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CHAPTER 81 - THE FUNERAL
publish date:
2026-04-29 22:01:49Eliza's POV
The chapel was small, nestled in the same valley as the nursing home. Gray stone, ivy climbing the walls, a bell tower that hadn't rung in years. I stood at the back, watching the few mourners filter in nurses, a priest, a woman I didn't recognize who kept wiping her eyes. Chloe was at the front, alone. She'd asked me to sit with her. I'd said yes. But when I saw her there, shoulders bent, hands folded, I couldn't move. A
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IN LOVE WITH HIS ENEMY CHAPTER 81 - THE FUNERAL
Eliza's POV The chapel was small, nestled in the same valley as the nursing home. Gray stone, ivy climbing the walls, a bell tower that hadn't rung in years. I stood at the back, watching the few mourners filter in nurses, a priest, a woman I didn't recognize who kept wiping her eyes. Chloe was at the front, alone. She'd asked me to sit with her. I'd said yes. But when I saw her there, shoulders bent, hands folded, I couldn't move. Adam touched my back. "She needs you." "I know." "Then go." I walked down the aisle. Sat beside my sister. She didn't look at me. But her hand found mine. The Service The priest spoke words I didn't hear. Something about forgiveness, redemption, the mercy of God. Margaret had asked for a small service, no eulogy, no fuss. Just the words and the silence and the closing of a life that had been broken from
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IN LOVE WITH HIS ENEMY CHAPTER 79
Eliza's POVTen years.A decade since I'd walked out of Scott's office and into Adam's car. A decade of war and peace, of loss and rebuilding, of watching Clara grow from a baby into a young woman who looked at the world with her father's steady eyes and my stubborn chin.Clara's House had become something I never imagined. Safe houses in seven states. A legal network that had helped thousands of women. A job training program that had launched careers. The garden where Clara had planted her first tree was now a national landmark, visited by women who came from everywhere to sit beneath its branches and feel hope.I stood at the gate, watching the sun rise, and felt nothing but peace.The VisitorShe arrived at noon.I didn't recognize her at first. Older. Grayer. Lines on her face that hadn't been there before. But the eyes were the same sharp, watchful, always calculating.Chloe.She stood at
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Eliza's POVFive years later.Clara's House had grown.What started as a small shelter in my mother's memory had become a network—safe houses across three states, a legal fund for women fighting for custody, a job training program that had placed hundreds of survivors into careers. The garden where Clara had planted her first tree was now a sprawling sanctuary, full of flowers and benches and paths that wound through quiet corners.I stood at the entrance of the main building, watching the morning light catch the plaque on the wall.Clara Sterling — She dreamed of a place where women could start again. Her daughter made it real.My mother's photograph hung beside it. Young. Hopeful. The same face I saw in the mirror every day."Mom?"I turned. Clara was fifteen now, tall and steady, with Adam's eyes and my stubborn chin. She held a paper crane in her hand—the same kind she'd been folding since she was three
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One year later.The garden at Clara's House was in full bloom. Roses my aunt had planted. Lavender Eleanor had started from seed. A tree Clara had helped put in the ground, her small hands patting down the dirt while Adam held the trunk straight.I stood at the edge of it all, a cup of tea in my hands, watching the women gather. Survivors. Every one of them. Women who'd lost everything and found their way here. Women who were learning to stand again.Sarah Chen was there, notebook in hand, writing a follow-up piece on the Circle's fall. Reyes was at the gate, pretending to check her phone, always watching. Some habits never died.Adam found me. Slid his arm around my waist."You're crying.""I'm not crying.""You're crying."I wiped my eyes. "They're happy tears."He kissed my temple. "I know."The SpeechThey asked me to speak.I stood at the front of the garde
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Eliza's POVThe photograph sat on my desk for three days.My mother and my aunt. Young. Laughing. Innocent. A world away from the women they'd become. One dead. One carrying the weight of forty years.I picked it up every morning. Looked at it. Tried to reconcile t
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Eliza's POVI didn't tell Adam about the letter.Not because I wanted to keep secrets. Because I needed to hold it alone first. Just for a little while. Long enough to decide what it meant.Clara's House was real. My mother's dream, built by the sister who'd betray
IN LOVE WITH HIS ENEMY CHAPTER 51
Eliza's POVOne year later.I stood on the balcony of our home—not a safe house, not a temporary shelter, but home—and watched the sun rise over Los Angeles.The city glittered below, waking slowly, full of lives and dreams and stories I'd never know. Somewhere out
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