Shadows Of A Forgotten Spring

Chapter 11

"Miss Moore, you look absolutely marvelous tonight. I didn't expect to see you here. Mrs. Walker gushed, her eyes alight with delight. She seemed almost entranced, she didn't take her eyes off Emma. The older woman was all but tactile in her admiration of Emma, and the situation grew all the more uncomfortable for Emma who felt an overwhelming urge to

escape.

Emma forced a smile, feeling the racing of her heart. "Thank you, ma'am. You're looking great, too." The words came stiffly from her lips, as though every syllable grated upon her nerves. She glanced around the room, her mind racing for an excuse, any excuse to cut the conversation short and disappear into obscurity. The pressure was mounting up, and each second seemed to be dragging on longer than the previous one.

Mrs. Walker, oblivious of Emma's uneasiness, lean closer, her voice softened with concern. "How do you were quite white just now. Would you like me to call help for you? feel now, dear? You

Emma swallowed hard as her throat constricted. "No, I'm fine. Really." She forced a strained smile, hoping it would help to convince the older woman. "Please, excuse me." Before Mrs. Walker could say anything more, Emma slipped away, her heart pounding harder as she wove through the crowded hall.

Just as she was about to stepped out of the room into the hallway leading to the restroom, she collided with someone. Panic shot through her as she mumbled, "My apologies," without so much as a backward glance at the person she bumped. She was. focused on finding refuge somewhere, anywhere, to breathe.

She raced into the bathroom, grasping the edges of the sink as she stood in front of the mirror. Her reflection stared back, but all she could think about was how on earth Mrs. Walker knew her. This makeup was heavy, her hair stylized in a totally different manner but somehow, the older woman recognized her. That realization churned her stomach.

Emma let out a long, shaky breath as her chest tightened, the walls of Blackthorn Holdings closing in around her. This was supposed to be a quick appearance, a simple errand. She hadn't anticipated being recognized-most especially not by the likes of Mrs. Walker who has only met her on two occasions.

But she couldn't spend the day hiding in the bathroom. And her reflection in the mirror wasn't offering any help whatsoever, just a warning of the danger of staying too long. Wiping her hands on her dress, she tapped into her supply of inner strength as she left the restroom and plunged into the crowded hallway again, hoping nobody would see her leave.

No such luck.

Vero, there you are! I have been looking all around for you. I simply must introduce you to some of my friends." Mrs. Walker was firm, yet

her much needed retreat now felt so far from reality, and all she

her toward the center of the bustling room. The crowd felt suffocating, each step amplifying the anxiety twisting in her stomach. Emma's eyes frantically scoured the hall in desperation, hoping for an opening to get away before it was too

tried saying, trying to pull back subtly, but Mrs.

won't take long, dear." Mrs. Walker interrupted

to Emma's inner turmoil.

more rugged than she remembered, his face sharper, eyes darker. The months had made him colder, more distant, like a man untouchable by warmth or emotion. Yet, even now, despite everything, the sight of him stirred emotions

she had once loved hit her like

Tue, Dec 17

Chapter 11

+5

then he had broken everything by choosing Annie over her. The hurt lacing that memory was one which no amount

her throat to go back down where it belonged. She blinked once, twice, as tears welled up and threatened

mechanically as her head failed to register the names and faces on cue. She was focused on being able to stand, avoiding Alexander at all costs. Perhaps if she kept her head down and acted like

who had just joined their circle. "And this, Veronica, is Mr. Kings. He's like the son I never had." Emma extended her hand, trying to maintain her composure as the man took it with a warm, confident grip. For the first time that night, she really looked at the man in front of her, her eyes locking onto his. His green eyes were striking, deep, and somehow familiar like they held a quiet promise of safety. Something inside her stirred, and for a moment, her heart, which had been racing with anxiety all evening, seemed to still. In his presence, the panic that had overcome her since

and genuine, the kind of smile that could put any woman at ease. Emma could feel her heart flutter, and knew it was wrong to let it. She couldn't afford to feel this way, not in her situation, not tonight. Yet Brandon's voice and presence tugged on something in

Brandon added with