The greenery outside the car window receded in sheets, painting a trace of joy upon one's face.
Ivy Grant's eyes sparkled, her heart's exuberance dancing at her fingertips. The window was rolled down, so it took a bit of effort for Ivy to rest her hand upon it.
Thomas Yates, engrossed in driving, failed to notice Ivy's subtle gesture.
In the rearview mirror, Aria Grant was still heads down picking through the food, but George Flack happened to catch a glimpse.
His indifferent eyes flicked over the scene, then quickly moved elsewhere.
Even his breathing was controlled so, the impatient sigh ultimately only caused a brief heave in his chest.
"Let's celebrate together," Ivy stood up, juice in hand. Her form was incapable of toasting elegantly, but even with the struggle, her face showed no sign of backing down.
Thomas Yates pursed his lips tightly. He knew he shouldn't have come—he hadn't expected Ivy Grant to be the one to mess up this meal!
