chapter thirty-one
The morning of May 15, 2049, dawned with the kind of soft Virginia light that made everything feel like a memory being born. Dogwoods along the creek were in full bloom, pink and white petals drifting lazily on the breeze like gentle confetti from the sky. The orchard behind the house was a sea of pale green leaves and tiny swelling peaches, the air thick with their faint almond scent and the richer perfume of lilacs Emily had planted years ago along the fence line. Amelia Rose Hayes—twenty-three, radiant, auburn curls tamed into loose waves threaded with wildflowers—was marrying her childhood sweetheart, Daniel, beside the same stretch of creek where her parents had once stood watching fireflies and making promises to the future. The family had transformed the backyard into a living dre
- Writer
