Chapter 479: Thin Wisps of Smoke Curled Up from the Chimney

Thin wisps of smoke curled up from the chimney of the Clark family's courtyard in the village.

Helen Reed busily stuffed items into a woven bag. "We must bring this jar of pickled radishes. Emily always loved my homemade recipe. And this cured bacon—you won't find anything this authentic in the city."

"Do as you see fit," grumbled Martin Reed, squatting on the doorstep with his pipe. His furrowed brows could have crushed a fly. "Something doesn't sit right with me."

"You're just restless!" Helen shot him a look, her hands never pausing. "Haven't you missed our daughter? It's been two years."

The mention tightened both their hearts.

Their Emily had become like a wild horse since leaving for the city to start her business. Phone calls always boasted booming sales, and she never failed to send 500 dollars home each month—yet she stubbornly refused to visit.

Two days ago, she'd crossed a line: claiming her business kept her too busy to return even for the New Year.

"Our sons are stationed with the military, and now Emily won't come home either. What's the point of celebrating?" Helen's eyes reddened.

Martin knocked his pipe against his shoe sole. "That's exactly why we're going. Who knows what that girl's really up to in the city?"

The decision was made—they'd launch a surprise inspection.

"Do you think Emily might be seeing someone?" Helen suddenly whispered. "She's twenty already..."

"Hmph!" Martin's expression darkened further. "Last time I mentioned an arranged match on the phone, she hung up on me. That ungrateful—"

As the hens clucked in the yard, Helen wiped her hands. "Sell the pig tomorrow, and I'll take the poultry to town. We'll be gone at least two months—can't let them starve."

"Already handled." Martin stood, dusting his trousers. "Walter Brooks's coming for the pig at dawn."

The setting sun stretched their shadows long across the ground. Helen gazed toward the village entrance, murmuring, "I wonder what Emily looks like now..."

Martin remained silent, but his grip on the pipe tightened.