INICIAR SESIÓNSmith picked me up at noon on Saturday. The drive to the bridal boutique felt surreal. Six months ago, I couldn't imagine standing in front of a mirror trying on wedding dresses. Now, with Smith's hand resting on my knee as he drove, it felt like the most natural thing in the world."Nervous?" he asked."A little.""About the dress or the wedding?"I took a long, steady look at him. The strong line of his jaw. The way his eyes softened when he glanced at me. "Neither. I'm just realizing how different this feels.""Different how?""The kind that feels like starting over." I squeezed his hand. "Real different."The boutique was tucked between a flower shop and a café. Large windows displayed elegant mannequins in white gowns. A small sign read "Bella's Bridal" in delicate gold letters.Inside, soft music played. The scent of vanilla filled the air. Racks of dresses lined the walls. Each one more beautiful than the last.A woman approached us. She was older. Maybe sixty. Her silver hair
The next morning, I was at my desk when Alice buzzed through the intercom."Ms. Jones, there's a Katherina Carter here to see you. She says it's important."My pen froze mid-signature. Katherina Carter. Allen's mother."Should I tell her you're in a meeting?" Alice asked.I stared at the stack of contracts in front of me. The easy answer was yes. But something in Alice's tone suggested this woman wasn't leaving without trying."Send her in."I stood as the door opened. Katherina looked smaller than last time. Her designer suit hung loose on her frame. Gray streaked through hair that used to be perfectly colored. Her eyes were the same shade as Allen's. But where his held manipulation, hers held only exhaustion."Thank you for seeing me," she said. Her voice trembled."Mrs. Carter." I gestured to the chair across from my desk. "Please sit."She lowered herself carefully. Like someone afraid of breaking. Her hands clutched a worn leather purse. The kind that had seen years of use."I kn
The Jones mansion felt different when Smith dropped me off.Maybe it was the way the afternoon light hit the windows. Or how quiet everything seemed after the chaos of the press conference. My mother waited in the foyer. She watched through the glass as Smith's car disappeared down the drive."You handled that beautifully today," she said. She pulled me into a hug that lasted longer than usual. "Come. I made tea."We settled in the sunroom. It was her favorite place in the house. Plants filled every corner. Their leaves glowed in the fading light. She poured Earl Grey into delicate china cups she only brought out for important conversations."You know," she said quietly, "you remind me of someone."I sipped my tea. I was grateful for its warmth. "Who?"Margaret stared at her cup for a long moment. The grandfather clock ticked steadily in the hall."Your Aunt Julia once had a business partner. Martin Owen."I blinked. "Julia? You never talk about her.""No," she said softly. "I don't."
Smith's arm rested around my waist when my phone rang. Morning light slipped through the curtains. I didn't want to move. These quiet moments before the day began had become my favorite part of life."Let it go to voicemail," Smith murmured against my neck.The phone kept ringing. I reached for it anyway. Rachel's name flashed on the screen."It's Rachel. She wouldn't call this early unless something's wrong.""Answer it," Smith said.I pressed accept. "Rachel?""Turn on channel nine. Now."Her voice was tight. I sat up as Smith reached for the remote on his nightstand."What's happening?""Just watch."The screen lit up with a morning news anchor sitting straight and serious. The headline scrolling at the bottom made my stomach twist.RENEWED HEARTS FOUNDATION UNDER FIRE: FRAUDULENT CLAIMS SURFACE"We're following breaking news this morning," the anchor said. "Sources claim multiple women have filed false cases through the Renewed Hearts Foundation, seeking money rather than justice.
Morning sunlight filled the Renewed Hearts Foundation office. I sat at my desk and reached for my coffee. The engagement ring on my finger caught the light. Two days had passed since Smith proposed. I was still getting used to wearing it."Emelda, we have a problem." Rachel stood in my doorway with a thick folder in her hands. I still couldn't get used to how different she looked now. No more designer clothes or perfect makeup. She wore a simple navy blazer. Her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail."What is it?"She stepped inside and closed the door. "The Melissa Nolan case. Something doesn't add up."I leaned back in my chair. "The startup founder? The one whose partner took everything and left when she told him she was pregnant?""That's what she's telling everyone." Rachel sat down and spread papers across my desk. "Look at these financial records."I looked at the documents. Bank statements. Business registrations. Email threads. Rachel had marked things in yellow highlighte
The day passed in a blur of emails and meetings. Exhaustion settled deep in my bones. By the time the clock struck five, my inbox was finally quiet. That's when Smith showed up to pick me up.The drive back to the Jones estate was peaceful. The sun dipped low, casting golden light across the road. Smith kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the console between us. Neither of us said much. We didn't have to. The silence wasn't awkward. It was calm, familiar, like a language we'd learned to speak without words.When the gates of the estate opened, the familiar sight of home filled my chest with quiet warmth. The ivy climbing the stone walls. The tall oaks whispering in the evening wind. The house stood as it always did. Steady, peaceful, untouched by the chaos of the world outside.Mrs. Howell met us at the door, wiping her hands on her apron. "Welcome back, dear," she said with that kind smile that always made me feel twelve again. "Your mother's out visiting Helen







