Heather’s face darkened at those words. She nced at Edith in disbeliefb, /bas if trying bto /bgauge just how much Edith really knew about Beckett and Bet.

Edith stood across from Heather, her expression all innocence, meeting Heather’s gaze without flinching.

Jayne, meanwhile, had been holding her breath. Heather wasn’t someone you could bcross /bwithout consequence; after being embarrassed like this, she’d usually raise hell and make sure everyone regretted it.

But, unexpectedly, Heather awkwardly shut her mouth. She linked arms with Salome and, with a show of fake magnanimity–though her eyes darted nervously–she said, “Let’s just drop it, Salome. We don’t need to stoop to their level. Your baby is what matters now. Don’t let this nonsense upset you.”

Salome had been ready to explode, nning to ride Heather’s anger and put Edith in her ce. She never imagined her mother–inw, usually so domineering, would back down so easily today.

Salome stared at Heather, trying to figure out–was Heather truly concerned about her unborn child, or was there something else going on?

Before she could think it through, Heather tugged her away, and the two of them slunk off, defeated.

Jayne was left standing there, stunned, watching their retreating backs. She muttered under her breath, “That’s not like her at all. She acts like a different person today.”

Edith, on the other hand, looked utterly unfazed. She picked out a pair of earrings from the jewelry counter, choosing something simple and inexpensive.

She replied to Jayne’sment with a casual tease, “Oh? And what kind of did she turn into?”

person

Honestly, the Vance family did have a knack for pulling off the impossible.

Jayne kept watching as the entire Vance entourage filed out of the mall. Only then did her voice return to its normal volume. “It’s just strange. She usually tears the ce apart when she’s offended, but today she turned tail and ran like a coward.”

Edith couldn’t help but smile at Jayne’s bafflement.

A coward. The word fit perfectly.

15.00

Chapter b25 /b

How could she not be? Right now, Heather’s only real concern was her precious grandson. If Salome ever found out that the child growing inside her wasn’t her husband’s but his brother’s… Well, who knows what might happen.

When they got to the registerb, /bJayne nced at the small trinkets Edith had chosen, her heart aching a little. “Edith, you’re only picking these dainty, girlish pieces. These won’t do–pick something grander.”

Edith looked at the earrings in her hand. “Mom, I like these. They make me feel young!”

Jayne understood what Edith was really thinking–she just wanted to save a little money for the Sumner family. Her daughter had always been sensible, ever since she was little. She was hardworking, gentle, never caused any trouble.

But the more considerate Edith was, the more it tugged at Jayne’s heartstrings.

Jayne blinked back tears and squeezed Edith’s hand. “Oh, sweetheart, how could you not be young? You’re as fresh as spring.”

Edith nced at her reflection in the mirror–slender, graceful, bright–eyed. After three years of married life with the Vances, she’d gotten used to ying the good wife. But now, seeing herself smile, she realized she still looked every bit as vibrant as a girl.

Every gesture, every nce, shimmered with youthful energy.

The sales associate, growing impatient, fixed them with a frosty stare. “You two have been at this forever–don’t tell me you can’t even afford a pair of earrings?”

Jayne, always kind even in the face of rudeness, just smiled. “Of course we can! My daughter just wants to look a little longer.”

But Edith waved her off. “No, Mom, these are perfect. There’s no need to spend

more.”

The sales associate’s expression soured even further. “Customers like you, I’ve seen plenty. If you’re buying, hurry up and pay. If not, we don’t have time to wait on you all day.”

Then, turning to her coworker, she muttered loudly enough for them to hear, “What’s the point in pretending to shop around? If you can’t afford it, just say so. Can’t even buy a pair of earrings, but still making excuses–ridiculous.”

212