?Chapter 383:


    “It’s okay,” she replied softly, her voice a balm of understanding. “If my dad had introduced someone new to our family when I was younger, I wouldn’t have been able to handle it either. I understand.”


    Hugh’s guilt gnawed at him more and more as Cheryl kept being so considerate.


    There was no way he could disregard Freya’s opinion and marry Cheryl. If he did, his rtionship with Freya might never recover. All he could do was wait and see how it yed out.


    After stepping out of the private room, Freya made her way straight toward the restaurant’s exit.


    Ethel dashed after her in an instant, her eyes glinting with that usual sparkle. “Hold up! Why are you speeding off like that? I can barely keep up!” Catching up to her, Ethel blurted out the words in one go. Freya threw a nce over her shoulder, not spotting Hugh or Cheryl, and asked, “Why did youe out?”


    “Because I’m your trusty sidekick,” Ethel replied with a mischievous grin, her hair done up in two braids with wispy bangs that made her look adorably cheeky.


    Freya reached out and gave Ethel’s hair a gentle tousle.


    The two of them strolled out of the restaurant side by side.


    Instead of heading straight home, they wandered into a nearby shopping mall.


    At first, Ethel chatted away about silly little things, but before long, she circled back to what really mattered. “Oh right, Freya—what did you mean back there in the private room? Did you figure something out?” Hugh wouldn’t be the right one to ask something like this, and even if he did, Freya probably wouldn’t answer. But Ethel? She was perfect for it. She was Freya’s closest confidante, after all.


    “Has Cheryl always dressed the way she did today?” Freya asked as they walked, her eyes casually scanning the disys.


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    “Not really. She only started dressing like that about a year ago,” Ethel said after thinking for a moment. Then she tilted her head. “Why? Is something wrong?”


    Freya hesitated while picking out a scarf for Ethel. “Don’t you think her style reminds you of someone?”


    “Reminds me of someone?” Ethel repeated, rubbing her chin and mentally flipping through everyone she knew.


    And then, she froze.


    Her eyes grew wide, and slowly, she lifted her gaze. “You mean… Mom?”


    “Yeah.” Freya nodded, keeping the conversation going. “Her clothes, her jewelry, even her…”


    “Makeup—it’s all eerily simr to Mom’s.”


    “Now that you mention it, I do remember something,” Ethel murmured, her brows drawing together.


    Freya turned toward her, attentive. “What is it?”


    “The first time I met her, the way she spoke to me—it was just like how Mom used to. Her tone, her mannerisms, everything,” Ethel said, her unease deepening with each word. “At the time, I was upset that Dad had brought someone home so quickly, but Cheryl was always so kind to me, I didn’t feel like I couldin.”


    Thinking back now, she realized that maybe Cheryl had been putting on a show from the start—trying to lower her guard.


    Ethel suddenly felt naive. “Do you think she’s been mimicking Mom on purpose just to win over Dad?”


    “I don’t know,” Freya admitted with a shake of her head.


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