When I picked up Dennis’s charm bracelet, I noticed something unusual about the charms.
Under the dim light, I examined them closely and finally saw that each charm was inscribed with a word: Camille.
In that moment, I gave up on Dennis entirely.
…
The next morning, I said to Dennis, “Let’s go to the Willow family residence together.”
His expression froze for a brief second before he regained his composure. “All right,” he said calmly, “but let’s return right after we’ve delivered the gift.”
I knew he didn’t want me to go. He was afraid I might disrupt Camille’s celebration.
But I only wanted to see my family one last time. After all, tomorrow, I would begin preparing to leave.
At the Willow family residence, the place was abuzz with guests celebrating Camille’s pregnancy and her selection for the international art exhibition.
In the crowd, Camille was the center of attention, surrounded by glowing admiration. Guests lavished her with praise, saying her painting submitted to the competition was certain to win a major award.
When I walked in, Camille’s face briefly darkened, but she quickly masked it with a poised smile.
