Quincy turned back to Lydia, his expression softening. "I have something to take care of tonight. If you need anything, just call me, alright? I'll be back as soon as I can." Lydia's lips moved, as if she wanted to ask where he was going, but in the end, she didn't say a word.

Quincy left the hospital and headed straight to a four-star hotel. Mrs. Perez had reserved a private dining room there earlier, and Quincy was the last to arrive.

As he stood outside the door, he could hear the laughter and lively conversation from within. He clenched his fists, his eyes darkening as he recalled what Nash had told him the other day.

"Your housekeeper, Mrs. Lucy, took leave recently, right?" Nash had asked. "Before she left, I had a word with her. If you spoke to her too, you should know who was around the day Lydia fell ill."

That conversation had sent a chill down Quincy's spine, sparking a suspicion he didn't want to believe. Deep down, he had probably suspected this person all along, but he had refused to entertain the thought.

But now, here he was, standing in front of the door, forced to confront the truth.

With a loud thud, Quincy pushed the door open.

praising endlessly, Tiffany. Next to Tiffany was an older woman,

Mrs. Lydia had, I heard it was some kind of special herbal tea

Tiffany and her mother, making them both

to her mother, clearly uneasy under his

Quincy's mother, unsure. "Is this your son?" she asked

a bright smile. "Comez over and meet Aunt Clara. We've been friends since middle school and we went all

"And this

music abroad and she's top of her class in the arts. She's been touring with an orchestra. Isn't that impressive?" Mrs. Perez continued to

Perez, you're too kind. It's really not that big of a deal," she said modestly, though her gaze kept flicking

had frightened her. He looked more like he was here to settle a score than have

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