Romans & histoires The Grace Year Summary

When Carissa had first informed him of Grace's suspicious activities, he had already prepared a new edict. He knew she would try to justify her actions—to try and convince him that her wrongs were not as great as they seemed. There was no point in debating with her. Grace would never listen or understand that the succession to the throne wasn't merely about talent or ability. No further words were needed. Just this edict alone would be enough to make her make her mourn her loss and drive her to madness with regret.

I clutched my chest, gasping for breath as tears blurred my vision. My fists clenched so tightly my nails dug deep into my palms, using the pain to keep myself upright. “Wandi spent a year overseas, recuperating, before she was willing to forgive Neve. In a couple of days, I’ll stage a medical ‘miracle’, stand up again, and let her resume being the Donna. This year is a penance for her willfulness.” Each word of his was uttered coolly, piercing deeper into my heart. “But… it has been a year. Will she buy it?” someone asked hesitantly.

“You have the talent. You always did. What you didn’t have was someone standing beside you who wasn’t profiting off your silence.” I looked down at the folder, at the contract inside with my name typed clean and unmistakable across the top, no shared credit, no asterisks, no fine print waiting to swallow my work whole the way Adrian’s had. “Why now?” I asked. “Why help me now, after three years of nothing?” Something flickered across Grace’s face, guilt maybe. “Because I let you walk out of here three years ago and marry a man I never trusted, telling myself it wasn’t my place. I’ve regretted it every day since. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

I closed my eyes, forcing myself not to think about it. The ink on the agreement was still fresh, a binding seal on our broken marriage. As his arms tightened around me, I felt only a suffocating nausea. I stood rigid in his embrace, counting the seconds until he would let go. This wasn't a reconciliation but my final, silent goodbye. With his signature secured, the man who had once been my entire world was now nothing more than a stranger I would soon forget.

When I get there, I see that it is Rik, Liam and another Alpha I don't know. Rik immediately stands up, gesturing for me to come in and sit down. “How is Grace? We didn’t mean to upset her.” “She’s better. She’s stronger than she knows, but that was a tough blow. What she didn’t tell you was that her father marked his new mate on her 16th birthday.” “I never liked that guy.” The older gentleman says.

“Perfection was never the goal.” She smiled. “Stability is underrated.” They walked home slowly, stopping once so Grace could point out a window display she liked. Jordan made a mental note—not because he needed to impress her, but because remembering felt natural now. Back inside, the afternoon stretched open in front of them. Not empty. Just undefined. Jordan sat beside her on the couch. “Do you ever miss who you were before all this?” Grace considered the question carefully. “Sometimes. But not in a way that makes me want to go back. More like… gratitude that I survived her.”

"She's only twenty-five years old, and she's getting married in a month. Do you know that? Do you know?" Grace was very weak. She couldn't steady herself while being shaken. Seeing this, Charlie stood in front of her, picked her up, and walked towards the ward. Grace was reluctant to leave, but Charlie ignored it and strode forward on his long legs. What they said made Grace feel even guiltier. That girl was only twenty-five years old. She was so young and would get married next month. Her happy life had just begun, but now it was ruined by Grace. Grace kept silent. She was always talkative and seldom so depressed.

Marrine's eyes were full of tears. "But none of that changes what I have done here. I grew up here," she whispered. Her voice cracked. "This is my home. I learned to walk here. I learned to pray here," she said. She looked at the faces around her, the same ones she had known since she was a child. "I learned to pray here," she said again. She looked at Father Michael. "He taught me that God doesn't make mistakes." Father Michael lowered his head. "And when I was afraid," Marrine continued, "this town was the only thing I had."

At the dark window. At the sleeping city outside it. "How much," she said. Grace told her. Elena sat very still for a long time. The number Grace said was not a number that belonged in a normal conversation. It was the kind of number that changed the shape of possibilities. "It has been building for fourteen years," Grace said. "Invested. Managed. Growing." She paused. "Catherine did not just raise Emeka. She built her a foundation." Another pause. "She built both of you a foundation."

And I never understood why. Alright, a little about myself. For starters, my name is Gracie and I'm nineteen years old. I've always been extremely short, being one of--if not the--shortest girls in my class all throughout high school. My body oddly continued growing right up until my senior year, when I finally achieved the monumental victory of reaching five feet. Well, just shy of it, but who's counting? I was proud of that accomplishment.