Inside a small room, a small conversation took place between a man and a woman.
"I'm very sorry ma'am," the man said, his hands clutching his chef's hat.
In front of him, a trisolian woman was sitting on a chair, her eyes puffy and red. She looked at him with a devastated expression. "Are –hic- you s-sure –hic- you can't save him?"
The man shook his head shamefully. "N-No…It's far too late."
The woman got up. "I…I'll be leaving then."
Just as she was about to leave, the man quickly spoke.
"If it makes you feel better, they loved the soup."
The woman's eyes grew wide before she buried her face in her hands, started crying and left the room. The man sighed and sat down in the chair.
"How was I supposed to know the water in the bucket I used to make my soup was her husband?"