CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Summer settled over the mountain valley like a warm, golden blanket, turning the days long and languid. The floating dock became a daily ritual…seven sisters gathering there at dawn with mugs of coffee or tea, legs dangling in the lake as mist rose from the water and birds called from the pines.
The garden flourished under Sienna’s gentle care, herbs spilling over their beds and wildflowers nodding in the breeze.
Isabella’s little studio filled with canvases: lake at sunrise, sisters laughing on the dock, the cabin glowing at dusk each painting grew bolder, colors richer, as her hands learned to trust the freedom of creation without observation.
One warm afternoon, the seven sisters decided to expand their small world further. They cleared a patch of land behind th
