Mrs. Moore said without holding back.


    Mr. Moore''s face darkened, and he instinctively nced at Bet beside him.


    Bet was holding a wine bottle, pouring for Mr. Moore and Bruce, his expression shifting slightly.


    "Bet, don''t listen to her nonsense. Ynda is a wonderful girl. Your parents are hoping you two will get married soon so they can have grandchildren."


    Mr. Moore said to Bet.


    Bet looked up at his uncle, his gaze calm, but he offered no reply.


    Mrs. Moore didn''t say anything else to spoil the mood. Instead, she took Yvonne''s arm and sat down at the dining table.


    "I didn''t know we''d have such a special guest today, so I just made some simple home-cooked food. I hope you''ll like it," Mrs. Moore said to Yvonne.


    "I''m allergic to seafood, but I''m not a picky eater otherwise," Yvonne replied with a smile. It had been a long time since she had tasted Mrs. Moore''s cooking, and she truly missed it.


    Mrs. Moore picked up her serving utensils and ced a piece of the braised ribs onto the te in front of Yvonne.


    "Thank you, Mrs. Moore." Yvonne took a small bite of the rib, eating with great focus.


    As Mrs. Moore watched Yvonne eat, her gaze grew increasingly gentle. Though the face waspletely unfamiliar, there was something about her that felt incredibly familiar.


    In a daze, she was suddenly reminded of the young girl who used to loveing over for meals. She had the same habit of taking small bites, eating so earnestly.


    Flora used to always tease, "Mom, look at Vonnie when she eats. Doesn''t she look like a little squirrel?"


    But now, the girl who ate like a little squirrel and the daughter who teased her were both gone.


    Mrs. Moore''s eyes reddened uncontrobly. She picked up her wine ss and drank steadily, trying to hide her spiraling emotions.


    The atmosphere at the table was neither good nor bad.


    Although only six people were dining, there were eight ce settings. The two extra sets, ced side by side, were for Flora and Yvonne.


    Mr. Moore held his utensils in one hand and draped his other arm over Bet''s shoulder, leaning in to speak to him.


    "Your father called me a couple of days ago. He said your wedding date with Ms. Walker has been set Bet, you need to build good life with Ynda and stop dwelling on the past. The dead are gone. Cherishing the person in front of you is what''s most important?"


    After Mr. Moore finished, the atmosphere at the table seemed to freeze.


    Bruce and Monica remained silent. Bet''s hand, holding his fork, paused for a moment before he continued serving food, cing some into Mr. Moore''s bowl.


    "Uncle, eat."


    Mr. Moore lowered his head and ate, saying no more. But Mrs. Moore, sitting beside him, suddenly mmed her utensils down.


    "That''s right, the dead are never as important as the living. All you men are the same. At Flora''s funeral Oscar swore up and down that he''d never remarry and now look at him engaged to another woman.


    And you, Bet, with all your dramatic fasting and talk of dying for love, I really thought you were so devoted. But now you''re marrying the eldest daughter of the Walker family for an alliance.


    That Ynda has had two major surgeries. Who knows how long she''ll even live, let alone if she can have children. When she was with Oscar the Rogers family looked down on her poor health and split them up if her father hadn''t climbed so high in office these past few years, she wouldn''t even be worthy of shining Mr. Thompson''s shoes!"


    Mrs. Moore had been drinking, and the alcohol was making her more and more agitated.


    "That''s enough! Shut your mouth!" Mr. Moore couldn''t take it anymore and snapped in anger.