Heaven stood inside the ballroom, gazing out the curtain wall at the Pacific Coast. The rolling waves stole her breath. Before her trip ended, she would play in those waves. Right now, she had to get through the reception.
The rest of the ballroom proved just as gorgeous as the scenery. She examined the clover-colored tablecloths and lemon candles. Mr. McConnell had spared no expense for Chelsea’s wedding.
Good. He owed her that much.
The delicate scent of daffodils lingered in the air. Those beautiful flowers represented the triumph of hope over despair. Heaven shuddered at the thought.
Poor Chelsea. If her despair had overtaken her all those years ago… What a horrible thought. Thank god she had survived her attempted suicide. Secrets had a way of hurting the people they protected.
B
