I glanced at Charlie and his mother. They looked smug. But they had no idea. I didn't care. I called two cars and arranged for Charlie's seven or eight relatives to go to the hotel.

Lucy was waiting for me downstairs.

"Honey, Charlie and his mother are going to pay their respects to Mother and are getting changed. Let's wait a while."

I refused without hesitation, "No, mom doesn't like being disturbed."

"But I already promised them. If you don't let them go, I'm breaking my promise. You have to consider me," Lucy accused me.

"Besides, they came all the way here and it's a gesture of kindness. How can I not let them see Mother?"

I didn't need such a gesture. Just as I was about to firmly refuse, Charlie and his mother walked out of the hotel. Charlie was wearing a black suit, while his mother was wearing a bright red, festive funeral shroud. My face immediately darkened. Wearing a festive red dress on funeral—was it to pay respects to my mother, or was it to show off to her?

Charlie's mother, completely unaware of her outfit, smiled and waved at Lucy, "Lucy, look, how does this dress look on me?"

Lucy smiled and said, "This dress suits you perfectly. It makes you look younger."

I stared at Lucy in disbelief. She actually said it suited her.

Lucy didn't even glance at me. With a docile expression, she helped Charlie's mother into the car.

When I didn't move, she came over and said, "Don't be angry. Godmother just celebrated her 80th birthday. It totally fine for her to wear a bright red funeral attire."

I looked at her calmly for a moment, then smiled, "You're right. It's just a dress!"

Lucy frowned. I didn't give her a chance to continue and took the driver's seat. I should have thought of this earlier. How could the dead matter be less important the living?

I shouldn't have held out any hope for Lucy. Lucy tried to talk to me several times in the back of the car. I ruthlessly interrupted her each time, "Don't talk to me during rush hour. It distracts me."

I saw Lucy purse her lips in the rearview mirror.

Charlie's mother was upset, "Lucy, what's wrong with your husband? He keeps interrupting you. Godmother doesn't like him."

I laughed. What was our relationship anyway? Did I need her affection?

Lucy said, "Godmother, he's just the way he is. Don't mind it."