Ethan drummed his fingers on the table, trying to hide his concern while his mother, Amelia, watched him with an expression mixing impatience and disdain.
"I don't know why you insist on waiting for her, son," his mother said, her voice tinged with slight disapproval. "A person who arrives late to such an important meeting shows a lack of respect and responsibility."
Ethan sighed, trying to keep calm.
He loved his mother, but sometimes she could be extremely critical. He was trying to find the right words to defend Treit when, suddenly, he saw her approaching the restaurant.
"There she comes, mom," Ethan said, pointing towards the entrance.
His mother turned, following the direction of his finger, and her expression hardened when she saw Treit's condition. Her hair was disheveled and she had a visible wound on her arm. Ethan quickly stood up, his concern transforming into alarm.
"Treit, what happened to you?" Ethan asked, hurrying to her side.
