"Dad." Turstin Muller called out, and he saw a woman standing not far behind his father, quite young, around thirty or so. He had seen her last night, but his father hadn't introduced her.
Turstin Muller felt a dull pain in his heart. His mother waited for years without getting a name, and now his father's side had a new love.
He didn't want to dwell on these painful matters, but seeing that woman, he couldn't help but think of them, feeling wronged for his mother. The smile on his face faded a bit, even the curve of his mouth felt forced.
"Uncle."
Valentine Teller also saw that woman but didn't take it to heart.
Today, the elderly gentleman looked much better.
She thought to herself, perhaps his condition might improve.
"You visiting already makes me happy enough, no need to buy things." His face was stern as he seriously looked at the gift box Turstin Muller was holding—it was too formal, too distant, which displeased him.
