her voice. "He insisted on taking us home," Diana replied quietly, a hint of uncertainty in her tone. Emma blinked in disbelief, overwhelmed. "Wow... he is just so handsome," she gawked, admir

e while her younger siblings had already gone to bed. "Good evening, Mom," she greeted softly. "Welcome back, Emma. How was work today?" her mother asked, her voice tinged with emotion. "Work is fine, Mum," Emma replied, but her mind was replaying the moment when Kane had opened the door for Diana and completely ignored her. She rolled her eyes but then noticed her mum staring longingly at her late father's portrait. "Mom, don't tell me you've been crying again. It's been two years since we lost Dad. You're still mourning... You haven't been to the shop, and you hardly do anything." "Don't you want Dad to rest peacefully?" her mother asked, her voice trembling. "I'm sorry, Emma," her mother sniffed. "But I miss him. Ever since he left, I feel incomplete. He took a part of me with him." Emma walked over and enveloped her mother in a warm embrace, feeling the weight of their shared grief. "Mum, you have to pull yourself together. Be strong, if not for anyone else, then for us, your children. Please, if you don't stop crying, you'll make me cry too." "Okay, fine... I won't cry anymore," her mother said, dabbing her eyes with the edge of her blouse. "Now that's my mum," Emma teased gently, trying to lighten the mood. Afterward, Emma made her way into the kitchen, pouring herself some milk and grabbing bread. Once she finished eating, she quietly headed upstairs. Sh