Mrs. Wolfe returned with a glass of orange juice in her hands, smiling warmly as she handed it to Amelia.
"Here you go, dear. This should help," she said.
Amelia took the glass with both hands, her smile soft. "Thank you, Mrs. Wolfe."
"Please, call me Mom," Mrs. Wolfe said, sitting down beside her.
Amelia's cheeks flushed at the suggestion, but she nodded politely. "Okay, Mom," she said shyly.
Before another word could be exchanged, the sound of footsteps filled the room. Mr. Wolfe walked in, holding a small velvet box in his hands.
"Ah, there you are," he said, his deep voice echoing as he approached.
Dawson stood up from his seat, raising a brow. "What's that?"
Mr. Wolfe ignored the question and walked straight to Amelia. His face was serious, but his eyes held a certain warmth.
"This is for you," he said, holding out the box to her.
Amelia blinked, confused, as she accepted it. The box was soft under her fingers, and her curiosity grew. "What is it?"
