Chapter 102: Known faces 2

"Mr. Peay, please calm down. This isn’t the time for this," someone called out, trying to pull the room back from the edge.Before the noise could settle, Sera stepped forward. Her voice was steady, carrying a quiet authority that made people pause.

"Bring out the paintings Elena left with us."

A moment later, several children walked in, arms trembling slightly as they carefully carried canvases onto the stage.

The second the paintings were set down, the air changed.

Whispers spread fast, sharp and excited.

"That style... it’s S. No doubt about it."

"Those strokes that’s her hand. Elena really was S."

Gasps followed, one after another.

"So she was fighting her darkness alone while her own family ignored her?"

"And they let someone else take credit for everything?"

"She was their blood. How could they do that?"

The crowd’s mood flipped in an instant.

The admiration once aimed at Camilla twisted into rage. Shouts broke out. Some people surged forward, held back only by security.

"You lied to us!"

"I cursed Elena because of you!"

"Why did someone like her have to die while you’re still standing?"

The guards formed a barrier, but it barely held.

Banners and signs flew through the air. What once showed support now turned into weapons, raining down toward the Morrigans.

At first, it was chaos without focus.

Then a sharp card cut across Camilla’s cheek, drawing blood.

Malcom rushed to her side at once, shielding her without thinking, his body instinctively moving to protect what he believed was his future line.

The ceremony was over.

What had been celebration turned into judgment.

I stood still, watching Camilla’s face drain of color. Her eyes darted wildly, searching for escape. But there was nowhere left to run.

This wasn’t punishment yet.

This was only the opening howl before the hunt.

After I died, they used my name to lift her higher. They built her image on my silence.

But balance always comes.

The same crowd that once mocked me now screamed her name in fury.

I almost laughed to myself.

Too bad no one brought eggs.

And as if the world heard that thought, a voice shouted from the crowd

"There are eggs under the seats! Use them!"

I blinked.

Eggs?

Before I could even process it, one flew through the air and cracked right on Camilla’s head. Rotten yellow sludge spilled down her hair and face.

The smell hit instantly. Sharp. Nasty.

Someone had planned this. These weren’t fresh. They were old. Spoiled. Saved for a moment like this.

Eggs started flying everywhere.

The Morrigans were drenched in filth.

Vivian screamed, panic breaking her polished mask as she looked down at herself, horror written all over her face.

Even the children on stage joined in, small hands throwing eggs with fierce determination.

"You deserve it!"

Then, just like that, the Hudson family quietly disappeared. Slipped away while they still could, cutting the bond before it dragged them down too.

Camilla didn’t make it far.

Her legs gave out. She collapsed right there on the stage.

Vivian screamed, voice cracking. "My daughter! She’s going to die! Stop this!"

But the crowd had stopped listening.

When security finally dragged the Morrigans away, the anger didn’t fade.

It turned to the painting.

The stolen one.

Eggs smashed into it. Paint was thrown. Hands tore at the canvas until nothing recognizable remained.

The artwork was destroyed.

And with it, so was the image Camilla had stolen, worn, and paraded as her own.

The hall broke into chaos so fast that there was no way to save the ceremony. Voices clashed. Chairs scraped. Something shattered against the wall.

The elders made the call immediately. This gathering was over.

My guards closed in around me, firm and fast, guiding me toward a side exit. Their presence formed a shield as we slipped away from the noise, away from the anger, away from the eyes that burned with questions.

The moment the door shut behind us, the air felt lighter.

I breathed in deeply, my chest finally loosening. My senses were still sharp, still alert, but the danger had passed. What remained was gratitude heavy and sincere.

I turned to Sergio and the others who had stood their ground when Elena could no longer speak.

"Thank you," I said quietly. My voice trembled despite my effort to steady it. "Thank you for speaking for her. If Elena could see this... I think she’d finally rest."

Emotion rippled through the group. A few people wiped at their eyes. One woman stepped forward, her expression gentle but puzzled.

"We only did what felt right," she said. Then she hesitated. "But Ms. Ashbourne... why did you bring us here? Why fight so hard for her? What was she to you?"

Sergio’s gaze locked onto mine.

Sharp. Measuring. Like he was listening not just with his ears, but with something deeper. He had always been like that an Alpha who noticed what others missed.

For a moment, my instincts urged me to retreat. To hide. To protect the truth curled tightly inside my chest.

But I lifted my chin and met his eyes.

"Elena changed me," I said softly. "In ways I can’t fully explain. Like all of you, I believed in her. I only wanted to protect what she stood for. To make sure her name didn’t disappear into lies."

Someone else spoke up, curiosity slipping through their voice.

"You look so much like her. Are you sure you weren’t family? Sisters, maybe? Separated somehow?"

A quiet laugh escaped me. Light. Careful. I shook my head.

"No," I said. "Not related. Just chance."

Then, after a pause, "But I’ll continue what she started. Through charity. Through art. Through kindness. That’s how I’ll honor her."

They accepted that. Maybe not because it was the full truth but because it was enough.

I thanked them again before turning away.

"If I ever need your strength again," I said, "I hope I can count on you."

They nodded as one.

When I reached the car, Lewis was already waiting.

The moment I closed the door, everything I’d been holding back crashed into me at once. My shoulders shook. My breath broke. Tears spilled before I could stop them.

Lewis didn’t rush me.

He turned slightly, his presence steady and warm, like a wall at my back.

"Do you need a hug?" he asked gently.

I didn’t answer.

I leaned into him instead, arms wrapping around his torso as I pressed my face against his shoulder.

"Just... let me stay like this," I whispered.

He held me without question.

In his arms, my body finally stopped fighting. My breathing slowed. The tension drained from my muscles.

I wasn’t a shadow anymore. I wasn’t a forgotten name.

I was here. Alive. Seen.

And for the first time, I wasn’t carrying the weight alone.

Everything I’d endured the silence, the betrayal, the lies it had led to this moment. The truth had surfaced. My name was no longer stained. Camilla’s words had fallen apart on their own.

I had thought I was alone in this battle.

But today proved otherwise.

The kindness I’d given, the quiet choices I made when no one was watching they hadn’t vanished. They had taken root.

They had grown into something strong.

They had become my armor.

Lewis’s hand moved slowly over my back, grounding me.

"Cry," he said softly. "You’ve earned that. But promise me something."

I lifted my head, wiping my tears.

"Promise me," he continued, eyes steady on mine, "that you won’t ever cry like this again."