I watched as Wilma gathered her things, her warm smile making me forget the turmoil of the past hours, if only for a moment.
"You must come visit us again soon," I said, reaching for her weathered hand. "Perhaps we could have a proper baking day. I'd love to learn your sweet bread recipe."
Wilma's eyes crinkled with pleasure. "Nothing would delight me more, my dear. To think I spent so many years not knowing my own granddaughter!"
"Better late than never," I replied, squeezing her hand gently.
She nodded, patting my cheek with her free hand. "You've grown into such a strong woman, Isabella. Your mother would be—"
The door burst open with such force that both Wilma and I jumped. Dowager Duchess Annelise Thorne stood in the doorway, her usually perfect appearance slightly disheveled, eyes wild with agitation.
"Where is she?" Annelise demanded, striding into the room without so much as a greeting. "I went to check on her and found the cell empty!"
