Chapter 80

The steering wheel felt cold beneath Isabella's fingers as she drove away from the equestrian center.

She had no destination in mind.

Emily and Nathaniel were busy with their own plans. Returning to the Sinclair mansion without Sophia seemed pointless—Margaret would only worry more.

Her thoughts swirled as she passed Sunshine Park. Families picnicked on the grass. Couples strolled hand in hand. Young adults pushed elderly parents in wheelchairs.

Their laughter stung. A hollow ache spread through her chest.

After twenty more minutes of aimless driving, she abruptly pulled over.

Her phone felt heavy in her palm. Three rings later, a familiar voice answered. "Dr. Whitmore speaking."

"How is my mother today?"

The nursing home courtyard smelled of lavender and antiseptic.

Evelyn sat motionless on a bench, her once-vibrant eyes now vacant. The woman who'd twirled Isabella around their garden now barely recognized her own daughter.

Even after all these years, the sight still stole Isabella's breath.

A quiet voice interrupted her thoughts. "No change." Henry Whitmore adjusted his glasses. "She's stable, but..."

Isabella understood. Any mention of the past could trigger another episode. These rare moments of calm were too fragile to risk.

When Evelyn's gaze flickered toward her, Isabella retreated behind a tree.

"I trust you'll take good care of her," she told Henry and the nurses.

"Of course, Ms. Sinclair."

Through the lounge window, she watched Evelyn trace patterns on her own palm. After leaving the new books and toiletries at reception, Isabella forced herself to leave.

The park beckoned again on her drive back. Colorful kites danced against the blue sky. Before she could reconsider, she turned into the parking lot.

Warm sunlight. Children's laughter. The scent of cotton candy.

Everyone belonged to someone. Except her.

She hovered near a kite vendor when tiny fingers curled around hers.

"Ms. Sinclair?"

Isabella looked down. "Lily?"

The girl nodded solemnly, not letting go.

Julian Montgomery appeared moments later. His greeting died when he saw Isabella. "Here alone?"

"Yes."

"No Sophia?"

Isabella shook her head.

Lily tugged her hand. "Fly with me?"

"I shouldn't—"

"Join us," Julian cut in. "We're short on kite experts."

When she hesitated, he added, "I'll just watch. Think of it as doing Lily a favor."

The girl's hopeful eyes decided it.

They chose a sapphire butterfly kite together.

Isabella remembered kite-flying with Sophia, but this one was larger than expected. Lily struggled to hold the string.

Julian stepped forward without being asked. Their fingers brushed during the handoff.

The kite soared.

Lily's delighted laughter filled the air.

For the first time that day, Isabella didn't feel quite so alone.