So that's how it is.

Her thick lashes shadowed her eyes, and she said coldly, "I don't like it."

In the end, Reese just ordered a chicken pot pie.

Yves had to remind the waitress three times before their food came out first.

Reese served a bowl to everyone-everyone except Sylvia.

She took a bite, leaned closer to Rupert, and whispered, "Not as good as the one you make."

"Yeah," Rupert replied in his usual, nonchalant tone.

Sylvia stayed quiet, but across the table, Mrs. Hanson was starting to look annoyed.

"Sylvia, you really need to eat more meat. How else are you going to have healthy kids someday?"

"Here, here, let me get you a nice juicy piece. Don't say the Hansons don't treat you well."

Sylvia frowned. "No, thank you.”

But Mrs. Hanson wasn't listening. She slapped a big, greasy hunk of roast pork right into Sylvia's bowl.

Yves shot her a sideways glance. "Just do what my mom says."

Sylvia pressed her lips together, noticing everyone else's reactions-some smug, some indifferent, some quietly amused.


it over her with

her

if silently asking Sylvia, "So, what do

the fatty

stood up. "Excuse me, I need

a response, she turned

took a deep breath and

up, she wasn't alone in

followed her in, closing the distance with

paper towel,

you told me. When are you going to delete what you have on

up and down. "Oh, I'll delete it... the day you

show will disappear for good."


hard her eyes burned with tears. "Why does

clearly enjoying Sylvia's silent

want to

know?"

and Mr. Rupert. Their

down, her gaze lingering

picked out for them. And

why

so easy to

pot pie and you're happy as a

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