Edwin was a mix of remorse and resentment.

Mark entered, approached Edwin with measured steps, and planted himself before the boy.

Edwin lifted his gaze to meet Mark's.

With a voice rough with emotion, Mark asked, "Why'd you lash out like that?"

Edwin's lips tightened.

"You expect me to say sorry to her?"

Mark reeled.

His heart twisted... Sure, Edwin was in the wrong, but wasn't Mark the real cause?

For a beat, Mark was stumped.

He yearned to guide Edwin right, but guilt shackled his words.

Peter, knowing Mark well, sidled up and murmured, "Sort it out at home. Take Edwin back first. He probably hasn't eaten. He's just a kid... Go easy on him."

Frustration simmering, Mark whisked Edwin away.

Peter chose to stay with Laura.

She clammed up, sitting there, a portrait of indignation, even after the rough treatment.

Peter fretted over her state.

In gentle tones, he offered, "I'll get you a new one, even prettier than before."

Laura stayed mute.

Her fists balled up, concealing a scrap of paper in her grasp.

It was a sketch of a red wedding gown.

She'd heard tales of how stunning Cecilia looked in red on what should have been she and Mark's wedding day.