Olivia's POV

I was back in the bedroom, and I was alone. My father's ash jar was cradled on my lap, and I was staring into empty space.

The door creaked open, but I didn't turn to see who it was.

I felt a gentle pressure beside me, and two large hands took the ash jar for my grasp and placed it back on the shelf where it belonged.

“Olivia, are you…”

“André, I am fine. There's just a lot to think about. But I assure you that I'm okay.”

André pulled me into an embrace but ...