A week passed since I had sent my letter to Luke, each day filled with anticipation and nervousness. Jane's situation had somewhat stabilized; she was adjusting to the idea of her parents' divorce, though there were still difficult moments. Her presence in our home had become a comfort, a reminder of the importance of family during trying times.
It was on a sunny Tuesday afternoon when the reply from Luke finally arrived. I was in the garden with Jane, helping her tend to the roses, when my mother called out from the porch.
"Bella, dear! There's a letter for you!"
My heart leapt into my throat as I exchanged a knowing glance with Jane. "Go on," she urged, a smile playing on her lips. "I'll finish up here."
With trembling hands, I took the letter from my mother, retreating to the privac
