Vivian jogged over to greet her father, a bright, carefree smile on her face. "Hey Dad! What are you doing here? Did Mom pack me something good again?"
Looking at his daughter's radiant smile and remembering how she used to be completely catatonic, Mr. Shelton felt a pang of emotion. He patted her hand dotingly and said, "Your mom figured you'd been working yourself ragged lately. She whipped up your favorites, matsutake chicken soup and the sweet and sour ribs."
The next day, a distinguished crowd gathered at the entrance of the art gallery.
Vivian wore a soft blush evening dress that her mother had personally chosen. Her long hair was loosely pinned back with an elegant pearl clip, making her look fresh, refined, and effortlessly graceful as she stood beside Uncle Anthony.
Any trace
