Chapter 12
Isabella returned that night.
Not because the danger was gone.
Because Lucy knew.
That changed the risk for her.
She arrived through the kitchen entrance wearing a plain coat and carrying nothing.
Emma saw her first.
I stayed where I was.
So did Isabella.
Across the room.
Two years between us.
Lucy ran past both bodyguards before anyone could stop her.
“Mom!”
Isabella dropped to her knees.
Lucy hit her so hard they both nearly fell.
That was the reunion.
No speech.
No music.
No dramatic explanation.
Just a child refusing to let go.
I turned away.
Not because I could not watch.
Because the moment belonged to them before it belonged to me.
When Lucy finally loosened her grip, Isabella looked at me.
I walked closer.
Stopped several feet away.
“I’m sorry.”
She closed her eyes.
“For what?”
Everything would have been easier.
So I chose one thing.
“For believing the story faster than I questioned the men telling it.”
Her eyes filled.
“That’s fair.”
Not forgiveness.
Fair.
Good.
Then she held out her hand.
I looked at it.
For a second, I thought she wanted me.
She wanted the urn key.
I almost laughed.
I gave it to her.
She walked to the memorial room, opened the silver urn, and looked at the ashes that carried her name for two years.
Then she said:
“Get rid of this.”
I nodded.
May you like
No ceremony.
Some symbols do not deserve preserving.
