Shirley, humming a tune, drove her car past Florence's in a cheerful mood. Whenever she looked back, she could recognize who was in the car easily.
Unfortunately, she was overwhelmed by her joy, so she blinded her surroundings.
Florence didn't get out of her car, quietly observing the middle-aged woman hanging laundry in the Moore Villa courtyard through the window.
It was ironic; despite living two lifetimes, this was her first time to see the woman who had been constantly mentioned by Lancelot as his teacher's wife, Rachel Graves.
Time had been kind to the beautiful woman. Elegant and poised, her every feature exuded charm, and her figure was even more enviable than her daughter, Shirley's.
They say loving someone is like nurturing a flower. Seeing Rachel in such a great state, you
