When I arrived at the airport, I spotted Q immediately.
He was standing at the designated exit, looking sharp in a black overcoat, with a conspicuous blue ribbon tied around his wrist.
It was a marker he had prepared especially for me.
When he saw that I was still wearing my evening gown, he didn't ask any questions or rush to hug me. He simply took my luggage and handed me the flowers.
"K, welcome back."
Seven years.
Hearing that name again made my eyes sting.
It wasn't Mrs. Wynn.
It wasn't the unwanted biological daughter of the Bennett family.
It was a name that belonged only to me.
When Q saw my reddened eyes, whatever joke he had prepared died on his lips.
"The clothes and shoes are ready. Are you hungry? I brought some hot congee for the flight."
My nose stung, but I coul
