"Well, I'm back—and I had a midnight snack," Elora said, glancing at her mother's expression. She could tell right away-her mother had seen her and Tatum hugging.

After a brief silence, she decided to speak first.

"Mom."

"Elora."

They spoke at the same time, then fell silent again.

"You go first, Mom." Elora stepped closer. "You're clearly not sleepy yet. Come to my room- we can have a mother-daughter chat."

That way, they wouldn't disturb her father and brother.

Mrs. Ormond followed her daughter into the bedroom.

She rarely entered Elora's space. Ever since Elora started junior high, she had made it a point not to go into her daughter's room without permission.

As her children grew, they needed their own privacy, and she respected that.

her mother's hesitation.

back from a business trip. Why don't you take a hot bath first? I'll sit

needed a little time to process what she had just

his cooking was exceptional-so exceptional that Elora hadn't gotten tired of it after all

would only last for a short period, thinking

was to Elora, but she hadn't thought

concerned her either. After all, Tatum wasn't just any chef-he was the sixth young master of the prestigious York family from

always admired capable, successful individuals. It was only natural that her attitude toward Tatum had softened once she learned

expected sparks

mindful of Elora's future, often arranging introductions to outstanding young men in the city. But none of those meetings ever led to

no idea what kind of man her daughter was

say she wasn't focused on relationships. Her priority was managing

circumstances, and the fact that Elora was still in

thirty, Mrs. Ormond hadn't

however, particular about her

power made them a target. If Elora married the wrong man— someone ambitious with ulterior

suffer in an unhappy marriage, but she could also be

the

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