CHAPTER 8
Home was quiet. The mansion was no longer hollow; it felt like a living, breathing place again.
Sofia was sitting in the solarium, watching the rain fall against the glass. When Damian entered, she didn't flinch.
She stood up, her movements still hesitant but intentional. She walked over to him, her eyes searching his face as if she were trying to memorize every line, every expression.
“Is she gone?” Sofia asked, her voice stronger than it had been days ago.
“She’s in a cell, Sofia. And she isn't coming out for a long, long time,” Damian said, taking her hand.
Sofia nodded, a small, genuine smile finally reaching her lips. “I kept waiting for you. Every day. I thought I was crazy, but I kept waiting.”
Damian pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her hair. The grief that had been lodged in his chest for three years finally began to dissolve, replaced by a profound sense of gratitude.
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“You’re safe now,” he whispered. “You don't have to wait for anything anymore.”
They stood there for a long time, just holding each other in the quiet room, the past fading into nothingness as they focused on the present. The nightmare was officially over, and the healing had begun.
