"I used to think,"
Camilla murmured, her fingers tracing the smooth curve of her abdomen, her voice soft and tender, "that meeting you again had already used up all my luck.
But now, with the baby coming and news about Grandpa..."
Her thick lashes fluttered almost imperceptibly as she gazed at the scenery blurring past the window.
"Everything—absolutely everything—is moving in the right direction.
It's as if fate has decided to spoil me in this lifetime.
I can hardly believe it... and it scares me a little."
The thought of losing even a single thing she now held terrified her.
The fear that she might wake up one day only to find herself back in her past life, that all of this was nothing but a fleeting dream before her soul dissolved—she couldn't bear to dwell on it.
When Camilla spoke of "meeting again," she meant her rebirth.
But to Sinclair, it simply sounded like a reunion from childhood to the present. Sinclair noticed nothing amiss.
