Chapter 293:
The car pulled up to a small farm, dotted with greenhouses. Brad stepped out and turned on a heavy-duty flashlight. The beam cut clean through the darkness.
Rylie followed behind, catching a light scent of cedar and gunpowder from Brad. She figured he’d been at the shooting range earlier.
Just then, the door opened. Dottie stepped out, apron tied around her waist, flour on her hands. Her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the two unfamiliar faces standing behind her daughter.
“Who are these people?”
Melany quickly made introductions. “This is my tutor Rylie, and this is… Zaylee’s…” The word “boyfriend” flashed through her mind, but she said, “Zaylee’s brother. He’s in the military and didn’t want me going home alone, so he brought me back.”
At the mention of the military, Dottie’s tension eased. She smiled warmly and stepped aside.
“I just made some late-night snacks. Come in and have a bite.”
Brad was about to politely decline — it was quite late — but Rylie caught the smell of the food and spoke up, “I’m actually starving.”
Seeing that Rylie insisted on staying, Brad realized something. In a deep voice, he said, “Then we’ll take you up on that offer!”
Brad stepped inside with Rylie, taking in the house’s simple setup. It wasn’t much, but something about the air felt easy — like comfort lived there. Dottie had a fresh apple pie cooling on the counter and two heaping plates of ravioli waiting at the table.
“Thanks for making sure Melany got home safe,” she said, setting down the cutlery and pouring each of them a mug of hot milk. “Please, sit. Make yourselves comfortable.”
As Rylie settled in, her eyes landed on the apple pie, topped with fresh green sprigs. She sliced off a piece, slid it onto her plate, and took a bite. Between chews, she asked casually, “Hey, are the green leaves on top supposed to be eaten?”
Dottie let out a small laugh. “They’re totally edible. Just a little mint I grow myself — gives it a fresh kick.”
Feel the thrill at gαℓησν𝒆𝓁s﹒𝚌o𝓂
Rylie paused mid-bite, blinking at her. “Wait — you grow your own mint?”
Dottie gave a quick nod. “Why? Something wrong with it?”
Rylie plucked one of the leaves from her plate, turning it over between her fingers. “It looks sharper than regular mint. The shape’s different — might be a rare variety.”
Dottie tilted her head, brushing it off. “My husband brought it home from one of his trips, but it’s definitely mint.”
“What makes you so sure it’s just mint?” Rylie asked, her curiosity growing.
Catching on to her interest, Dottie added, “My husband knew his plants. He was a botanist — if it wasn’t mint, he’d have known.”
“Do you think I could meet him sometime?” Rylie leaned forward, intrigued.
An uneasy pause settled over the table before Melany finally spoke, her tone low, “My dad passed away two years ago. Late-stage liver cancer. That mint’s the last thing he left us, and my mom’s kept it going ever since.”
Rylie’s hands shook as the small leaf slipped from her fingers. The light above the table felt suddenly too harsh, almost glaring. She dropped her gaze, hoping to hide what flickered in her eyes.
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