Chapter 3

Winter arrived with a bitter chill, dusting the estate in a fine layer of white on the morning of my birthday.

To my surprise, Michael had not forgotten. He presented me with a gift, a hairpin of exquisite craftsmanship, its stem wrought of gold filigree, set with a ruby that caught the light like a captured ember.

I'd seen it at a jeweler before, yet had dismissed it as a frivolity far beyond reach.

"Happy birthday, Charlotte," he said, his voice softer than I had heard in months.

A faint smile touched his lips, the first genuine one directed at…