Emily Taylor

“Come on, Buster, lets go home,” murmured Geoffrey Whitmore, gently stroking the scruffy

**Personal Diary Entry** Sarah was forty-seven when she decided to adopt. Not a child. Not a dog.

For three days, Emma scrubbed every corner of her cottage as if time itself, not dust, were the enemy

What did you just say? Emily froze, a cold shiver running down her spine. James stood by the door, his

The words echoed through the gilded halls of the Whitmore estate, silencing everyone in an instant.

He told me I wasnt “father material”but I raised those kids from day one.When my sister Maisie

Sophies Father: “My dear child, wherever you are, help Emily and Oliver return to life.”

I wont mince words. Im your husbands mistress! Weve been seeing each other all these years. Yes!

The maid handed a homeless boy a plate of hot food from the kitchen, risking her job.It was one of those

“Oh, Lily, what about those extra pounds of yours? Surely that’s a problem?”