The Thompson estate's garden was a picture of European charm—a vintage fountain gurgling at its center, romantic statues dotting the manicured lawns, and delicate, tempting treats on display. As the soft night breeze brushed Rachel Foster's cheeks, she kicked playfully in the pool water and cheerfully remarked, "I haven't felt this relaxed in ages."
Sitting beside her, Maggie—barefoot like Rachel and splashing in the cool water—gazed into the distance and sighed, "I wonder what Luna Bennett is up to tonight."
Rachel paused and then asked, "Haven't you been in touch with Miss Bennett these past two years?"
Maggie let out a gentle sigh. "It's not that we don't talk. But every time I do, there's this bittersweet undertone. Even though she tries to sound as carefree as before, I can always hear the loneliness and loss in her voice."
