Meghan’s P.O.V.
I sat in the warm embrace of the late afternoon sunlight, the golden rays filtering through the trees and casting a soft glow across the backyard. Lila was beside me, chatting about the garden, her voice animated and light. Gran, who was sitting comfortably in her favorite rocking chair, was nodding in agreement, eyes twinkling with the kind of contentment that only the slow rhythms of a long afternoon could bring. We had been talking about everything and nothing—family, the seasons, old recipes. It was just the kind of peaceful afternoon I had been longing for since coming back to Fairview. The kind of afternoon where nothing extraordinary happened, where the quiet was uninterrupted.
But then, from the corner of her eye, I noticed the incoming car. An old, black truck pu
