Nia Mitchell tensed up immediately, her face turning pale. She froze in place.
Even the typically blunt Fiona Sutton noticed her unease.
"Nia, what's wrong?"
Nia Mitchell regained her composure, her pale lips attempting a weak smile.
"Nothing."
She cast her gaze downwards, the hand holding her silverware trembling, struggling to pick up the food on her plate.
Had she heard wrong?
Uncle Peary had just said over the phone to his mother that, if she didn't approve of her, he would get a divorce.
Thinking of Phoebe Harris, whom she had met that afternoon, Nia Mitchell's face turned paler, and her usually rosy lips lost their color.
Nia Mitchell had initially considered tentatively telling Fiona Sutton that she had married a stranger.
Now, it seemed, there was no longer any need.
"Fiona, let's go and have hotpot."
Nia Mitchell suddenly lifted her head. Fiona Sutton was taken aback for a moment, then after a noticeable pause, she nodded.
