Chapter 10

• I nodded lightly. “Alright. I’ll head over to Mills house tomorrow.”
• The cake box in my hands felt heavier than it should have. Strawberry shortcake Grandma’s favorite. Every year, I used to personally bake it. This time, I bought it. Some things, when broken, cannot return to the shape they once had.
• The winter air nipped at my cheeks as I approached the Mills’ chalet. The villa stood as imposing as ever white stone walls, wrought iron railings, tall windows reflecting the pale sky. A home that once felt like warmth now loomed like a fortress.