Chapter 13

The late afternoon sunlight slanted lazily through the half-drawn curtains of Amelia’s dining room. The table between them was modestly set, two cups, a porcelain teapot steaming gently, and a small plate of biscuits Clara had insisted on bringing along.

Amelia sat opposite Clara, her spoon clinking softly against the rim of her cup as she stirred her tea in slow circles, her eyes lowered. Clara, leaning back comfortably in her chair, studied her friend with a knowing gaze.

“So…” Clara began, finally breaking the silence that had been stretching between them, “you have been avoiding me, Amelia. Don’t bother denying it. If I didn’t push today, you would probably have postponed again.”

Amelia sighed, shoulders sagging as though the weight of the words pressed her down.

“It is not like I’m avoiding you,” she murmured, finally lifting her gaze. “Adrian and I only just settled things yesterday. I have been… angry at him.”

Clara’s brow arched, though her lips