The morning sun washed over the bustling streets of downtown Ashford Bay, casting long, golden shadows across the pavement. Abigail stood on the sidewalk, holding a warm cup of coffee in her hands. The cool coastal breeze tugged at her hair, but she didn't mind. She looked up at the painted wooden sign hanging above the large, gleaming glass windows. Hope's Garden.A delivery truck idled loudly at the curb. Two workers carried tall, bright floral arrangements through the front doors, the smell of damp earth, crushed leaves, and fresh roses spilling out onto the street. Abigail directed them, her voice calm and gentle. She pointed to the display corners and told them exactly where to place the white orchids, the sunflowers, and the rare lilies. She was now a mother, a survivor, and the proud owner of her own thriving dream business.Grey stepped out of a black car parked across the street. His silver-streaked hair caught the morning light. His wound that nearly killed him a year ag
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