I stepped out of the car and made my way to the house.
"He's in the study, Ava," Serena said as she met me at the door. She looked better than she had a few weeks ago. Her eyes no longer red-rimmed. She offered me a small smile and a peace offering.
"How was his night?" I asked, handing her my coat.
"Quiet," she said. "He was awake at dawn, asking if the gardener had the roses cut properly. He wanted everything to look 'decent' for your visit."
I nodded and walked toward the back of the house. The room was full light and filled with flowers. It used to be my mother’s favorite place in the house.
Richard Thorne was sitting in a high-backed armchair. He wasn't the man who had loomed over me in my childhood. He looked like a shadow of his former self, the lines on his face were deeper, h
