Chapter 8 - THE MORNING AFTER
The morning sun broke through the storm clouds, casting a warm, golden glow across the vast lawns of the Blackwood estate.
Inside the mansion, the chaos of the previous night had been entirely scrubbed away. The broken cake was gone. The police tape was removed. The lingering shadow of Beatrice Blackwood’s tyranny seemed to have evaporated with the rain.
Lily woke up to the feeling of something incredibly soft against her cheek.
She blinked her eyes open. For a terrifying second, she thought she was back in the damp, drafty basement she had shared with Martha in the slums. She panicked, sitting up quickly.
But she wasn’t in a basement.
She was sitting in a massive, four-poster bed draped in pink silk canopy curtains. The mattress was thicker than anything she had ever slept on. A fire crackled warmly in the marble hearth across the room.
And sleeping right beside her, snoring softly into a velvet pillow, was Amelia.
Lily let out a long, shuddering breath. It wasn’t a dream. It was real.
She slipped out of bed, her bare feet sinking into the plush white carpet. Someone had dressed her in a clean, soft pair of silk pajamas during the night. She walked over to the massive bay window and looked out at the sprawling gardens below.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” a soft voice asked.
Lily turned around. Victoria was standing in the doorway, holding a silver tray with two mugs of hot chocolate. She was wearing comfortable sweatpants and a messy bun, looking nothing like the stressed, poised socialite from the party. She just looked like a mom.
“It’s really big,” Lily said quietly, looking back out the window. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much green before.”
Victoria walked over, setting the tray on a small table. She knelt down next to Lily, taking the girl’s small, rough hand in hers.
“You never have to be cold again, Lily,” Victoria whispered, her eyes filling with fresh tears. “You never have to be hungry. You never have to be scared. I swear to you on my life, no one will ever take you from me again.”
Lily looked at the woman who had birthed her. The woman who had been poisoned, lied to, and broken, yet still had so much love left to give.
Lily leaned forward and hugged her. It was stiff at first—she wasn’t used to physical affection—but then she melted into the embrace, resting her chin on Victoria’s shoulder.
“I know,” Lily whispered.
“Mom?” a sleepy voice mumbled from the bed.
Amelia rubbed her eyes, sitting up. When she saw Victoria and Lily hugging, a massive, genuine smile broke across her face. She threw the blankets off and ran over, tackling them both into a messy, laughing pile on the floor.
For the first time in twelve years, the room echoed with the sound of pure, unadulterated joy.
Later that afternoon, Daniel called a family meeting in the drawing room.
He looked exhausted. He had spent the entire night on the phone with the estate lawyers, the police, and the board of directors. But despite the dark circles under his eyes, he looked lighter. The invisible weight he had carried for over a decade was finally gone.
“Your grandmother is in federal custody,” Daniel told the girls, sitting on the edge of the coffee table so he was at their eye level. “She was denied bail. The estate lawyers have completely frozen her assets. She will never step foot on this property, or anywhere near our family, ever again.”
Amelia breathed a sigh of relief, grabbing Lily’s hand.
“What about Martha?” Lily asked quietly, looking down at her lap. “The woman who raised me. She took the money from Beatrice. Does she… does she get in trouble?”
Daniel sighed softly. “Martha passed away three months ago, sweetheart. But even if she were here, I wouldn’t punish her. She made a terrible mistake taking the money, but she kept you alive. She gave you the rattle, and she made sure you found your way back to us. We will ensure she gets a proper, beautiful headstone in the city cemetery.”
Lily nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek. Daniel reached out and wiped it away with his thumb.
“Now,” Daniel said, a slow, playful smile spreading across his face. “We have one final piece of business to attend to.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out two small, velvet jewelry boxes.
He handed one to Amelia, and one to Lily.
“Open them,” Victoria encouraged, standing behind her husband.
The girls snapped the boxes open at the exact same time.
Inside were two matching, brilliant gold lockets on delicate chains.
“Look inside,” Daniel said.
Lily popped the clasp of her locket. Inside, there wasn’t a picture of a saint, or a hidden photograph of a kidnapper. It was a tiny, perfectly painted portrait of Amelia.
May you like
Amelia opened hers. Inside was a portrait of Lily.
“So you always have each other,” Daniel whispered, his voice cracking. “No matter what.”
