**Shadows of the Past – By Emma Clarke**
**Chapter 45**
**Seven Years Later**
“Josh, please don’t push the broccoli aside,” a voice called out from the kitchen, where the aromatic scents of breakfast wafted through the air. Althea, her hands busy stirring a pot on the stove, didn’t need to look up to know what was happening. Her little boy was likely performing his usual dance of avoidance with the green vegetables on his plate.
“I don’t like it, Mom,” came the soft protest from her son, his ocean-blue eyes sparkling with defiance. He pouted, his small lips forming a perfect “O” of discontent. “Can I just eat everything else but the broccoli?”
Althea sighed, a sound laced with both patience and a hint of exasperation. She untied her apron, the fabric slipping from her waist, and turned off the stove with a gentle click. With deliberate steps, she approached the kitchen table where Josh sat, his shoulders slumped in resignation over his half-eaten breakfast.
“Joshua Grayson,” she said, her tone firm yet calm, a blend that commanded attention.
“Yes, Mom,” he mumbled, lifting his head slowly, his expression a mix of reluctance and curiosity.
“Do you have any idea how beneficial broccoli is for your health?” she asked, her voice steady, hoping to appeal to his budding sense of logic.
Josh sulked, his brow furrowing as he considered her words. Of course, he was aware of the nutritional value… but that didn’t change his taste buds’ opinion.
“Just try a little bit, sweetie. Don’t leave too much on your plate. Remember what Miss Spencer said? Being too picky with food sets a poor example,” Althea reminded him, her eyes softening as she scooped a spoonful of fluffy rice along with a tiny piece of broccoli, bringing it gently toward his lips.
He scrunched his face in distaste but, after a moment’s hesitation, he chewed the morsel with great reluctance. Althea knew her son well; he was intelligent. If she could provide a reason that resonated with him, he would usually comply.
“Good boy,” she praised, affectionately ruffling his tousled hair. “Next time, I promise to make cheesy broccoli soup. Perhaps that will suit your palate better.”
Josh nodded, a flicker of a smile returning to his face. “As long as there’s not too much broccoli, Mom.”
Outside the window, the morning sun was steadily rising, casting a warm golden hue over their tidy little yard, a vibrant tapestry of flowers and greenery. SunCity may not have boasted the opulence of Migathan, but for Althea, it was a sanctuary. The neighborhood was neat, the people were friendly, and most importantly, no one here knew her past—no one knew she had once been Daven Callister’s wife.
It had been seven long years since she had turned her back on that life—the life she once envisioned as a perfect paradise, only to discover it was a mirage. Just a week after she settled in SunCity, the news of Daven’s marriage to Vanessa had splashed across every major news outlet, a headline that had pierced her heart like a dagger. Yet, she had resolved to rise above it all—for the child growing within her.
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