---- Chapter 8 | carried the box downstairs and out to the large trash bins by the side of the garage. With a sense of finality, | tipped the contents in. The small bird, the book, the bracelet, all disappeared amongst the household refuse. That night, for the first time since returning, | slept soundly, deeply. When | woke, the sun was high. Outside my bedroom door sat the cardboard box. Its contents - the bird, the book, the bracelet - were neatly repacked inside. *Marcus? He retrieved them?* A wave of confusion, then a strange sort of weariness, washed over me. Chloe passed by my open door, humming. She spotted the box. "Ooh, what's this?" she chirped, peering inside."Treasure trove?" She rummaged through it, her eyes lighting up. "This little Kachina doll is cute! | love it! And this silver bracelet is divine! Can | have them, Ellie? Since you were throwing them out?" She picked out several items, holding them up, admiring them. | looked at the box, at the items he had once given me with care, now pawed over by Chloe. ---- Numbly, | pushed the box towards her with my foot. "Take it all. | don't want it." Marcus appeared in the hallway, drawn by Chloe's exclamations. He saw Chloe holding the bracelet, saw the box at her feet. His face was like thunder. A muscle jumped in his jaw. | ignored his dark stare, turned, and went back into my room, closing the door. Let him be angry. It didn't matter anymore. In the days that followed, Marcus and Chloe became even more publicly affectionate. Constant hand-holding, soft murmurs, shared smiles. As if to prove something to me, or to himself. | stayed in my room as much as possible, reading, sketching, talking to David on the phone. Avoiding them. Then came Chloe's birthday. Marcus threw a lavish party for her at the villa. The garden was strung with fairy lights, a jazz trio played softly, champagne flowed. Dozens of Scottsdale's elite were there. During a lull in the music, Marcus tapped a champagne flute for attention. He smiled at Chloe, a tender, loving smile that made my stomach clench with a distant, phantom pain. He produced a small, velvet box. "Happy birthday, my love," he said, his voice carrying in the suddenly quiet garden. He opened the box. ---- A huge diamond ring glittered on a bed of satin. An engagement ring. "Chloe Davenport," Marcus declared, his voice full of emotion, "will you marry me?" Chloe gasped, tears welling in her eyes. "Oh, Marcus! Yes! Yes, of course, I'll marry you!" He slipped the ring onto her finger. The crowd applauded, cheered. It was a perfect, romantic scene. Later, Chloe, flushed with triumph and champagne, sought me out. She held up her hand, the diamond flashing ostentatiously. "Isn't it beautiful, Ellie? Marcus has such exquisite taste." Then, her eyes narrowed, a malicious glint appearing. "So, Ellie. What are you getting me for my birthday? And for our engagement? Surely you have a gift for your future... well, for Marcus's future wife." Her tone was deliberately provocative. | met her gaze calmly. | reached into my pocket and pulled out a small, intricately carved wooden box. I'd found it tucked away in my luggage, a relic from my past. "Happy birthday, Chloe," | said. "And congratulations on your engagement." | handed her the box. Inside, nestled on a bed of faded silk, was a single, perfect, dried desert bloom. A prickly pear flower | had pressed years ---- ago. | remembered finding it with Marcus on a hike in the McDowell Sonoran Preserve. | was perhaps fifteen. He'd been explaining the resilience of desert plants. "This flower," he'd said, pointing to a vibrant magenta bloom on a cactus, "it's beautiful, but tough. It survives in the harshest conditions. You should be like that, Ellie. Strong. Resilient." Later, I'd pressed it, thinking one day | might give it to someone special. Or perhaps, foolishly, to his future wife, as a symbol of something | couldn't yet articulate. A shared memory. A piece of him. Now, | was giving it to Chloe. "It's a desert flower," | said. "To remind you of Arizona. And resilience." Marcus had come to stand beside Chloe. He looked into the box, saw the pressed flower. His face went pale. His eyes, when they met mine, were wide with shock, then a dawning, terrible understanding. He knew that flower. He knew what it represented. A shared moment, a piece of advice, a symbol of a bond he had tried to sever. "It's... lovely," Chloe said, though she looked confused, clearly not understanding its significance. "| thought you'd appreciate it," | said to Marcus, my voice soft but clear. "It was always meant for your bride." | turned and walked away, leaving them standing there, the ---- small wooden box a silent testament between them. His stunned, anguished gaze followed me until | disappeared into the house. Title: A Princess? No! I'm the Female General! In "A Princess? No! I'm the Female General!" by CrushReel, Adela Taylor, a noble family's daughter, disguises herself as her brother to secure their Duke title by joining the army. Despite facing obstacles, she achieves remarkable success. However, upon her triumphant return, her brother betrays her, setting off a chain of events that will test her resolve and reveal hidden truths. This captivating novel delves into themes of secrets, reincarnation, revenge, murder, and drama. Adela's journey from deception to betrayal is filled with intrigue and suspense as she navigates through a world where power dynamics and family loyalties collide. What sets this story apart is its strong female lead who defies expectations and challenges societal norms in a quest for justice and redemption. Experience the riveting tale of Adela Taylor online at CrushReel and witness the transformation of a princess into a formidable female general.