The late afternoon sun bathed the forest path in warm amber light as Evelyn walked the familiar trail toward the cottage she once called home. Every step crunched against the old stones, every breath tasted of pine and memory. The wind rustled through the tall oaks above her, whispering secrets from a life she had buried deep in the shadows of her heart.
This wasn’t the kind of return she had imagined. Not triumphant, not planned—just necessary. Her feet had carried her back to Silvercrest after years of exile, but her heart had guided her here—to the woman who had loved her before anyone else had the chance to break her.
The small stone cottage appeared through the trees like a quiet memory. It was exactly as she remembered: the ivy still clung to the walls, the wooden gate slightly cro
