Cassia stared at the phone. The message was gone from the screen, but the words were still in her head.
Not everything she left behind was buried.
Her voice was quiet, but it felt final.
“No. She’s here.”
Dorian stood close, arms folded. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.” Cassia kept her eyes on the table. “That photo was taken from the ridge. She always stood there on harvest mornings. She called it the vineyard’s lifeblood. No one else knew that spot. Only her and me.”
Dorian leaned in. “Then she wanted you to know.”
“She wanted me unsettled,” Cassia corrected. Her throat tightened. “If she walks through those gates, everyone will see me as her daughter again before they see me as their leader.”
He reached for her hand. His touch was firm, steady. “Then show them who you are now.”
Cassia bre
