“How could you?” “Because I will not have you hate a memory so precious to you as my father did.” Shock made me pause, my tears drying up as I stared up at him. “What?” “He burned gardens after my mother died. Anything she loved was gone. He shut down the estate and moved us away, locking away every single memory of her, growing cold, bitter, and merciless. Although he said he never did, he forgot about her. He erased her, and I will not let you suffer the same fate. Grieving is another form of love, Dianna. Do not unlove her by burying it. I know it hurts, it's beyond painful, but if you bury
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