When Her "Death" Couldn't Break Him (Cecilia and Nathaniel)

If Alphonse and Bethany knew about the illness, the family could have pulled their chairs closer, sharing soup, stories, and the final slow sunsets.

But life rarely grants do-overs, and fate never rewinds the reel.

The days in Drocver blurred-flowers ordered, eulogies written, earth turned. After the final hymn drifted over the fresh mound, Cecilia lingered before the granite headstone. Footsteps crunched behind her, and Jonas-black suit crisp, eyes kind-extended a sealed envelope edged in silver.

"Ms. Smith, your mother asked that this reach only your hands," he said.

Cecilia accepted the envelope with trembling fingers, slit it open, and unfolded the single sheet. Queenie's looping script swam before her eyes.

"Ceci, my darling girl, I'm sorry. I wanted so badly to give you more time with me, but my hourglass ran empty. Perhaps this is justice for the mistakes I made once power dulled my conscience. I nearly cost you and Jon your lives, and the shame gnaws at me every dawn. You were right: had you not been my daughter, I might never have recognized my own sin. Forgive me, Ceci-truly, forgive me. To atone, I asked Scorpius to build orphan charities across the country. May those children find the safety I failed to give you. If any mercy remains in heaven, let it keep you and my grandchildren safe."

When Cecilia reached the last line, grief welled so fiercely she could scarcely breathe. She brushed her thumb across the indigo ink, tracing each curve of the handwriting the way one might memorize a loved one's face in the dark.

"Mom," she whispered, voice catching on the winter air, "you carried this guilt all the way to the end."

A mother who once wanted her child dead would struggle to pardon herself— Cecilia knew that truth. If she were in Queenie's shoes, she would feel the same.

the letter with reverence, tucked it inside her coat, and lifted her gaze to the polished memorial picture embedded in

go. I forgave you long ago, and Jon has, too.

Who among the living can swear they have never stumbled into

around the cemetery. "Ms. Smith, Mr. Jiminez turned himself in early this morning. He says atonement is the

had warned her not to block Scorpius' path to

could that restless man ever quiet the storm

finality. She gave a small nod

turned away from the graveside and headed for the waiting car. Once inside, Nathaniel draped a coat over her

a cold,"

soft, almost absent, but it

down the gravel lane, Cecilia watched the rear-view mirror, holding her mother's

marble silhouette dissolved into distance did she let

Cecilia's return, ordering the kitchen to cover the long oak table with

eat," Bethany said, squeezing Cecilia's hand-mourning etched in her own eyes, yet her smile reserved solely for

between the two