Too Late For Regret, Mr. Montgomery

tears turned his face black with rage. Without asking a sing

e to your stepmo

oud. Twenty years of the e

, and you're ordering me to apologize j

ying, you're the one in the wrong!" Robe

ldn't hurt her anymore. Allie stared at her

dollars from the Montgomery

obert exploded as if someo

re sitting on a mountain of gold every day, and you're still houn

xistent tears beside h

e price is his retirement fund. What kind of married daughter asks for her bride

bert pointed toward the

out of my ho

looking coldly at the

ney, I have no standing le

ity in Robert's

Whose fault is it that you can't

tely. She knew before coming that getting the cash back was nearly impossible, yet she

bligation to support you in your old age. From this moment on, whether the Morrow family lives or dies has nothing to do with me.

straight to the storage room at the back of the hall. Sharon

oing? Trying to

ged to my mother,"

ced brass carrying handle. It was the only personal property her mother had left her before dying. Allie bent down, carefully hooked her uninju

er eyes and spa

uable. Just a piece of rusted junk f

ng back to the bay, Allie set the cold metal case securely on her lap, keeping her bandaged palm steady as she dia

ep-green emerald, alongside a miniature engraved silver filigree key nestled in a tailored velvet groove-the mechanical key to unlock the locket's concealed inner chamber. There had originally been a pair of these lockets. On

disaster zone. Dark soda and melted chocolate smeared the white Italian leather sofas, red crayon scribbles ruined the custom wool rug, and antique porcelain vases lay knocked over on the floor. Christa had explicitly forbidden the staff fr

et us clean..." Maria whispered with red

lding the metal handle of the loc