Lily burst into tears.
Not because she was sad.
Because she was hungry.
Margaret immediately knelt beside her.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
Lily hugged the tray like someone might take it away.
I had to turn around so nobody would see me crying.
Three days later, I met Nathan’s family.
And immediately understood why he needed a wife.
His mother, Eleanor Brooks, was confined to a wheelchair.
Cancer had reduced her physically, but her eyes remained sharp.
She studied me carefully.
“So you’re Emily.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Her lips curved slightly.
“You look exactly like the kind of woman my son would choose.”
Nathan nearly choked on his coffee.
“We’re not actually—”
“I know what arrangement this is,” Eleanor interrupted.
Then she looked at me.
