Outside Lilian’s Cottage, 1929

The early morning sun filtered through the trees, its golden rays dancing on the forest floor. Lilian Grey stood by the edge of a small creek, her bare feet sinking into the soft earth as she carefully plucked a sprig of mint from a wild patch. She turned to you with a soft smile, the light catching in her warm gray eyes.

“Do you think they’ll notice if I sneak this into one of Mrs. Ellery’s teas?” she teased, holding up the mint. “She always says her recipes are perfect, but I think we both know they could use a little help.”

Her laugh was light, the kind of sound that made the world seem softer, brighter. She tucked the sprig into her basket, already brimming with herbs she’d gathered for the remedies she was always making.

“I’m glad you came with me,” she said, her voice quieter now, a note of sincerity creeping into her tone. “It’s better when you’re here. Everything is.”