Family heirloom? Ewan swallowed, darting a glance at the bracelet still held gently by Florence, like it was a long-lost—but found—treasure.
His savior was a Thorne? Yet, how was that possible? There was no Thorne his age; except maybe Cedric. And even then, it wasn't a male that had jumped into the raging river to save him.
It wasn't a male that had been friends with him, playing and running down fields with him.
No, it had been a female. A female with black long hair, and the best of smiles.
There must be a misunderstanding somewhere, he thought, taking a step back before he could realize what he was doing. It couldn't be a Thorne. Maybe a similar bracelet?
"Why are you moving away? Won't you answer my questions?"
Ewan exhaled, sliding his hand into his pockets. "Let's talk in the sitting room. Standing is making me more tired than usual," He replied to Florence, who nodded frantically before gesturing to the door.
"This way, then."
