Chapter 13 - A Knock at the Door
Autumn arrived, painting the oak trees in vibrant shades of amber and gold. On a quiet Sunday afternoon, a sleek black car pulled up to the edge of the dirt driveway—not with aggressive speed, but slowly, almost hesitantly.
The car door opened, and Eleanor Vance stepped out. She wore no expensive jewelry, no formal suits. She wore a simple knit sweater and carried a small, wrapped package.
Clara stood on the porch, her initial instinct to freeze, but she looked at Julian, who gave her a reassuring nod.
May you like
Eleanor walked up the wooden steps slowly, her posture no longer rigid. She stopped at the top step, looking at Clara with genuine humility.
"I don't expect forgiveness," Eleanor said softly, her voice trembling slightly. "I only... I brought something for the baby. If you'll allow me."
