Yvonne Finley slept deeply that night, oblivious to what had transpired or what was said by Caleb Baker. She awoke feeling tired, as though she had run a marathon, a peculiar and unpleasant sensation.
By the time she woke up.
The sun was high in the sky.
It was eleven o'clock.
The room was dark, the curtains blocking out the blazing sun, not disturbing her sleep in the slightest, allowing her to rest peacefully.
When she got up, she languished for a while before finally getting out of bed.
She went to the window.
Pulling back the curtains, the sunlight rushed in, bathing the room in golden light. The rose garden in the greenhouse seemed to be dusted with golden powder, shimmering, so beautiful that she could hardly tear her eyes away. The view was even more stunning in the light of day than at night.
A look of astonishment gradually came over her face, followed by a soft laugh.
At such a young age, where had he learned all this charm?
However, quite soon.
