THE kitchen seemed to shrink the moment Hazel stepped in.She stood by the doorway, school bag still slung over one shoulder, eyes fixed on the sight in front of her— her mother and… and Charles standing close, sharing a space that suddenly felt too intimate, too settled. Her brows knit together, lips pressing into a thin line.Well, she shrugged. He was her fiancé.“Good evening,” she muttered under her breath, the greeting barely audible.Without waiting for a response, she walked straight to the refrigerator, pulled it open with more force than necessary, and grabbed a pack of juice. She fetched a glass from the cabinet, her movements sharp, clipped. The sound of the fridge door closing echoed louder than it should have.Amelia exhaled softly.Sensing the shift, she slid her right arm around Charles’s left arm, her fingers curling reassuringly against him. It was subtle and instinctive, an unspoken ‘I’m here’.She lifted her voice, light, warm.“Hey, Hazel,” she said. “I didn’t rea
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