Julian’s words left Madeline speechless. She just sat there for a moment, stunned, with happiness and disbelief tumbling through her.
Her mother was back!
The news hit her like electricity, straight to the heart.
How many years had she waited for even a glimpse of her mother? Now, out of nowhere, she didn’t know what to do with herself.
“Really? How does she look? Is she… alright?”
Julian gave a barely-there smile. “She looks good.”
“I want to go to the Ballard house tomorrow. Can you take me?”
Madeline’s voice brimmed with urgency. She couldn’t wait another second to see Shelly—she wanted to rush out the door right now if she could.
And honestly, she wanted to show up at the banquet herself. Not just to be part of things, but to hear the outcome with her own ears. This whole drama had dragged on long enough. It needed to end.
“No.” There was no softening in Julian’s answer, not even a second’s hesitation.
Madeline didn’t protest. She already knew why. With the injuries she’d gotten, he wouldn’t let her out of his sight, let alone out of the house.
But really, it was just some cuts from the branches, maybe a bruise or two from when she’d tripped and landed hard. The worst was when Luke had slammed into her. She’d rolled twice and scraped her back on a broken branch, which still ached if she moved wrong. Other than that, it was her eyes—she still couldn’t see.
“Julian, I swear I’m fine now. Especially after that soup. I feel recharged,” she said, forcing a smile.
Julian’s face stayed stern as he stood up and tucked her hand gently under the covers. “Oh, really? That soup must’ve been magic. I had no idea you needed anything more than a bowl of broth.”
“I’m serious, I really—”
“If you’re feeling so energetic, maybe we should put that to use somewhere else.”
Madeline clamped her mouth shut. She didn’t even have to see his face to know exactly what kind of look he was giving her.
“Are you for real?”
“Hm?”
“I’m half-dead here and you’re thinking about that? You’re such a perv,” she muttered.

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