Seeing my son sitting there not moving, I, Lorelei Howard, anxiously reminded him.
Violet Zimmerman waved her hand weakly and said, "It's fine, probably ate something bad at noon. I feel much better after throwing up."
Daxton Lancaster's phoenix-like eyes tightened slightly; he clearly didn't believe Violet Zimmerman's explanation.
New Year's Eve dinner, the whole family gathered, the table full of people all cheerful and excited, with only two looking perfunctory.
One was Joseph Lancaster, the other was Daxton Lancaster; both brothers had heavy thoughts weighing on them.
Violet didn't know what was wrong with her—dizzy and nauseous, no appetite. Because it was New Year's Eve dinner, it wouldn't be appropriate to leave early, so she could only grit her teeth and stay with everyone.
New Year always comes with drinking to celebrate. Daxton had quite a bit of baijiu, and by the time they finished dinner he was clearly drunk, even his walking was unsteady.
