Hillary was quiet for a moment. “Fine. If you don’t like Beckett, I’ll find you someone else.”
Molly didn’t even look at her. “Stop trying to control who I marry.”
“I’m only trying to help you.”
“The best help you can give me is to stay out of it.” Molly had reached the end of her patience.
Hillary cared more about power and wealth than anyone else Molly had ever known, which, in retrospect, made perfect sense. It was Hillary who had crafted Molly’s icy, unflinching view of the world. Since childhood, Hillary had fed her daughter a steady stream of cold truths, like men couldn’t be trusted; love was a luxury no one could afford; status was everything, and emotions were a liability.
Hillary’s tone hardened. “Do you think I’d be meddling if you weren’t such a mess? Your father’s on his deathbed, and everyone’s scrambling to get in his good graces. And look at you, drinking, wasting time, doing nothing with your life.”
Molly’s tone didn’t change. “If it’s mine, it’s mine. If it’s not, I don’t want it anyway.”
“You…”
Molly turned and walked toward the elevator. She swiped her card, rode up to the fifth floor, and entered her room, where a husky greeted her at the door. She had raised the dog since it was a puppy. But dogs never live as long as people. This one was old now, slower and quieter. She didn’t know how much time they had left together. She patted its head gently. “If he comes back,” she murmured, “I’ll say yes. I’ll be with him. What do you think, Lucky?”
The dog let out a soft howl, as if in reply.
From inside her Hermès bag, her phone started ringing. It was Shermaine, and Molly picked up. It had been two years since they last saw each other. As the video call connected, both women smiled faintly.
Shermaine noticed her flushed cheeks. “Been drinking?”
“A little,” Molly replied, her voice low and relaxed.
Shermaine smirked. “You used to be a tank. If your face is red, you’ve had more than a little.”
Molly kicked off her heels and sank into the sofa, stretching her legs across the cushions. “Roy messed me up,” she murmured. “I don’t care about anything anymore. I just want him back.”
“If Roy heard you say that, he’d probably do a happy little dance,” said Shermaine.
Molly gave a faint smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’ve been looking for him for over a year. Nothing. Not a trace.” Just saying it out loud made her head throb. The ache was constant now.
Shermaine’s voice softened. “He’s strong, Molly. If anything had really happened to him, we’d have heard by now. The silence means something. It means maybe he’s trapped, or in hiding. But he’s out there. He wouldn’t die without seeing you again. I’m sure of it.”
Molly’s eyes turned red around the edges. It was because she loved Roy so much that she felt this crushing guilt. If only she had been stronger, she could’ve protected him. She lit a cigarette and took a long drag. As the smoke curled in the air, the look in her eyes sharpened with a new clarity. She couldn’t keep falling apart like this, not if she wanted to keep him safe when he came back. If she truly wanted to protect him, she had to take down every last one of their enemies before they ever had the chance to hurt him again.
The next morning, Hillary was stunned to see Molly come down for breakfast. She wore a black suit and tall boots, her posture sharp, eyes clear. For the first time in months, she looked like her old self, composed, determined, and unshakable. Hillary’s expression softened into something almost proud. This was the daughter she knew, the one who couldn’t be swayed by feelings.
“After breakfast,” Hillary said, “come with me to the hospital to see your father.”
“I’ll go,” Molly replied. “But not with you.”
Hillary’s face went cold again.
Chapter 567
In Avalmere, the wolf had been locked away in the shed for three days. Maybe Mireya lived too far from town. Maybe no one even thought to look here. Either way, the hiding place had worked. Inside the house, music played softly. Mireya was frying eggs.
In the storage shed, the snowy white wolf stirred from sleep at the sound. His wounds had healed fast. He was ready. It was time to go. But then, loud crashes came from inside the house, as if something had fallen, with several other things following. The wolf bolted into the house. Mireya was on the floor, one hand clutching her chest, her face drained of color. “My medicine…”
But he was still a beast. He couldn’t understand her words. He ran off again, leaving Mireya slumped on the floor, completely hopeless.
Then suddenly, a man burst into the house, wearing one of Mireya’s old coats. He was tall, striking, a handsome man from Wallington. He asked quickly, in fluent Ustranasion, “Where do you keep your medicine?”
If Molly or Shermaine had been there, they would’ve recognized him in an instant. It was Roy.
Dazed, Mireya pointed toward the cabinet beside the TV. “There…”
Roy grabbed the bottle and handed it to her. After she took it, her breathing slowly steadied.
“I should take you to the hospital,” he said, concern etched on his face.
“It’s nothing,” Mireya said, waving him off. “Old condition. Comes and goes.”
But then, without warning, Roy shifted and transformed back into the wolf. Before she could react, he lifted her gently onto his back and took off at full speed. He wasn’t just being kind. He owed her. Still, Mireya couldn’t help feeling a little terrified.
Another year had arrived in the blink of an eye. For Owen and Janice, this year had turned out to be far more joyful, especially for Owen, since Joshua had finally come home, bringing along an adorable little great-granddaughter. Today, the York family was complete; everyone had returned, not a single one absent. Gracie easily became the star attraction, adored by the entire family. Her stroller was already overflowing with lavish gifts. There was barely room left for anything else.
With Joshua’s marriage settled and a child now in tow, it was only natural that Owen started turning his attention to the rest of his grandchildren. He decided he’d seize this rare chance to set up some blind dates while everyone was still around. After all, Joshua, who was the third eldest, already had a family of his own and even a daughter. Yet, his two older siblings remained hopelessly single.
After dinner, Shermaine happily carried Gracie back to their room to give her a bath. Before that, she sat on the bed, sorting through Gracie’s pile of presents. The York family was exceptionally generous. The gifts Gracie received today could easily buy several properties in Basterel.
Just then, Dave quietly picked up a particularly valuable-looking present and started sneaking away. Shermaine cleared her throat and called out, “Hold it right there. What are you doing with Gracie’s gift?”
Dave froze guiltily. “Um… planning to sell it.”
“And do what exactly?” she asked.
“Save up some pocket money?”
Shermaine chuckled, shaking her head. “No way. That belongs to Gracie. Hands off.”
Looking crestfallen, Dave reluctantly handed the gift back to her. Seeing his pitiful expression, Shermaine softened and handed him a hundred-dollar bill. Dave immediately perked up, thrilled. After so many years surviving on Earth, he’d finally gotten his first taste of having real money. He held tightly onto the bill, his mind already racing with thoughts of how many buckets of fried chicken he could buy.
After tidying Gracie’s presents away safely, Shermaine picked her up and headed to the bathroom. She carefully bathed Gracie until she smelled fresh and sweet, then laid her gently onto the bed to let her crawl around freely.
Soon after, Joshua came into the room, reeking of alcohol. Shermaine, now dressed comfortably in a soft lilac nightgown, was busy checking emails on her phone. Joshua leaned toward her, but Shermaine scrunched up her nose and lightly pushed him away. “You stink. Shower first,” she teased.
Ignoring her protests, Joshua gently wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and leaned closer, stealing a lingering kiss. After a moment, he pulled away slightly, producing a small wrapped gift and placing it into her hand. His voice, softened by the alcohol, sounded especially deep and alluring. “For you. Happy New Year.”
Shermaine smiled softly and kissed him again. “Thank you. You’re always so sweet.”
Meanwhile, far away in the Kingdom of Xyperia, Jasmine was now three months pregnant. Her belly had started to show slightly, though it wasn’t obvious, and loose clothing easily concealed it. She was currently munching strawberries, relaxing on the couch and watching TV as Damien showered. Soon, the sound of running water stopped, and Damien stepped out of the bathroom, dressed only in a pair of grey cotton pants, his chest glistening slightly with droplets of water. Suddenly, the strawberry in Jasmine’s hand lost its sweetness. She fixed her eyes on Damien’s toned figure, realizing just how much she’d missed seeing those familiar abs.