Aurelia's POV
The sunrise painted the cemetery in hues of gold and amber as I made my way through the wrought iron gates. Thursday mornings were sacred—the only time I allowed myself to visit Violet's grave alone, to speak to my daughter without prying eyes or false sympathies.
I carried a woven basket filled with fresh wildflowers, a small stuffed unicorn, and a jar of homemade strawberry jam—Violet's favorite. My steps faltered as I approached her headstone. Something was wrong.
Two figures stood by my daughter's grave. My breath caught in my throat.
Julian and Natalie.
My mate—no, my ex-mate—and the woman responsible for my daughter's death, standing over Violet's resting place like they had any right to be there.
I froze, concealed behind a large oak tree, watching this grotesque tableau unfold. Julian knelt, arranging various items around the headstone—a stuffed wolf, a book, and a small pink dress. His shoulders shook with what appeared to be sobs.
