Todos os capítulos de FALLING FOR MY BROTHER'S RIVAL: Capítulo 91 - Capítulo 100

Sophia’s PovGrace crossed the living room and settled onto the couch between us, opening her sketchbook carefully to a page still rough with pencil marks, the lines not yet inked, though the image itself was already unmistakably moving.“I wanted the book to end with everyone together,” she explained softly, tracing her finger gently along the page. “Not just our family, but all the people the foundation has touched. Fenna, Marcus, Oliver, even the little boy from the signing who lost his brother.”Noah leaned in closer, studying the drawing with quiet admiration. She had sketched a wide, circular gathering, dozens of small figures holding hands, their faces simple but full of warmth, a single translucent figure standing gently at the center, watching over everyone with quiet, steady presence.“It’s beautiful,” I said softly, my throat tightening with emotion. “You’ve captured something really important here.”“I wanted it to feel like the story never really ends,” Grace said. “Like

Sophia’s PovNoah and I settled onto the cool grass beside her, the lake stretching quiet and dark before us, moonlight rippling softly across its surface. “You can ask us anything,” I said gently. “Whatever it is.”Grace wrapped her arms a little tighter around her knees, choosing her words carefully the way she always did before saying something that truly mattered to her. “I’ve been thinking about my birth family,” she said softly. “Not Uncle Mason’s side, or Dad’s side. My actual biological family. I know you’ve told me a little before, but I never really asked much about it.”My chest tightened gently, not with fear, but with the quiet recognition that this moment had been coming eventually, the natural curiosity every adopted child eventually carries about where they came from.“What would you like to know?” Noah asked softly, his voice carrying none of the hesitation I might have expected.“Do you think they’d want to know me?” Grace asked, her voice small and uncertain in a wa

Noah’s PovSophia and I exchanged a careful glance, both of us wanting to make absolutely certain Grace understood the weight of what she was saying. “Are you sure?” I asked gently. “There’s no timeline you have to follow. This can happen whenever feels right.”“I’m sure,” Grace said, her voice steadier than I expected. “I don’t want to keep wondering anymore. I want to know her, even just a little.”We contacted Patricia the following week, carefully explaining Grace’s wishes, and the agency began the delicate process of reaching out to her birth mother, a woman named Renee Castillo, confirming first whether she remained open to contact after so many years.The answer came back within days, warm and immediate. Renee had never stopped hoping for exactly this moment.We arranged the meeting carefully, choosing neutral, comfortable ground, a quiet park near the agency’s office, allowing Grace the freedom to approach the encounter at whatever pace felt right for her. Sophia and I would r

Noah’s PovTyler settled into the chair across from us, his expression carrying the particular thoughtfulness he always brought to conversations he considered genuinely important. “He wants me to consider joining a new advisory committee,” he explained. “Something the national federation is putting together, athletes who’ve balanced elite training with outside commitments, helping shape policy on how young players are supported, not just pushed.”“That sounds like exactly the kind of work that matters to you,” Sophia said, leaning forward with genuine interest.“It would mean traveling occasionally for meetings, working directly with league officials on recommendations,” Tyler continued. “Daniel said they specifically thought of me because of the Balance Initiative. They want someone who actually understands what it’s like from the inside, not just adults making decisions from the outside looking in.”I studied my son carefully, pride swelling steadily as I considered how far he had t

Noah’s PovConstruction on the community center moved steadily through that year, the skeleton of the building rising slowly against the skyline near the arena, and Grace spent countless weekends at the site with a small team of local artists, sketching out the mural that would eventually cover the entire west-facing wall of the main hall.“I want it to start with just two people,” she explained one afternoon, showing Sophia and me her latest draft spread across the hood of the car. “Not Tyler, not Victor, not anything about the danger. I want it to start with a storm, and two strangers who didn’t know yet how much they’d come to mean to each other.”Sophia leaned closer, studying the careful sketch of a snow-covered lodge, two small figures standing near its entrance. “You’re starting with us,” she said softly.“Everything else came from that,” Grace said simply. “I thought it made sense to begin there instead of somewhere painful.”Over the following weeks, the mural grew steadily a