KAREN
“Mum, Dad,” I greeted softly, leaning down to kiss my mother’s cheek first, then my father’s. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, sweetheart,” my mother replied warmly, her hand reaching for mine as I took my seat at the dining table.
My father only nodded, eyes briefly lifting from the tablet in front of him. Even relaxed, he carried authority effortlessly. They had been staying with me for a week now, and from the way things were going, they were in no hurry to leave. Not until they were convinced I was truly fine.
My father could have stayed anywhere. He had properties scattered across Aveline—penthouse suites overlooking the coast, estates hidden behind tall iron gates, and even a quiet villa not far from the hills. But he chose to stay here with me. In my house.
I liked that.
M
