Evelyn pushed down her inner doubts and shook her head softly at her father. Before her parents arrived, she had already sent them a quick text to align their stories and get them to play along with her fake amnesia.
Genevieve pulled out a bowl of warm soup and a few other dishes from the thermal container. Before she could walk over to the bedside, Michael stepped forward and took it straight from her hands. "Mom, let me handle it." He then carried the tray over to Evelyn.
Alaric gently helped Evelyn sit up, propping her against the plush pillows. Michael sat on the edge of the mattress, carefully blowing on a spoonful of soup before feeding it to her.
Evelyn was genuinely bewildered inside: why did her mother not object in the slightest when he called her "Mom"?
However, with Michael sitting right there, she couldn't ask out loud and had no choice but to keep her questions bottled up inside.
