Masuk✨️✨️✨️
Her fingers tapped lightly against the edge of her plate, forgotten food growing cold in front of her. Nathan noticed her actions immediately. He knew his sister. He knew how arrogant and stubborn she could be. He had grown up with her. He had fought with her. He had defended her. And today… After everything that had happened… He just hoped she wouldn’t cause any more trouble. “Grace,” Nathan called gently, setting his chopsticks down. “What’s bothering you?” The table quieted slightly. Grace didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze slowly shifted toward Elara. Elara stiffened instinctively. Lucian’s hand froze mid-air and frowned. His protective instinct kicked in. The air thickened as everyone braced themselves. Because if there was one thing everyone knew… It was that Grace was proud. Fiercely proud and painfully stubborn. She never admitted she was wrong. Never! But to everyone’s shock... Grace pushed her chair back slightly. She stood up and looked at Elara earnestly
Lunch was served after a while. The dining room, which had earlier been suffocating with accusations, fear, and almost irreversible regret, now carried the rich aroma of freshly prepared dishes, steaming rice, tender meat glazed in sauce, and fragrant herbs rising into the air like silent offerings of gratitude. The family gathered at the dining table as they ate and chatted. But it wasn’t the same kind of chatter as before. It was softer. A little careful. A little embarrassed. A little grateful. Nathan sat at the head of the table, the place he had occupied for decades as the successor of the family. He sat there as a man who had nearly died. As a man who had almost left his family behind. Nathan ate to his fullest. Not because the food was exceptionally good, though it was. Not because he was starving, though he hadn’t eaten all day. He ate because he could. Because he was alive. Because his lungs were still filling with air. Because his heart was still beating stead
Up the stairs they went. Lucian didn't stop until they were far enough from the living room that the sounds of groaning and shouting faded into faint echoes. He pushed open their bedroom door with his foot and stepped inside. The moment the door shut behind them, Elara smacked his chest lightly. "You're impossible!" she hissed, still half-laughing. "Put me down!" Lucian looked down at her calmly. "You were about to overwork yourself." "It was cooking lunch! What do you mean by overworking myself?" "You were nervous," Lucian stated matter-of-factly. Elara froze. She was indeed nervous. But not in a bad way. He walked to the bed and gently placed her down, but he didn't step away. "You're trying too hard," he said quietly. Her smile softened. "I just want them to like me. I don't want them to use what I did with your father's food against me forever." "They do. You don't need to try harder." Lucian said. "I want them to trust me." She sighed. "They will. And if they don'
The whole issue calmed down after Nathan assured everyone that he was okay.Nathan stood in the center of the living room, one hand still braced against the edge of the table as if he needed the support, his expression firm but gentle.“I’m fine,” he repeated, this time slower, louder, making sure every single sibling heard him clearly. “I said I’m fine. Stop looking at me like I’m about to collapse.”His siblings exchanged uneasy glances.Grace sniffed loudly, wiping her nose with the back of her hand, her eyes still red from crying. Edward stood tall and composed as always, but even he had not hidden the panic in his eyes earlier.“I’m serious,” Nathan added, softer now. “It was just a scare. See? Aren't I standing here instead of that plane crash? Stop worrying!”A long silence followed.Then one by one, his siblings began to leave, after telling him they would be back to check up on him.They left not because they weren’t worried, but because Nathan had always been the steady pil
Grandma Hale leaned her forehead gently against Elara’s. “Never apologize for that,” she whispered. “Never.” When the older woman finally stepped back, the room seemed to shift. Not physically but emotionally. The air around Elara felt different now. The space parted slightly to let her move. She could feel their eyes on her. Shock, gratitude, and awe. Something almost reverent. They were seeing her differently. Not just as Lucian’s wife. Not just as the newest addition to the family. But as the woman who had stood between death and one of their own, and refused to move. Lucian had remained near the door throughout it all. He looked at his father, who was alive and breathing. He looked at his grandmother, who had not wept in public since the day his grandfather died. He looked at his siblings, undone in ways he had never seen. He looked at the television screen, still showing the wreckage of twisted metal and smoke. And then he looked at her... His wife, and his chest t
Edward’s fingers grabbed his little brother's hand and tightened around Nathan’s wrist as though he feared that if he loosened his grip even slightly, the man would vanish, like smoke, like a ghost, like the terrible image still replaying on the television screen behind them.“I'm glad, I'm glad you are alive. I'm glad you are still here," he tried not to choke on his words, though the edge in his voice had dulled into something fragile, something desperate.The room seemed to inhale and forget how to exhale.Nathan didn’t answer immediately. His gaze shifted, slowly, and deliberately past Edward.Past the trembling figures of his children.Toward the doorway... Toward her.She stood there like a quiet shadow on the edge of disaster.Elara.She hadn’t screamed. Hadn’t collapsed. Hadn’t fought her way to the center of the chaos.She had simply stood there. Shaking like a leaf. Not with hysteria or panic.But with the aftermath of terror, and the overwhelming flood of relief that follow







