Amara was staring fascinatingly out of the window as we drove to my vineyard after breakfast. She actually looked fascinated with every little thing. Even the heart pattern in her cappuccino. If I haven't forced, she would have never drank that. It showed how little of the world she has seen. It felt like she was a small girl trapped in a dark closet.
Small girl trapped in a dark closet...instantly those terrified green eyes invaded my brain and I gazed at Amara. If she was alive, she ought to be Amara's age. Or maybe younger. I wondered where that little girl was. Was she alive? Was she okay? What happened to her? She has to be scarred beyond repair for witnessing that m******e at such a tender age. I hoped to god that she was okay. And I hoped that someday I could find her and redeem f
