“Hey, Zebulon, what's going on over there? Why is Naomi walking with that illegitimate kid?”
Of course, this scene didn't escape the notice of Zebulon, Colin, and Jonathan.
Jonathan nudged Zebulon with his elbow, a look of confusion on his face.
Zebulon's eyes were glued to Naomi. He noticed more than Jonathan and the others did; not only was she walking with Lennon, but it looked like she had just been talking to him.
What could she possibly have to say to that illegitimate son!
More importantly, since he'd arrived, she hadn't looked at him once.
Zebulon's expression soured. Colin noticed, a playful glint in his eye. “What's wrong? Haven't made up with Naomi yet?”
“When were we ever 'good'?”
Zebulon retorted stubbornly, then strode towards the dining room.
Colin and Jonathan followed, and Colin, acting as if he hadn't heard him, said, “This doesn't add up. You and Naomi have never let a fight last overnight. Zebulon, don't tell me she's actually done with you this time!”
Ahead, Zebulon’s body visibly stiffened for a moment before he quickly composed himself and continued walking.
In the dining room, two large round tables were set up due to the number of guests: one for the adults and elders, and one for the younger generation, including Naomi.
It was the same every year.
Except, in previous years, Naomi would have sat next to Zebulon.
This year, since they were at the Hughes' home, Zebulon naturally took the head seat at the younger table. As he sat down and looked for Naomi, he saw her walk right past him, heading to the far end of the table, next to Lennon.
Lennon had just settled Ronald into a high chair beside him when a shadow fell over him. He looked up to meet the girl's slightly anxious eyes.
“Lennon, can I sit here?”

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