Viola Thompson nodded, "Yeah, I don't like it."
Even if she hated wasting food again, she couldn't eat the osmanthus.
Osmanthus was a flavor she really disliked.
If she forced herself to eat it, she would vomit it right back out.
Mrs. Thompson looked at Viola, her face still calm, but her heartbeat quickened, "Viola, do your parents like eating osmanthus?"
If Viola's parents also disliked osmanthus, it could only mean that Viola's family had the same genetic trait as the Thompson Clan.
After all, they both had the surname Thompson.
"I don't know." Viola shook her head slightly.
Don't know?
Mrs. Thompson immediately asked, "Have they eaten any osmanthus-related food?"
"I don't know." Viola still shook her head, then explained, "I was adopted by my foster parents from the welfare institution. Later, some things happened, and my grandmother took me to the countryside, where I lived for eighteen years."
Orphan.
Hearing these words, Mrs. Thompson's heart tightened again.
