"It''s okay." Yvonne shook her head, knowing he hadn''t meant it.


    "What brings you to the Joneses'' house?" she asked.


    "I had a case to discuss with Mr. Jones," Bet replied.


    The military sometimes got involved in major cases, so Bet and Bruce''s work asionally ovepped. However, Yvonne knew better than to pry into such matters and tactfully dropped the subject.


    With a guest over, Monica had the housekeeper buy some extra groceries and personally cooked a few of her specialty dishes.


    Yvonne helped out in the kitchen. She wasn''t much of a cook, but she could handle washing and chopping vegetables.


    Meanwhile, Bruce and Bet were upstairs in the study, discussing official business.


    Only when Monica and Yvonne had finished cooking and set the table did they call the men down for dinner.


    Usually, it was just Bruce and Monica in the house, a quiet and lonely existence. The lively atmosphere was a rare treat, prompting Bruce to open a bottle of wine.


    After a few sses, his mind grew hazy. It was as if his daughter were still alive, sitting right across from him, their family of four whole and happy again.


    "Vonnie, Mr. Lee gave me some excellent tea a while back, but your mother wasted it all cooking with it. You and Bet should take the rest home to drink."


    Bruce waved a hand at Yvonne as he spoke.


    His words hung in the air, and the atmosphere instantly froze.


    Monica was the first to react, pping her husband''s arm forcefully. "Why do you start talking nonsense after just a little wine?"


    Bruce seemed to realize his mistake. He choked up and waved his hand dismissively.


    This veteran police officer, a man of iron will who hadn''t flinched when shot at by criminals, now slumped in his seat, his strong back bent.


    Sitting beside him, Bet silently refilled his ss. He nced up, as if casually, at Yvonne across the table.


    Yvonne kept her head down, revealing only the top of her hair, her expression hidden from view.


    After dinner, Bruce was quite drunk and went straight to his room to rest.


    Noticing howte it was, Bet and Yvonne said their goodbyes and left.


    Yvonne had driven there. As she stepped out of the Joneses'' gate, she bolted toward her car as if a ghost were chasing her.


    Just as she reached for the door handle, a deep, maic voice spoke from behind her.


    "I''ve been drinking, so I can''t drive. Would you mind giving me a ride back to my apartment, Ms. Jones?"


    Yvonne turned to face the man, about to politely decline, but Bet had already strode past her and opened the passenger door of gar.


    Yvonne was speechless.


    The


    She stood frozen, wanting to suggest he call a driver service or have his aide pick


    him up, which would be far more convenient.


    But before she could speak, Monica hurried over, carrying several bags of tea.


    "A friend of Bruce''s gave us this, and


    we can''t possibly drink it all ourselves. Yvonne, you and Bet should take it and share it. Monica said, then nced at Bet


    already seated in Yvonne''s


    passenger seat.


    "I was just worried about how Bet would get home after drinking. I''ll feel much


    better knowing you''re driving him."


    Yvonne epted the tea, noticing


    Monica''s thin clothes. "Monica, you


    should go back inside," she said with


    concern. It''s getting cofe out. We''lle visit you and Bruce again soon."


    With that, Yvonne quickly got into the car.


    She knew Monica would wait until they drove away before going back inside.