Philip's jaw tensed. He was momentarily lost for words.
Jeffrey's declaration had shaken something in him—something old, something fragile. He wanted to scrutinize every word, to challenge it. This was the same reckless, irresponsible grandson he had raised, the one he knew inside out. And hadn't he said the same thing about another woman just four years ago?
How could he believe him now?
And yet… a part of him wanted to.
Jeffrey leaned in, his voice quieter, more urgent. "Grandpa… I've met her before, haven't I? When I was fifteen, we came to Rockchapel. We stayed at her house, didn't we?" His gaze searched Philip's face. "And that man… he was there too. She saved my life, didn't she?"
Philip's breath caught.
His eyes widened as memory rushed back like a flood.
