Back then, if Margot cried, Jaxon would be the one panicking most. He'd face Henry's scolding and Lauren's lectures, and in the end, he'd let Margot take a few swings at him just to calm her down. Those simple, happy days were gone forever, lost to time and tragedy.
Jaxon swallowed the ache in his chest, brushing his fingers over the portrait, as if he could still feel the warmth of pinching her cheek. A handwritten card slipped from behind the frame, fluttering to the floor. He snatched it up, Margot's neat handwriting hitting him like a punch.
Jaxon, if you're reading this, please live well for me. Let go of all the grudges and find happiness. I don't ask for much, just one thing: take care of my parents. I'm gone now, so you can all finally move on from the past. Don't grieve for me—I
