Chapter 149 A Dress To Match

• Agnes
• The scent of garlic and tomatoes greeted us as we stepped inside the house later that evening. Elijah was already at the stove, stirring a pot of what smelled like spaghetti sauce with the white sleeves of his button-down rolled up to his elbows, exposing his muscular forearms. He looked up as we entered and smiled.
• “There are my girls,” he said warmly, and I felt my stomach turn to molten lava at the tender phrase. “How was your day?”