When Seraphina Quinn woke up, she was in her own bed at Quinn Manor.
It was a bright, sunny morning. Outside the window, birds sang and flowers bloomed.
Seraphina Quinn opened her eyes, an unprecedented wave of weakness washing over her.
"You're awake?"
A vaguely familiar baritone drifted from the foot of the bed.
Seraphina Quinn's eyes widened in shock!
As she propped herself up, trying to sit, the man was already walking toward her. "Just lie still. Don't move."
The man, dressed in smoky-gray loungewear, exuded an unfamiliar air of gentle refinement and dignified grace.
He had deep-set eyes and a high-bridged nose, and his gaze was full of doting affection as he looked at her.
Seraphina Quinn's nose tingled, and she nearly burst into tears.
Her voice was a mumble. "Un... Uncle?"
Wyatt Quinn pulled out a tissue and leaned over to wipe the tears from the corners of her eyes.
