AURORA’S POV:
The warmth of Loni’s home wraps around me like a blanket fresh out of the dryer. It smells like cinnamon and old wood- comforting, grounding. My heart is thudding in my chest like it wants to escape, but I force myself to sit, to breathe.
Loni leads me into the living room. "Sit, darling. Make yourself comfortable," she says gently, her eyes still flicking over me like she’s seeing a ghost.
I sit. My fingers curl into the couch cushion. I don’t know how to begin. I have so many questions but they all jam at the front of my throat like a traffic pile-up.
Loni watches me with that motherly kind of patience, the one that says you can take all the time you need.
I finally ask the question that's been echoing inside me since the moment I saw the letter.
Not having the patien
