Chapter 3 — Sophie’s Secret Sanctuary

Mia

The Whitmore Estate stretched endlessly before Mia as she wandered its carefully manicured paths, clipboard in hand, her low heels clicking against the stone. Every corner of the grounds seemed curated to perfection—hedges trimmed with surgical precision, flowerbeds arranged in symmetrical bursts of color. Yet, somehow, it all felt sterile, as if the estate wore its grandeur like a fortress, keeping the world at bay.

Mia paused, her pen tapping against the clipboard filled with notes and sketches for the gala. She’d spent hours pacing the grounds, searching for inspiration to infuse the event with life and warmth. The estate’s rigid elegance mirrored its owner all too well—cold, unyielding, and far too controlled. She frowned, the faint ache of frustration building behind her temples. How could she design something meaningful in a space so devoid of heart?

She adjusted the strap of her leather satchel and let out a slow breath, her thoughts drifting to Nick Whitmore. The man was as infuriating as he was enigmatic. Every interaction felt like scaling an invisible wall, as though he were a fortress himself. He’d probably recoil in horror if she dared suggest something as whimsical as wildflowers or fairy lights. The thought almost made her smile.

As she rounded a corner, a break in the estate’s meticulous design caught her attention—a patch of untamed greenery tucked away behind a cluster of towering sycamores. She hesitated, drawn by the faint sense of rebellion it exuded. The break in the hedge was subtle, almost as if it were hiding something. A gentle breeze carried the earthy scent of damp soil and blooming flowers, coaxing her forward.

Pushing through the narrow opening, Mia stepped into another world. Wildflowers spilled across the path in a riot of color, their petals swaying gently in the breeze. Ivy climbed the rough bark of an ancient oak tree that stood sentinel at the garden’s center, its sprawling branches casting dappled shadows across the soft grass. A weathered wooden bench sat beneath the tree, slightly crooked as if it had grown weary of standing too long. The air buzzed with life—birds chirping, leaves rustling, the faint hum of bees weaving through the blooms.

Mia stopped, momentarily awestruck by the garden’s untamed beauty. It was a stark contrast to the rest of the estate, as though this little corner had escaped the gardeners’ relentless control. Here, everything felt alive and free. She brushed her fingers against the petals of a wildflower as she stepped further in, a strange sense of calm washing over her. The chaos of the garden was refreshing, like a quiet rebellion against the estate’s suffocating order.

Then she saw Sophie.

The child sat cross-legged in the grass, a notebook balanced on her knees, her curly light brown hair catching the sunlight as she sketched. Her head was bent in concentration, her tongue poking out slightly as her hand moved across the page. She seemed utterly absorbed in her work, a picture of unguarded creativity.

Mia hesitated, unsure whether to interrupt. This felt like a private moment, a glimpse into Sophie’s world. Before she could decide, Sophie glanced up and saw her. The girl’s blue eyes lit up with recognition.

“Mia!” Sophie exclaimed, her face breaking into a wide, freckled smile. “You found it!”

“Found what?” Mia asked, stepping closer and lowering herself onto the edge of the bench, careful not to disturb the scene.

“My secret garden,” Sophie said proudly, gesturing around her. “This is my favorite place. The gardeners don’t come here because Daddy says it’s too messy, but I like it messy. It’s more fun this way.”

Mia’s lips curved into a soft smile. “It’s wonderful, Sophie. It feels like a little world all your own.”

Sophie nodded emphatically. “It is! I come here all the time. It’s where I do my best thinking.” She held up her notebook, bubbling with excitement. “Do you want to see?”

“I’d love to,” Mia replied, leaning in as Sophie flipped through the pages. The notebook was filled with colorful sketches—flowers with faces, animals wearing tiny hats, and what looked like the Whitmore Estate transformed into a fairytale castle.

“These are amazing,” Mia said, genuine admiration in her voice. “You’re very talented, Sophie.”

“Thanks!” Sophie beamed, then her expression softened. “Mommy used to draw with me here. She loved this garden too.”

Mia’s chest tightened at the mention of Sophie’s mother. She thought of her own mother, of their quiet moments together when the world felt too harsh. “That’s a beautiful memory,” she said gently. “It must make this place feel very special.”

Sophie nodded, her voice quieter now. “It does.” She set her notebook aside and reached under the bench, pulling out a small wooden box with a hand-painted lid. Bright flowers and stars adorned its surface, the paint slightly chipped but still vibrant.

“This is my time capsule,” Sophie explained, opening the box to reveal its contents. Inside were photographs, small trinkets, and folded pieces of paper. “I put things in here that remind me of Mommy. That way, I won’t forget.”

Mia swallowed hard, her throat tight. Each item in the box was clearly chosen with care, a testament to Sophie’s love and longing. “That’s a lovely idea,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

Sophie picked up a photograph of a young woman with curly hair and bright eyes, her smile warm and full of life. “This is Mommy,” she said, holding the photo out to Mia. “Do you think she’d like the gala? I bet she’d love the flowers! Right?”

Mia took the photo gently, studying the woman who had left such a lasting impression on her daughter. “I think she’d love it,” she said sincerely. “And I think she’d be very proud of you.”

Sophie’s smile returned, though it wavered slightly. “I hope so. Daddy doesn’t talk about her much anymore. I think it makes him sad.”

Mia hesitated, unsure how much to say. “Sometimes people hold onto memories in their own way,” she said softly. “But that doesn’t mean they’ve forgotten.”

Sophie tilted her head, considering Mia’s words. Then she brightened. “Do you want to add something to the time capsule?” she asked eagerly, holding the box out.

Mia blinked, surprised. “Oh, I don’t know if I have anything…”

“It doesn’t have to be big,” Sophie insisted. “It can be something small, like a wish or a memory.”

Mia thought for a moment, then reached into her satchel and pulled out a small, pressed daisy. It was from a bouquet Claire had given her when she started her business, a reminder of her leap of faith. “This flower reminds me of new beginnings,” she said as she placed it in the box. “It’s about trusting that even small things can grow into something beautiful.”

Sophie nodded seriously, carefully arranging the flower among her other treasures. “I like that,” she said, as though Mia’s words carried great wisdom.

As Sophie closed the box and tucked it back under the bench, Mia felt a quiet peace settle over her. The wild little sanctuary felt like a haven, untouched by the estate’s cold perfection. For the first time since her arrival, she felt… at home.

“What’s this?” Sophie suddenly asked, holding up a shiny object she’d found in the grass.

Mia leaned closer, recognizing it immediately. It was one of Nick’s cufflinks, the tiny embedded compass catching the sunlight. “That’s your dad’s,” Mia said, her brow furrowing. “He must have dropped it.”

Sophie turned it over in her hands, watching the needle waver. “Can I keep it? Just for a little while?”

Mia hesitated, then nodded. “I think that’s okay. But make sure to give it back to him later, okay?”

Sophie grinned, slipping the cufflink into her pocket. “Okay.”

As they sat together in the garden, sunlight filtering through the oak tree’s branches, Mia felt something shift. For all the estate’s rigid order, this wild little sanctuary held something real—something alive. And in Sophie’s wide blue eyes, Mia caught a glimpse of hope, a reminder that even in the most carefully controlled spaces, life had a way of breaking through.