"...You're telling me you're Dahlia?"
Primrose smiled. Victoria was staring at the young woman with an air of utter confusion painted on her face. Just as Helen had hinted, her friend hadn't changed much in the last couple of decades. In fact, it was hard to believe she was twenty years older than in Primrose's dream, except for the crow’s feet, her hair that she had cut short harboring a few white streaks, and the few pounds she'd lost. She wore a burgundy suit, and still had her high heels on. She had come home straight from work but had only heard the whole story just now as Helen had only texted her they'd have a special guest over for dinner. They were standing in the kitchen while Helen was cooking with a smile on her face, her eyes riveted on her partner and the young girl.
"No
