Predictive Text Couldn't Predict Our Love

g in the main hall, her sad, gentle eyes following you. Her books still filled the shelves. But the person who

derstand. One rainy afternoon, I found a small, leather-bound book t

passion for the stars, and her growing illness. And then, a new name appeare

perimental, but it' s my only hope. John is so worried, but he ag

. The entry was dated just

o reach a book on a high shelf, climbing a rolling library ladd

ble speed, catching me in his arms. My heart hammered aga

e held me for a second too long before setting me down, his

kle, which I' d tw

his touch surprisingly gentle as he wrapped my ankle. He didn' t say a word, but his f

ven colder, heavier. I found Eliza' s recipe book. Using the housekeeper' s instru

illed the house. He stopped in th

aid quietly. "I thought...

in silence and placed the cake by her headstone. It felt li

er. He didn' t mention his wife. He didn' t mention the cake. He looked at Blake' s repo

he said, his voice f

ather, his expression turning to ice. He pu

tightened. "Don' t

said, his voice dangerously low. "I

elope and his half-eaten dinner on the tabl

t want a cake. But I had to do something. I spent my meager allowance on a large,

night, I peeked into his room as I passed by. The door was slightly ajar. He had hung the chart

art, a faint lin

icance: A new sta

ther message flickered, thi

Attachment to Chloe Miller bec

ome true. I walked past his door and went to my room, feeling more a part of this