In love with my mafia uncle
Victoria felt her throat tighten.
She reached out gently, brushing a strand of hair from the girl’s face. “They’re sleeping, sweetheart,” she said softly, fighting the lump rising in her chest. “So don’t wake them for now. They need rest. But one day, they’ll watch you from above, and they’ll smile again.”
Katrina blinked up at her with confusion and innocence, then slowly nodded. Her little hand trembled, still clutching the doll.
Victoria took one of the chocolates from the basket and unwrapped it. “Here,” she said, offering it gently. “For your Barbie’s new friend — and for you.”
Bab Populer