A cold feeling crept up my spine.
“Who are you calling?” I asked, taking a step back.
He covered the receiver, his eyes wide.
“Miss… the master has been searching for you for 20 years!”
My pulse spiked.
“Who are you calling?”
Before I could demand what that meant, a lock clicked behind the showroom.
The back door swung open.
And when I saw who stepped through, I gasped.
“Desiree?!”
She looked older, of course. Time had softened the edges of her face and added silver to her hair. But she carried herself the same way I remembered: straight-backed, composed, elegant without trying.
She was my grandmother’s best friend!
She looked older.
Desiree used to visit my grandmother, bringing pastries and stories I was too young to understand.
I hadn’t seen her in years.
The moment her eyes landed on me, something in her broke.
Like she’d been holding something together for too long.
“I’ve been looking for you,” she said softly.
Before I could react, she crossed the room and pulled me into a hug.
It caught me off guard.
Warm. Familiar.
And completely unexpected.
