Fresh out of trash

"Aron's POV,"

"Thank you, Sara, for such a lovely breakfast." The first bite of the pancakes brought a flood of childhood memories of the mornings when my grandma would make me my favorite breakfast. Since she is so similar to my grandma, I sometimes wonder if she has ever met her.

"Aron, please allow me to use your backyard." She twitched her fingers nervously.

"What are you going to do in the backyard?" I raised my eyebrow at her, curious.

"I’m not sure yet, but I felt tranquil under the oak tree."

Why is she staring so hard at her plate, as though it’s trying to communicate with her?

"All right, you’re free to use my backyard and do whatever you want inside this house, but please don’t try to flee without my permission."

"All right." She nodded and then lost herself in her thoughts.

She possesses a wealth of hidden truths. My understanding of her life is limited to its surface, leaving me unaware of its depths, like the surface of an iceberg. To learn more about her, I must rere