Poppy grabbed her hand, worry etched on her face as she looked Flora over. “Flora, what are you doing here so late? Did something happen?”
Flora, still haunted by the disappointment she’d glimpsed in Poppy’s eyes just moments ago, felt a pang of sadness. She didn’t say a word.
Evangeline stepped in, her voice calm and even. “It’s nothing serious. Flora’s just staying at the house tonight.”
“Oh, I see.” Poppy breathed a sigh of relief, smiling as she wrapped an arm around Flora’s shoulders.
Young girls always wore their hearts on their sleeves, and Poppy could see Flora’s hurt plain as day. She quickly explained, “Soren hasn’t checked in all day, and then you showed up out of nowhere. I thought maybe something had happened to him–so I got a bit anxious, that’s all.”
Hearing this, the knot in Flora’s chest loosened a little.
“So that’s what it was. I thought you were upset to see me,” Flora said, her voice
small and wounded.
“Of course not!” Poppy hugged her tighter, laughing softly. “I’m always excited when you’re here. I was just worried about Soren, that’s all.”
The explanation melted Flora’s worries away, and she brightened again, reassuring Poppy, “Don’t worry. My brother’s always staying out all night–it’s nothing new. It’s not your fault; he just doesn’t want to see a certain someone.”
As she spoke, Flora cast a meaningful glance in Evangeline’s direction.
Evangeline pretended not to notice.
Once Flora was safely inside, Evangeline didn’t linger. She turned to go.
Flora, puzzled, called after her. “Hey, where are you going?”
Evangeline ignored her, so Poppy answered instead, “Evangeline’s moved out. She doesn’t live here anymore.”
This was news to Flora, and it surprised her. “When did that happen? And where would she even go? Back to the Whitmore family?”
Flora remembered that the Whitmores had never really accepted Evangeline, and things had nearly come to a breaking point between them.
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Sensing Flora’s concern, Poppy teased, “You and Evangeline must be pretty close if you’re this worried about her.”
Hearing the playful jealousy in Poppy’s tone, Flora shook her head quickly. “I’m just curious, that’s all! I don’t care about her.”
She leaned in and hugged Poppy, gazing up with a sweet, coaxing look. “I only care about you, Poppy.”
“Poppy, you smell so nice. Can I sleep with you tonight?”
“Of course,” Poppy said with a gentle laugh, nodding.
But as Flora lowered her head, Poppy’s smile faded, and a flicker of irritation crossed her eyes.
After dropping Flora off, Evangeline drove back to her modest apartment.
She stepped inside, locking the door behind her and flipping on the light, just as she always did.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of something dark. She instinctively turned her head, only to realize, with a jolt, that someone was sitting
on her couch.
The shock nearly made her cry out, but when she looked closer, she saw it was
Soren.
He sat squarely in the center of the couch, arms crossed over his chest, leaning back against the cushions. His long legs were stretched out, resting casually on the coffee table, as if he’d been waiting for her to come home.
She wasn’t surprised that Soren had found her address.
But his face was stormy, his expression cold and distant. He looked anything but pleased.
What was he doing here at this hour? Why hadn’t he gone home?
Evangeline’s mind raced, searching for any offense she might have committed that day. She came up empty,
“What are you doing here?” she asked, emboldened by her own innocence as she approached him.
Soren looked at her calm demeanor and felt a sharp pang in his throat, as if the
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words tasted bitter.
At last, he exhaled, long and slow. “I went to Evergreen Memorial Park today. I saw the child’s grave.”
Evangeline froze, then simply nodded. “Oh.”
She answered as if they were discussing what she’d had for dinner–her face calm, her voice steady, not a trace of sorrow to be found.
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