Emily's POV
Jenkins stood in the hallway, his eyes wide with concern. He'd obviously heard everything…the walls weren't that thick. For a moment, we just looked at each other.
I gave him a small nod. I'm fine.
His expression said he didn't believe me, but he nodded back. If you need anything...
I managed a weak smile and continued past him, heading toward the kitchen with purpose.
Lily needed her cookies. And I needed to hold myself together for just a little longer.
The kitchen was warm as soon as i entered, one of the staff who was busy cleaning. She looked up immediately and pulled out the cookie jar, the special one with the triple chocolate chip cookies that were Lily's favorite.
"For Lily?"
"Yes," I said, returning the smile. "Thank you."
I carried the cookies back outside.
I found Lily in the garden with Mom and Mary, looking less devastated but still subdued. When she saw the cookies, her face brightened and happy now.
"Here you go, sweetheart," I said, handing her the container. "Extra chocolate, as promised."
She took a cookie and bit into it, and I saw some of the tension leave her small shoulders. Mom caught my eye over Lily's head, her expression questioning, but I shook my head slightly. Later.
We stayed in the garden until it was almost so dark, it was time to go inside.
The dining room felt enormous with just the four of us.
Me, Lily, Mom, and Nurse Mary…who'd been invited to join us on Mom's insistence. Four women at a table, with one very obvious absence.
Jenkins appeared as we were being seated, his expression carefully neutral.
"Mr. Hawthorne will be taking dinner in his study this evening. He has work to attend to."
"Of course," I said pleasantly, my voice giving nothing away. "Thank you, Jenkins."
His eyes flickered with something that might have been understanding before his mask slipped back into place.
As dinner was served, I made a decision. Tonight would be pleasant. Normal. We would enjoy our meal together.
"So, Lily," I said warmly, turning to my daughter. "Tell us about your first week at school. Have you made any new friends?"
Lily perked up immediately. "Yes! There's Sophie…she's the one with the curly hair, and Mia, and a boy named James who knows everything about dinosaurs."
"Dinosaurs?" Margaret asked with genuine interest. "That sounds fascinating."
"He has a toy stegosaurus he brings every day!" Lily's enthusiasm was building, the earlier trauma already fading in that resilient way children have. "And yesterday at recess, we all played that we were paleontologists discovering bones."
Mom smiled, watching Lily with soft eyes. "That sounds wonderful, sweetheart."
The conversation flowed naturally from there. Stories about school, observations about the garden flowers, Mary's gentle comments about the lovely weather we'd been having. She proved to be surprisingly good company, with thoughtful questions that kept Lily engaged.
And I participated fully, asking questions, responding to stories, keeping my tone light and engaged.
But I didn't force laughter. Didn't try to make noise carry down the hall. I simply... was. Present with my family, enjoying their company, living our lives.
Because this wasn't about Victor. This was about showing Lily that we were fine. That we had each other. That our happiness didn't depend on anyone else's approval or presence.
"Mrs. Stevenson," Mary said at one point, "you must be so proud of Emily and Lily. They're both such delightful company."
Mom's face lit up with genuine joy. "I am. They're my whole world."
The words were simple, but they carried weight. Truth. And I felt something tight in my chest loosen just slightly.
By the end of dinner, Lily was giggling at one of Mary's stories about a patient who'd tried to smuggle his pet parrot into the hospital. The sound of her laughter…genuine, unburdened, was exactly what I'd needed to hear.
Jenkins appeared to clear the plates, and I caught his eye briefly.
"Will there be anything else, Mrs. Hawthorne?" he asked.
"No, thank you, Jenkins. It was a lovely meal."
"Indeed it was, ma'am." His expression was warm, approving even. "Indeed it was."
As we left the dining room, Lily slipped her hand into mine. "That was fun, Mommy."
"Yes, it was, wasn't it?" I squeezed her hand.
And it had been. Despite everything…despite the fight, despite Victor's absence, despite the lingering hurt, we'd had a genuinely lovely evening.
I helped Lily with her bath and read her two stories instead of one. She fell asleep easily, one small hand curled around her locket…the one with I and Tom's Picture, her face peaceful.
I stood in her doorway for a long moment, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath, and felt the day's fury finally begin to calm.
I'd protected her. I'd stood up for her. I'd made it clear that she mattered more than anything else.
And tomorrow, we'd wake up and do it all again.
Because that's what family did.
They showed up. They protected each other. They created joy in whatever spaces they could claim.
Even in a mansion that sometimes felt like a prison, we could still build something good.
As I walked to my own room, I passed Victor's study. The light was still on, visible beneath the closed door.
I kept walking.
Whatever Victor was feeling, whatever he was thinking, whatever apologies he might owe, that was his journey to figure out.
Mine was to keep being the mother Lily deserved.
And nothing…not guilt, not pity, not even lingering hope, was going to distract me from that.