"Uncle Saxon and my mom were probably quite close?" Scarlett Yates' eyes flashed with a different color, testing quietly, "Just now I heard Uncle Saxon call my mom by her childhood nickname, which isn't something most people would know."
Roy Saxon's expression moved slightly, the sorrow in his eyes deepened, and his mournful gaze lingered on the tombstone for a long time before he responded in a hoarse voice, "Yes, I and your mom... we later became very good friends, which is why we agreed to arrange a childhood engagement."
"In Uncle Saxon's eyes, what kind of person was my mom?" If it weren't for seeing those pieces of evidence, if she hadn't known the truth of the matter, she might have been moved by the genuine feelings Roy Saxon was showing now.
Such a powerful figure, yet still able to remember her ordinary and plain mom many years later, still able to grieve for her.
But since she knew the truth, seeing Roy Saxon in such sorrowful grief, she felt nothing but irony.
