Three years ago, a fire broke out in the middle of the night and destroyed Millbrook’s family-run flower shop, which had been open for a decade. Two people died in the blaze.
One was the shop’s owner, Mrs. Winters, a woman in her fifties who had moved to Millbrook specifically for a peaceful retirement.
The other was her adopted daughter, a young woman who had just given birth not long before.
The fire spread fast, igniting in the dead of night. By the time anyone noticed, it was too late to save them.
In the end, it was the neighbors—close friends—who made the funeral arrangements for the unfortunate mother and daughter.
…
Aurora jolted awake from another nightmare, her body slick with sweat.
She sat for a while in a daze, then splashed her face with cold water until her mind finally began to clear.
Standing at the sink, she forced herself to push aside the tangled mess of memories and fears swirling in her head. Only then did she leave the bathroom.
Louis was by the bed, checking on their son.
“Did Daniel agree?” he asked, his expression troubled.
The doctor had called to tell him what had happened, and Louis had come rushing back at once.
Aurora nodded.
Louis’s emotions were mixed. Aurora wasn’t Payne’s biological mother—she didn’t have to go through all this.
“Aurora, did you promise him something else?”
She lowered her eyes, her voice barely above a whisper. “Only that I’d stay with him. That’s all.”
Louis felt a pang of sorrow. Aurora had fought so hard to break free from Daniel, and now she was forced back into his orbit.
He couldn’t help but ask, “Do you still love him?”
Love?
Aurora repeated the word silently in her mind.
She let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh.
“It doesn’t matter anymore.”
Feelings didn’t stand a chance against reality.
Not wanting to discuss it further, Aurora changed the subject. “Are you free? I’d like to take you to see Grandma.”

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