Herman Lowell held her hand. "I know. I'll figure something out. We'll never have to worry about money again. I'm not like her. I'll give you the recognition you deserve."
Only then did Yasmine Kimball nod in satisfaction.
...
Alaric Davenport lay on his hospital bed, typing on his laptop for a very long time. Finally, he closed it, found Rosalind Lowell's chat window, and typed out a message—only to edit it and then delete it.
Meanwhile, for the next few days, Skylar Morrison kept her company. They went fishing, sailing, collected seashells, and played with Hope, having the time of their lives.
The injury on her leg had healed, and her body showed no signs of a severe allergic reaction.
Today, they set up their easels. Since they had both studied design, sketching from life was a passion they shared.
She started by painting the sea.
