Sylvia moved around the room with brisk, efficient steps, folding clothes and arranging boxes like she had done this a hundred times before. There was excitement in her eyes, but not a trace of hesitation in her posture. She picked up a small shirt, inspected it, then placed it neatly into the suitcase with a satisfied nod.
"Can you believe your brother was married for six years and we didn't know?" she said, not in disbelief, but with a hint of amused annoyance, like she had already decided she would deal with him later.
Katerina stood beside her, quietly assisting, carefully wrapping gifts and placing them in order. She didn't interrupt, only responding when needed.
On the sofa, Vincent lounged lazily, one leg stretched over the armrest as he watched his mother bustle around. A chuckle slipped out of him.
"Only you would accept that story without tearing it apart," he said, shaking his head. "A secret marriage, a four-year-old kid, and suddenly everything makes sense?"
