Chapter 67:

Lonnie and Skyla exchanged a look of concern and disapproval. They understood the harsh realities of the world and worried about how their daughter would manage on her own.

Additionally, they were aware that Harlee hadn’t been to college. In a world filled with college graduates, how could she depend solely on herself? But it was their daughter’s choice, and they couldn’t contest it.

“They will stand by you whenever you need them.”

“Alright, Harlee. We respect your choice.

Both your father and I support you,” Skyla said firmly.

“I support you too, Harlee,” Fletcher chimed in, leaning back with a sly smile.

Lonnie gave Fletcher a stern look, raising his hand as if to scold him.

“Keep your distance from Harlee.

Don’t steer her in the wrong direction!”

Meanwhile, Brenton watched the exchange with a detached air.

He respected Harlee’s decision but questioned her practical abilities.

“If things don’t pan out, you can always return to my side,” he remarked, gracefully taking a sip of his tea.

“Understood,” Harlee responded, choosing not to elaborate further.

Brenton observed Harlee’s flat tone, feeling somewhat unsettled. She seemed reluctant to address him in a way a little sister might address her older brother.

At a smaller table nearby, designated for servants, Etta sat with her mother. She watched the peaceful scene unfold, her eyes filled with anger. She hadn’t touched the food on her plate, clutching her fork so tightly that it was nearly bent.

“Here, try the fish I made today,” Callie suggested, placing a piece on Etta’s plate.

Etta’s irritation shifted toward her mother.

“Who do you think you are, serving me food? Are you trying to disgust me?”

Callie, a humble woman, was at a loss for words and simply pulled back her hand, sadly picking at her own meal.

“Just look at you.

How can you even compare to Mrs. Sanderson?” Etta said.

Callie raised her head slowly, her expression one of defeat.

“Etta, please stop dreaming. You are my daughter. I am just a servant. It’s useless to desire more.”

Her mother’s resignation struck a nerve in Etta stood up abruptly, her face contorted with fury.

Her breath was heavy, and her eyes wild.

“Don’t call me that! I am Mrs. Sanderson’s daughter, from one of the richest families in this nation!”

Callie exhaled deeply, her head shaking in quiet surrender.

After dinner, Skyla affectionately took Harlee by the arm and glanced at Fletcher, who was sipping water. She posed a question.

“Where are your other three older brothers? When are they coming back?”

Instantly, Fletcher choked on his water, caught off guard, and chuckled.

“Mom, do you really want them all back? Just dealing with me and Brenton is enough to give you a headache. You want all of us back? Aren’t you worried about some potential chaos in the city?”

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