Camille stared at the photograph.
She read the words again.
Some promises never die.
Her fingers tightened around the edges of the picture.
For several seconds, she simply stood there.
The house was unusually quiet.
Everyone had gone to their rooms.
The wedding preparations had finally slowed for the night.
And yet—
one sentence had managed to pull her straight back into the world she thought they had finally escaped.
She turned the photograph over again.
Nothing.
No name.
No explanation.
Just those four words.
Camille swallowed.
Then she heard footsteps behind her.
She turned.
Dante stood at the entrance to the room.
His expression changed the moment he saw her face.
"What happened?"
She didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she handed him the photograph.
He studied it.
His eyes moved across the image.
Isabelle.
Cassandra.
Camille's mother.
Young.
Beautiful.
Happy.
Then he turned it over.
His jaw tightened.
"Who sent this?"
"I don't know."
