Yvonne Morgan was trying to play the victim to make Vincent Morgan feel sorry for her.
The dim car fell silent. Vincent Morgan watched her, his gaze dark and conflicted, his lips pressed into a thin line. He didn't say a word for a long time.
Yvonne Morgan didn't receive the sympathetic, comforting words she'd been hoping for. She bit her lip, her heart filled with sorrow and resentment.
'Why isn't Vincent talking?'
'Does he really think that about me...?'
The more Yvonne Morgan thought about it, the more resentful she became. But even when the car came to a stop, Vincent Morgan still hadn't responded to her question.
She got out of the car, looking utterly crestfallen.
Vincent Morgan watched her walk away, and for a moment, she seemed like a stranger.
'Why would she say something like that? Calling herself an impostor?'
'His little sister... they'd been together for nearly twenty-four years. How did she end up like this?'
**
