One Last Gift Read Online Emily Stone

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 115055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)

When a young woman finds herself lost and at a crossroads, one last gift from her brother just might give her another chance at life and at love in this epic holiday romance from the author of Always, in December

Sometimes the best gifts in life are the ones you don’t expect.

Cassie and Tom lost their parents at a young age and relied on each other–as well as a community of friends–to get through it. Especially Tom’s best friend, Sam, who always made sure Tom and Cassie were surrounded with love. But now, twenty years later, Cassie has lost Tom as well. And in a way, she’s also lost Sam; over the years they’ve drifted apart, and now the man she always had a crush on is someone she doesn’t even recognize anymore.

She’s never felt more alone.

Then she finds an envelope with her name on it, written in Tom’s terrible handwriting, and she knows immediately what it is. It’s the first clue in the Christmas scavenger hunt Tom made for her every year; he’d promised her for months that this year’s would be the grandest one yet. At first, she’s too scared to open it–what if she can’t figure out the clues without his help? Or what if she does figure them all out, and her last connection to Tom is gone?

Tom’s clues set Cassie on a heart-wrenching and beautiful journey that will change her life–if she lets them. And as she travels from London to the Welsh mountains to the French countryside, she reconnects with old friends, rekindles a lost love, and most importantly, rediscovers herself. But once she’s solved the final clue, will she be brave enough to accept the gift her brother has given her–and the love it’s led her to?



‘There is a path from me to you that I am constantly looking for.’



Cassie woke while it was still dark, her duvet pulled halfway over her head to hide from the cold. For a moment she frowned into the blackness, groggy from sleep, confused as to what had woken her. Then there was a loud snore from the bed next to hers. She gave the sleeping mass that was her brother a sideways look. He was always snoring, and it was so annoying; she’d told him to lie on his side about a million times, because her best friend’s mum was a doctor and she’d once said that helped. Cassie sighed into her pillow. Maybe if he kept up the snoring, she’d get brave enough to sleep on her own at night and he could sleep in his own room, across the corridor, under the glowing stars he’d stuck to the ceiling. But she hadn’t yet worked up the courage, not since Mum and Dad died, nearly two years ago.

Tom gave another snore, making Cassie start. It was only then that she realised, and her heart gave a little leap as she threw her duvet off and sat straight up in bed. It was Christmas Day. It was Christmas! How had she forgotten, even for a moment?

Ignoring the chilly air, Cassie stepped down from her bed, careful not to wake Tom, and padded to the window. Maybe there would be snow outside, even though Aunty Claire said it never really snowed on Christmas Day. She moved the curtains aside and peered down into her aunt’s little garden. It was too dark to see anything at all, the world outside still sleeping.

She turned back to the beds, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. There were no stockings at the foot of the bed because Aunty Claire didn’t believe in stockings. Tom had found out Santa wasn’t real years ago, and so Claire had decided she didn’t want to carry on the ‘charade’ (Cassie wasn’t entirely sure what a ‘charade’ was, but Tom had told her it meant acting), even though their parents used to do it every year. The excitement of the day dulled a little in Cassie’s chest as she thought about her mum and dad, and the fact that they wouldn’t be here to open presents with or make marshmallows on toast for breakfast – a Christmas tradition Aunty Claire hadn’t let them continue. She thought about waking Tom up. He’d be ok with it, and they could sneak downstairs and find some chocolate together, before Claire got up. She was pretty sure there were chocolate presents somewhere, wrapped in foil. One of their neighbours had dropped them round – Cassie couldn’t remember her name, but she was really old and smelt a bit like cocoa and lavender mixed together, and she’d said the chocolates had to be hung on the tree. And there was a tree, even though Claire almost hadn’t got one, because Cassie had cried when Claire had said that maybe they shouldn’t have one this year and even Tom had looked sad and so she’d given in.