Elin's POV

The villa smells like roasted lamb and rosemary when I get home from work. Candles flicker on the dining table, casting warm shadows across the polished wood. Aaron's birthday. I almost forgot.

'You didn't forget,' Istha murmurs. 'You've been thinking about it all week.'

She's right. I bought the gift three days ago—a vintage watch from an estate sale, the kind with exposed gears and brass fittings. The kind he'd never buy himself but would wear every day once he had it.

The ...