The morning sun crept slowly from behind the Florence hills, bathing the vineyards and lavender gardens in soft golden light. The summer air still held the coolness of the previous night, and the aroma of damp earth and blooming flowers filled the atmosphere as Blair stood before the black car that would take them back to the city.
The suitcases had already been loaded into the trunk, and Hazel sat in the back seat clutching her new stuffed animal—a gift from grandmother who said it “must accompany the journey home.” Blair stood beside the car, wearing a light blue linen dress that swayed gently in the breeze. Her eyes never left the two figures standing in front of the stone house—Eleanor and her husband, Thomas Evans.
They stood side by side, their faces bearing smiles, but their eyes
