Her eyes narrowed, a flicker of calculation behind her gaze.

After the meal and some time at the Fernandezes’ house, the evening wound down, and everyone dispersed to their homes.

At their residence, Brea directed Elma to take Sheldon for his bath, transitioning the household to quieter evening routines.

“Lyndon, Rosalynn is still in the hospital, and Mrs.

Moreno arrived in Betton yesterday.

Join me tomorrow to visit them,” Brea mentioned casually.

“Of course, Mom,” Lyndon agreed without hesitation.

“Lyndon, come with me to the study,” Barnes summoned, wanting to discuss business matters.

Lyndon nodded and cast a concerned look at Tilda.

“Mom, please keep the conversation light.

Tilda should rest soon; she’s still recovering,” he reminded gently, protective instincts in full display.

Brea raised an eyebrow playfully.

“Oh, relax.

I’m your mother, not some tyrant.

won’t be harsh

chuckle, reassured, and made his

saw a servant approaching with tea

quickly took the cup and presented it

accepted the tea with a

for such formality,

far from the stereotypical

soft laugh, infused with warmth in her voice, “I felt a bond with you from our very

.

.

Library

personality was a breath of

Brea felt

her tea, looked

so for me, my daughter-in-law is

to you and Barnes as any daughter would be,” Tilda vowed earnestly, embracing her new family role with open

a graceful motion, her

between you and

still not over Rosanna

gaze downward, her

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