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“Like who?” I ask.

Sloan sits down beside me on the bed, a wistful smile on her lips. She reaches out, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from my face.

Her touch is soft, almost motherly. “Your mother. You have her eyes, her smile. It’s like looking at a ghost.”

My heart skips a beat. “You knew my mother?”

She nods, her gaze distant as if lost in a memory. “We were close friends in college. Inseparable, really.”

If she was close to my mother. Does Sloan know about the circumstances of my mother’s death? She wasn’t at the funeral, not that I remember.

I lean forward, desperate for any scrap of information about the woman I barely remember. “What was she like?”

A laugh escapes Sloan’s lips. “Oh, she was a real go-getter. Beautiful, kind, and fiercely loyal. I remember this one time wewere at a party, and some guy was getting a little too handsy with me. Rose marched right up to him, looked him dead in the eye, and said, ‘If you don’t take your hands off my friend right now, I’ll make sure you never use them again.’ He practically ran out of the room with his tail between his legs.”

The exact opposite of me. “She sounds amazing.”

“She was.” Her voice is tinged with sadness. “Everyone loved her. She had this way of making you feel like you were the most important person in the world when she talked to you.”

Is there a thing we have in common? Did she spend most of her time in the library, too?

Sloan clears her throat. “How’s Marc doing these days?”

I blink. “Uncle Marc?”

“Yeah. I haven’t seen him since—We were all friends back in college. Marc, your parents, John, and I. We were quite the group.”

“He’s good,” I say. “Always working, though. He’s constantly at the office or traveling for business.”

“That sounds like the Marc I remember. He was always the responsible one. And how are your brothers doing?”

I freeze. “They’re doing well. Landon just won a prize, and Levi’s doing cases.”

“Hard working.”

An awkward silence settles between us, and I fidget with the edge of the duvet, unsure of what to say next.

“Well, I should let you get settled in. I’m sure you want to freshen up before dinner.” Sloan rises from the bed, smoothing out her dress.

“Thank you again for the towels and for… for telling me about my mother.”

Her expression softens, and she reaches out to give my hand a gentle squeeze. “Of course, dear. I’m so glad to have finally met you. Rose would be proud of the woman you’ve become.”

My throat tightens, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. “Thanks.”

“And don’t mind John. He’s just… well, he’s John. He takes a while to warm up to new people, but he’ll come around.”

With that, she turns and walks out of the room, closing the door softly behind her. Why did Marc never tell me that he and my parents were friends with the Barrons?

I flop back onto the pillows, staring up at the ceiling.

Should I ask Uncle Marc?

After a quick shower, I walk down and have dinner with Sloan and Gemma while John and Sebastian are out for a business dinner.

I feel bad for monopolizing so much of his time lately. Between exams, his training, and working for his father, I know he’s been stretched thin. And yet, he’s always making time for us to be together.

Am I too selfish? Demanding too much of his attention when he has so many other responsibilities. The last thing I want is to be a burden or distraction from his goals. Sebastianis driven and ambitious, and I admire that about him. I don’t want to hold him back or make things harder than they need to be.

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