Chapter 160: What Remains

The morning arrived quietly.

Light filtered through the tall windows of the Crosswell residence with none of the drama society expected from their lives. No announcements. No urgent messages. No staff bustling with instructions. Just pale gold light settling across polished floors and lingering where two cups of tea steamed on a small table.

Lillian stood near the window, wrapped in a soft robe she had not chosen but had learned to inhabit. The gardens beyond Celestine Heights were still damp from the night storm. Leaves glistened. Paths curved gently, unchanged by wind or rain.

She realized, distantly, that she no longer felt like a guest.

Behind her, Nathaniel adjusted his cufflinks with deliberate care. He had slept little, though not from work. The night had altered something he