A Voice from New York

Meanwhile, at the Alliance manor.

Gavin sat at the dining table, picked up a freshly roasted beef rib, and stuffed the already-fall-off-the-bone meat into his mouth in one bite.

After living in America for so long, Gavin had to admit that white people's food was generally pretty awful.

But there was one thing he had to give them credit for: barbecue, especially Texas barbecue.

Texans were the real authorities on that!

Take the piece of beef in his hand, for example. The chefs had made it tender, fragrant, and succulent. The whole cut had not been loaded with seasonings, yet it had been grilled to perfection, fully bringing out the beef's own aroma. Maybe because they knew Gavin disliked most desserts and only liked beef.

Doris's beef stew had really been getting better and better!

Of course, it was also possible that there were more cooks in the camp now, and Doris had picked up a few tricks from the other chefs.

In any case, Gavin enjoyed this meal as much as ever.

But just as he was about to finish the last few pieces of meat, the figure approaching from behind him abruptly ruined his appetite. It was Liana. From yesterday through today, the woman anxiously waiting for news of her husband had been unable to stop herself from coming to ask about the radio after every meal. If Gavin knew nothing, that would have been fine. He would not have had to worry about anything and could have continued fobbing Liana off with a clear conscience. But now...

Gavin really did have some news related to Johnny and Anglu, and it was news he could not tell Liana.

That left Gavin with little appetite.

So Gavin hurriedly ate the last few pieces of meat, stood up, and rubbed