Vincent pov

Melinda hasn't changed a bit. She's still the same loving and bubbly personality I remember her to be.

On our way to the packhouse, I keep throwing glances at Enya. She's visibly anxious, and while her mother keeps asking questions, the only moment my mate speaks up is to answer a question. She doesn't ask her own questions, though I know she has many. Perhaps in time, I'm sure Enya needs a moment or two to get used to the situation. After all, it's not every day that your dead mother comes back to life and appears in front of you. I couldn't blame Enya because I would...