Emily looked up and said, “Then you’d better stop thinking about it.”
Emma let out a huff. “You know, a few years ago when I tried to set you up with Tristan Davis, you couldn’t have cared less. Now look at you, suddenly all possessive.”
Emily just shrugged. “So what? I’m with him now, and that’s what matters.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Well, knowing you’re together puts my mind at ease. All right, you get some sleep. I’m heading home.”
Emily hesitated for a moment, then called after her, “Wait.”
Emma paused at the door. “What is it?”
Emily looked at her steadily. “What were you really doing tonight?”
Emma’s face froze for a split second before she forced a casual smile and waved her hand. “I was just out shopping, nothing special. Don’t overthink it.”
Emily’s gaze was unwavering. “But I saw you following Isabella Austin’s parents around.”
This time, Emma’s expression stayed stiff a little too long—her guilt written plain as day.
Emily pressed on. “Mom, when did you even meet Isabella Austin’s parents? Why were you looking for them?”
Emma’s voice shot up defensively. “What are you talking about, Isabella Austin’s parents? I don’t even know them! I have no idea what you’re saying. I wasn’t following anyone—I was just out shopping, that’s all. Don’t make up stories.”
Emma couldn’t see her own face, maybe didn’t realize how transparent her guilt really was.
She never was very good at hiding what she felt; every thought showed on her face.


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