Months later...Miles found himself watching Eleanor more often than he should. He noticed the way she laughed at the twins' antics, the way she moved through the garden, the way her eyes lit up when she saw him.One evening, he found her in the library, staring out the window. He approached her, his voice soft."Are you alright?"Eleanor turned, her eyes glistening. "I was thinking about my husband. About how much I miss him." She paused. "And about how I'm starting to feel again. It scares me."Miles stepped closer, his heart pounding. "It scares me too."Eleanor looked up at him, her eyes searching his. "Miles, I—"He reached out and took her hand. "I know, Eleanor. I feel it too."She didn't pull away. Instead, she stepped into his arms, her head resting against his chest."I don't want to be alone anymore," she whispered.Miles held her close, his voice thick with emotion. "You won't be. I promise."***The garden was bathed in golden sunlight, the roses in full bloom, their frag

The drive back to the Hart estate was a blur.Celestine's mind raced, her mother's words echoing in her ears. Miles is your grandfather. He has been watching over you your entire life.She had always known there was something special about Miles—the way he looked at her, the quiet kindness in his eyes, the sense of safety she felt whenever he was near. But she had never imagined this. She had never imagined that the old man who had always been there was actually her blood.She parked the car and walked through the estate, her footsteps echoing in the silence. The house was quiet, the family scattered throughout their rooms. She knew where Miles would be.She found him in his room, standing before the canvas of Maria. His back was to her, his shoulders slumped, his hand resting on the portrait."Miles," she said softly.He turned, his face pale, his eyes filled with a deep, ancient sorrow. "Celestine. What are you doing here?"She stepped closer, her voice steady but her heart pounding

The central jail was cold and gray, the air thick with the smell of disinfectant and despair. Jackson, James, and Andrew were led through a maze of corridors by a nervous-looking guard, their footsteps echoing on the concrete floors.Warden Collins met them at the entrance to the cell block. He was a heavyset man with a tired face and nervous eyes, his hands clasped in front of him.He had been in charge of Jerry since the day he was convicted and brought to jail."Mr. Hart," he said, his voice strained. "Thank you for coming. I'm sorry it's under these circumstances."Jackson's voice was cold, his eyes fixed on the warden. "Show me the cell."Collins nodded and led them to the end of the corridor. The cell door was open, the yellow tape stretched across it marking it as a crime scene. Jackson ducked under the tape and stepped inside.The cell was small, sparse—a cot, a sink, a toilet. Jerry's body lay on the floor, covered by a white sheet. Jackson knelt beside it, his hand hovering

The drive back to the estate was silent, the weight of grief and unanswered questions pressing down on everyone.Jackson sat in the back seat, his eyes fixed on the passing landscape. Bella sat beside him, her hand resting on his. James drove, his jaw tight, while Andrew sat in the passenger seat, his face unreadable.The Hart estate loomed ahead, its familiar silhouette a comfort in the midst of the chaos. The family filed inside, their footsteps heavy, their hearts weary.Ruth was the first to speak."Jackson," she said, her voice sharp, "I don't trust Yvonne Tween. She disappeared without a trace when we needed her most, and now she shows up at Jerry's funeral? It's too convenient."Jackson turned to face her, his voice calm but firm. "I know you don't trust her, Ruth. But she said she has information—important information. I need to know what she knows."Ruth's eyes narrowed. "And you're willing to walk into a trap?""I'm willing to listen," Jackson said. "That doesn't mean I'll w

Jackson closed his eyes, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He had left the estate to hunt down a lead, and in doing so, he had left his mother vulnerable."I'm on my way," he said. "I'm coming home."He ended the call and turned to James and Andrew, his face pale but his voice steady."We need to go. Now."James stepped forward, his voice firm. "What happened?"Jackson's jaw tightened. "They took Ruth. Marcia has her."Andrew's face went pale. "We'll get her back. We'll find her."Jackson nodded, his resolve hardening. "I know. But first, we need to get back to the estate. We need to make sure everyone else is safe."He turned to the suspect, his voice cold. "This isn't over. You'll tell us everything you know. But right now, I have a mother to save."***The drive back to the Hart estate was a blur of speed and silence.Jackson sat in the back seat, his jaw tight, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. James drove with a controlled urgency, his hands steady on the wheel. Andr