Chapter 91

Through the gaps in the grapevines, I could vaguely make out two figures standing way too close. “We’ve picked enough. Let’s go.” His voice was low and calm, just like always—no emotion, no warmth. Before I even decided what to do, my legs had already started moving. I walked straight over—then froze. The scene was like a slap to the face. Vera was dressed in a flowy white dress with a light trench coat. Her hair was pinned up with a wooden hairpin, showing off her graceful neck, and she was looking up at Henry with a smile, holding a grape she’d just picked. Henry stood across from her, wearing a classic gray double-breasted coat. He leaned slightly to the side, avoiding her attempt to feed him and gently took the grape from her hand, tossing it into the basket he was carrying. The basket was nearly overflowing. Clearly, he’d been patiently helping her pick grapes for a while. “Miss Johnson, you’re headed the wrong way. This way, please,” the staff member guiding me circled back when