Chapter 280: Is she our next matriarch?

Lady Matilda hugged Jessica again and again, as though her arms could pull back the time lost between them. Each embrace was tender, trembling, yet unrelenting—as though she feared Jessica might vanish the moment she let go.

"You must have suffered greatly... when she died," she murmured, her voice thinned by grief, her brows furrowed with the weight of heartache

Her grip tightened slightly, as if the words had reopened an old wound.

"How was she, my Nora?" she asked, her voice cracking with emotion. "Did she live well? Or... did she suffer so much?"

The questions spilled out, unfiltered. For years, she had lived with them in the corners of her mind and in silence, these questions had lived and echoed within her yet she had never been able to answer them.

Has Nora eaten well?

Was she safe?

Who held her when she cried?

Who celebrated her when she succeeded?

Every time Lady Matilda had sat before the elaborate meals served by Santiago’s elite chefs, her heart would twist. Did her daughter dine with dignity—or simply survive?

Eventually, her uncertainty had pushed her into a life of charity and almsgiving. It was the only way she knew to atone for her helplessness.

She gave with one hope, one prayer: that somewhere, somehow, by feeding others, by giving warmth, hope, and comfort, some divine force would extend that grace to her daughter, wherever she might be and her daughter might find favor from above.

Now, looking at Jessica—Nora’s image reborn, strong, graceful, and whole. She felt that perhaps, her prayers had been answered, not for Nora, but for the legacy she left behind.

Jessica held the elderly woman with gentle firmness, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. She could feel Lady Matilda’s heartbeat, thudding softly against her own, and she wished she had the power to undo her mother’s pain.

Gently, she offered comforting words, painting a picture of a mother who had lived with dignity and grace despite life’s burdens.

"She lived beautifully... strong, Jessica said, her voice steady despite the storm inside her. "Step by step she pushed forward...day after day. Strong...Determined...never breaking, she never gave up."She concluded.

Still, a sting remained at the back of her throat. Behind those words was the memory of Nora’s pain—masked behind warm smiles, hidden behind late-night tears when she thought Jessica was asleep.

Jessica could still recall how her mother bore her suffering in silence, her heart heavy from a loveless marriage to George Brown.

Even as a child, Jessica had sensed it. Nora had stayed for her. Endured for her.

Now, the full weight of it settled on her chest like iron.

Jessica clenched her fists slightly. Her heart ached, her breath caught in her chest. "No matter the cost," she resolved silently, "George and that woman must pay for all she endured."

knock interrupted

"the table is set.

trembling

sorry if this feels rushed," she said, turning to Jessica with a look of apology. "But I thought it

gave her a gentle, faint, reassuring

reply alone won Lady Matilda’s heart and deepened the pride in her heart. she couldn’t help feeling immense pride

the way down the grand hallway,

dining hall opened before them in opulent glory and they entered

golden glow, and the long

and whispering amongst themselves. A hush fell across

grace, motioning for Jessica to

know there has always been a quiet absence in our family, an empty space where our daughter Nora should have been. So, today,

ripple of unease passed

Brown, she is

the table. Some gasped. Some exchanged knowing glances. Others stiffened, their eyes narrowing behind half-raised wine glasses.Some startled. Others plainly

tension, Lady Matilda continued with

belongs here. And moving forward, I expect her to be treated as

in the

Santiago was the first to react. He rose to his feet, crossing the room in

smile full of relief and sincerity. He never expected the situation to come

at his heart, he

a few others followed—some with genuine warmth,

their eyes narrowed, some

smiles or fleeting nods. A few, however, stared at their plates,

but she saw it all—the envy, the subtle resistance, the silent

breath and casting a fleeting glance at Jessica, noting her composure, grace and poise gave her a thumbs up in her

gently patted the chair beside

"Jessica, sit here."

twitched. Forks paused mid-air. That seat—next to the matriarch—was symbolic. Reserved for the heir. It

Jessica had been placed in

audible shift of posture moved around the room. Expressions darkened. The unspoken hierarchy

table signified their rank in the family. For Lady Matilda to place Jessica at

of realization passed through the family. She’s

exchanged amongst them as a

she our next

but inside her "So... I’ve just earned enemies I haven’t even met yet." Jessica thoughts sharpened.

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