Celeste's POV:
The moment the plane touched down, I looked out the window at the familiar night sky.
The car passed through the iron gates, circled the fountain, and stopped in front of the old estate.
My father was sitting in the leather chair in his study. The coffee in front of him had gone cold. Five years had left almost no mark on his face. His gaze was still as sharp as a hawk's.
"Sit," he said.
I sat down across from him.
"Five years is not that long," my father said. "Some people spend their entire lives failing to see someone for who they really are. If it took you five years, then it took you five years."
I did not answer.
"Celeste," he said, "I know you have been angry with me since your mother passed away."
My fingers tightened.
"But as your father, I believe I have
