Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Whispers of my heart: Kabanata 141 - Kabanata 150

The glass doors of The Grove Collective closed behind the police car, but the silence it left behind didn’t last a second.It shattered.Like a window hit by a stone.One moment, the office was stunned — frozen in disbelief, employees staring at the empty space where Claire Vance had stood in handcuffs.The next?Chaos.“Did that just happen?”“She was arrested for what?”“Claire? Claire? The one who brought tea to Marcus when he had a migraine?”No one could believe it.And yet — the proof was in the police report.The officers hadn’t come with noise.They’d come with purpose.With a warrant.With evidence.And now, as the building buzzed, the rumors began — not in whispers.In waves.At the break room, three junior designers huddled around a tablet, scrolling through the internal announcement that had just been sent:"Due to a legal matter involving a current employee, we are cooperating fully with law enforcement. No further details can be shared at this time."“That’s not ‘a legal

The courtroom had been quiet.Tense.Still.Holding its breath.But the moment the judge said, “The court has reviewed all evidence, including psychological evaluation, financial records, and recorded testimony…” — the air changed.Something was coming.And when the judge continued — “It is the finding of this court that Claire Vance is not suffering from a temporary emotional disturbance, but exhibits clear traits of antisocial personality disorder, commonly known as psychopathy…” — the room erupted.Not in cheers.In shock.A gasp tore through the gallery like wind through dry leaves.Reporters scrambled for pens.Sophia’s roommates — Mira, Zara, Rose, and Claire — sat bolt upright.Mira: “She’s a psychopath? Like, full-on, movie-level?”Zara: “I told you! No one smiles that much without an agenda!”Rose, deadpan: “She brought cupcakes every Friday. That’s not kindness. That’s grooming.”The judge raised a hand.Silence returned.And then came the bombshell.“This is not Ms. Vance’s

Graduation day dawned in gold.Not with thunder.Not with drama.But with quiet light — soft, warm, spilling over the campus like a blessing.The plaza was transformed.Rows of white chairs stretched across the lawn, flanked by tall banners bearing the university crest. A stage stood at the center, draped in navy and silver. Strings of lights still hung from the trees — leftovers from the night before’s celebration — flickering gently in the morning breeze.And everywhere — families.Parents with cameras.Siblings with balloons.Friends in formal wear, laughing, hugging, crying before the day had even begun.For Sophia and her roommates, it wasn’t just an end.It was a return.To the girl who had walked these paths in silence.To the nights of panic, of tears, of cramming under fairy lights.To the laughter that had carried them through every storm.And now?Now they were here.On the edge of everything.They met at the dorm one last time.No panic.No last-minute notes.Just stillnes

Months later, as the wedding preparations intensified for the two love birds,Elena was getting ready to put to bed.The call came at 3:17 a.m.Not with panic.With calm.Elena’s voice, steady but firm, through the phone:“Sophia. It’s time.”And just like that, the world shifted.Sophia was out the door in three minutes — shoes half-laced, jacket on backward, phone clutched like a lifeline.She called Nathan.He answered mid-yawn. “What? Is everything—?”“They’re coming.”Silence.Then — chaos.Twenty minutes later, Nathan burst into the hospital maternity wing wearing mismatched socks, a sweater inside-out, and carrying a duffel bag that immediately spilled its contents in the waiting room.Diapers.A onesie that said “I’m the Boss”.A stuffed raccoon.A bottle warmer.And, inexplicably, a bag of gummy worms.He stared at the mess. “I told myself to pack last night.”Sophia, already calm beside Elena’s room, handed him a coffee. “You packed like Mira planned your life.”He groaned.

The oak grove held its breath.Not a leaf stirred.Not a bird sang.Even the wind paused — as if the world itself knew: something sacred was about to happen.Sunlight spilled through the ancient branches like liquid gold, painting the aisle in soft, trembling light. Petals of white roses and lavender were scattered along the path, crushed gently beneath the first step of a woman who had waited not just days, not just years — but lifetimes — for this moment.And there she stood.Sophia.In a gown of ivory silk, so delicate it looked spun from moonlight.The lace on her back fastened with tiny pearl buttons — each one a promise.Her veil, edged with silver thread, fluttered like a whisper against her hair.In her hands, a bouquet of wild roses, lavender, and a single sprig of cherry blossom — his favorite, because he had once said, “It reminds me of you. Soft. Strong. Unforgettable.”She didn’t move at first.Just stood at the edge of the grove, heart pounding, breath caught in her throa