Emma Evans nodded at her son's suggestion, knowing this was their only chance.
"Alright, let me help. I want to prepare food for my daughter too… this is something I should have been doing for her a long time ago," she said, her voice choked with emotion.
Her husband, Edward Evans, stood beside her, looking equally forlorn. Though he didn't say a word, he didn't object either. Instead, he silently walked with them, carrying the boxes of seafood into the kitchen alongside Eric and Ethan.
Without another word, they all worked together, each lost in their own thoughts. Emma washed the seafood with careful hands, Edward and Ethan carried the remaining boxes, and Eric focused on preparing the other ingredients.
Meanwhile, Eliot busied himself with cooking, carefully preparing every dish he was good at—each plate a silent offering, a hope for reconciliation.
