CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
The park had always been their favorite place. Tucked away from the city’s chaos, it offered a sanctuary of calm, with its winding pathways, towering oak trees, and the gentle murmur of a stream weaving through its heart. Daniel hadn’t been there in years. He wasn’t sure what had drawn him back—maybe nostalgia, or perhaps the need for clarity in the wake of his increasingly complex life. As he walked along the familiar trails, memories began to surface, each one sharper than the last. The laughter they had shared, the whispered conversations beneath the trees, and the promises made in the quiet stillness of dusk—it all came rushing back. He turned a corner and froze. There she was, seated at an easel near the stream. Olivia. Her hair was tied back, a few strands escaping to frame
- Writer
