Semua Bab WHERE LIGHT MEETS DARK: Bab 91 - Bab 100

There was a sweet scent of lavender and stale leather. Walking inside was to enter into a world of memory that the tenant had actively sought to forget. Lily folded into the end of a straight chair, her clenched tightly into her lap fingers. The rigidity with which she was clutching her fingers caused her knuckles to become pale. The corner hummed a gentle tick of a sound. A metronome. A tick that tolled within her as a challenge. A challenge to speak. To break the silence.She sat in her office across from Lily, as calm as a summer day. She wasn't old, but looked old, no. She did, however, have eyes that had witnessed it all. They were fixed on Lily with no suspicion, no disdain, but only impatience. As if to wait for her to draw breath before unspooling what she had stored inside.Dr. Valez leaned forward, just slightly. "Do you mind keeping your mouth shut for a bit longer," she said, talking slowly, "or do you need to tell me what you're thinking?"Lily's mouth opened. No noises

But faith is an ephemeral quality. It is a candle lit in a storm of untrammelled air, waiting to be extinguished the moment there is darkness within.She slept better that night than she had in months. No darkness quiet. No sudden heat flash, no clatter of high heels thrumming in her bones. Only quiet. Terrible, holy quiet. And when she awoke, the sun was already bright in the windows, warm and gentle. Her body was leaden, but not with fear—simply with being human.Vandaulf rolled over beside her, his eyes snapping open. His voice was gravel and fire. "Morning."Lily blinked at him, letting the quiet fall before she breathed, "Still me."He wrapped his hand tight around hers, interlacing their fingers. "I know."They sat in silence for a while. Breathing. Holding. Waiting to see if the shadows stirred.They didn't.After breakfast—a peaceful, fluffy session with Helena phoning in to drop over tea and today's hottest cuttings from the paper (none of which Lily actually read)—it was tim

The courthouse loomed like a monolith, its towering shadow sweeping over the cluster of reporters spilling onto its steps. Flashbulbs popped. Microphones pushed their way forward like swords. Voices clashed in argument."Is it true Brigs Carlston planned the James family crash?""Ms. James! Will you testify?""Do you think justice will now be served?Lily was at the rear of the tinted windows of the bulletproof vehicle, her heart pounding. The burden of a thousand unsaid things pressed in her chest like concrete. She hadn't dressed in black, not today—today she'd dressed in white. Not because she forgave. But because she had to be heard."Do not tell anyone anything," Brenna warned, clutching her hand in a tight grip. "Let them prattle. What goes on here is all that counts."Vandaulf, sitting across from them, was a tempest contained in thin threads. Jaw clenched, fists clenched in his lap. "I want him to look into your eyes when the truth emerges."The car stopped. The door opened.Li

The sun had stretched long shadows on the steps of the courthouse in the morning, gold-glazing the sandstone walls in a light too gentle for the day to come. A wave of reporters waited below, microphones poised like weapons, their voices a rising hum of anticipation. Cameras flashed simultaneously, as if thousands of eyes eager to devour the moment.Behind the courtroom doors, Lily remained trapped, back stiff but palms sweaty. Varnished wood and paper's aroma still lingered behind the halls of justice behind her, but outside—it was pandemonium.She turned the microphone attached to her blouse, hands shaking."Ready?" Vandaulf's voice whispered by her side, steady like an anchor, blazing like the sun she hardly remembered loving.She swallowed hard. "As ready as I'll ever be grandma.""Don't let them shake you Lily," Brenna said over her shoulder, her voice weighed down by years of pain and resilience. "Tell your truth. That's all that matters."The massive doors creaked as they opene

The gates of the James estate slowly swung open, leading to the curved, winding driveway lined with cypress trees that reached as high as the sky. The morning sun filtered through their leaves, casting golden spangles on the pavement. It was the same. And nothing was the same.Lily stepped out of the dark car, the gravel beneath her boots grinding. Her heart pounded in her chest, loaded with memory and significance. Vandaulf stood behind her in silence, letting her take it all in. It was sixteen years ago.The house stood like a sleeping giant—regal, proud, un touched since the world shattered. Ivy crawled up its stone front, and several of the windows were shrouded in mist, but it was still beautiful. Still hers.Brenna moved out of her way, the wind whipping clumps of her silver hair. "Your father designed every aspect of this house. Every beam, every tile, every windowpane. he wanted it to last for generations."Lily felt a wave of emotions. Tears filled her eyes as she tried to s