FREYA CARTER
The house was silent at that hour.
The wedding had been exhausting, and even though we had returned late, sleep hadn’t come easily to me. My mind had been too full Laura’s words circling endlessly in my thoughts.
Hazel.
The name had refused to leave me alone. So eventually I had given up trying to sleep.
I sat on the sofa in the living room, wrapped in the quiet darkness of the house. The only light came from the small lamp beside me, casting a soft glow across the room.
I was wearing a light green night dress, something comfortable I had slipped into after removing the heavy wedding clothes. Rowan was fast asleep in our room.
My hands rested loosely on my lap. The silence should have been peaceful. Instead, my thoughts kept drifting back to the same question.
Who was
