When Mrs. Ormond saw the two young people embracing just now, her heart nearly stopped. It felt like the sky was crashing down around her. In that moment, she almost screamed.

But she had instinctively covered her mouth, forcing herself to stay silent.

As soon as the couple let go of each other, she spun around and walked away, no longer watching from the stairs. She wanted to pretend she hadn't seen anything, to go back to her room and process it quietly.

But she couldn't.

She had to talk to her daughter.

Just as she was struggling with her emotions, Elora came upstairs. And now, here she was, sitting in her daughter's room.

Elora studied her mother's expression for a moment before saying, "Alright, Mom, stay here. I'm going to take a hot bath."

Mrs. Ormond simply nodded.

As Elora disappeared into the bathroom, her mother let out a deep sigh.

Now that she had calmed down and thought about it more clearly, she had to admit—damn it, Tatum and her daughter were a perfect match.

The thought unsettled her. She couldn't sit still.

objects on the shelves

on the bedside table, where a large

during the New Year, back

she walked over, picked up

in the photo radiated pure

family legacy hadn't yet fallen onto her young

into the top position at such a

bright, unburdened smile had

been a son, things would have been different. A son

daughters might help out, but they didn't carry the full

wanted, to fall

had

daughter of the Ormond

young boys in the next generation, but they were still too little to shoulder any responsibility. Instead of being

more she thought about it, the heavier the guilt settled

like

given her daughter a

able to shield Elora from the

"Mom."

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