The wind carried the scent of salt from the shore, blending with the soft fragrance of roses in the garden. Beyond the convent's iron gates, the waves whispered against the rocks, as if keeping secrets of their own. She had always found comfort in quiet places-where prayers were whispered, where flowers swayed with the wind, where the ocean never spoke too loudly. But peace never lasted, not for someone who had learned that trust could break like glass. And he came like a storm on the horizon, like a warning she didn't want to understand. He was danger wrapped in something strangely familiar. She should have stayed away. But something deeper tied them together, something neither of them could name. There were things buried in the past, truths hidden beneath silence. Some wounds never truly healed. Some secrets never stayed buried.