Above her bed, half-open suitcases overflowed with summer clothes—light dresses, linen shirts, and comfortable sandals. Blair sat on the edge of the bed with her phone in hand, writing the final list of things she needed to bring for their vacation to Florence.
Not a business trip. Not an escape. But a real vacation.
Something that once seemed impossible had become reality.
"Mom?" Her father Richard's voice came from behind the door. "Jonathan's car is here."
Blair opened the door to find her father standing in the hallway. The man looked at his daughter in silence for a moment, then smiled softly.
"We'll miss you, sweetheart," he said, his voice gentle but steady.
Blair looked down, hugging her father tightly. "I'll come home, Dad. I promise."
Eleanor appeared behind them with a sm
