Holly Winslow, of course, noticed. Her expression instantly turned cold as she stared at Yvonne Lewis, wanting to ask her if she even had a heart.
Wyatt Winslow had done so much for her, yet here Yvonne was, criticizing him.
She was the last person who had any right to criticize Wyatt Winslow. He had been a good father, while she had failed to be a good mother—at least, not to Holly.
In Holly's eyes, she had never been a proper mother.
"If Dad hadn't told me to come, I wouldn't have come to see you."
"From now on, whether it's about me or the Lewis Family, don't call anymore. I don't want to answer, and Dad wants to answer even less."
The atmosphere instantly grew frigid. Mortimer Quincy looked at the young woman's blank expression, a flicker of pain in his eyes. He reached out and took her hand.
