Chapter 162

Nikolai. The sun had just started its lazy climb when I stepped outside, coffee mugs in hand and sleep still clinging to the corners of my mind. The estate grounds were soaked in golden light, the grass jeweled with dew like nature had cried a little last night but decided to make the best of it this morning. A breeze swept through the lemon trees, carrying that light citrusy scent Sofia always said reminded her of summers in Italy. The air felt warm but not heavy, peaceful but not silent—alive in a way that made my ribs loosen. It smelled like hope. And after everything we’d survived—everything we were still clawing our way through—I wasn’t going to waste that. Peace like this was rare in our world. You had to hold it tight, two hands and all heart. Across the lawn, I spotted her first. Sofia sat on a picnic blanket under the olive tree—her olive tree, the one she’d stubbornly refused to let the gardeners trim because “It has character, shut up.” Lorelai was perched between her legs,