Chapter 135: you

In the quiet of the night, I could hear my own heartbeat.Fast. Uneven. Too loud.

The room felt smaller with my thoughts racing like this.

Lewis must have sensed it.

His hand moved slowly against my back, firm but gentle, a steady rhythm that grounded me without asking permission. It was the kind of touch that said you’re not alone, even when no words were spoken.

"I didn’t mean to weigh on you," he said softly. "I just wanted you to know how I feel."

Then, after a pause, "It’s late. Try to sleep."

His voice was low, calm, carrying that quiet authority that always settled my nerves whether I wanted it to or not.

Not long after, his breathing evened out slow, deep, steady. The kind of rest that only came when someone felt secure.

I lay awake much longer.

When sleep finally pulled me under, it didn’t come gently.

I dreamed.

I was back at the Morrigan Residence.

The air there was always warm in my memory, always safe. It was the only place where my childhood had been spared from cruelty. After Camilla vanished, the family treated me like I belonged. Like I mattered.

Love had filled the spaces fate left empty.

In the dream, I was ten years old again.

I sat on a swing in the yard, my feet barely brushing the ground, wearing a simple white dress that fluttered in the breeze. The sky above me glowed soft gold, heavy with the promise of sunset.

Footsteps sounded behind me.

I turned.

Nolan stood there.

His gaze was warm, familiar, filled with something that made my chest ache even before I understood why.

"I can’t believe how tall my sister’s gotten," he said, smiling.

He sat beside me, and we began to swing together, just like we used to. The chains creaked softly, back and forth, back and forth.

Something felt wrong.

"Nolan," I asked carefully, "why are you acting strange today?"

He let out a small laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

"Nothing," he said. "I just realized we haven’t really talked in a long time."

I frowned. "That’s not true. You asked me about my violin at lunch."

"Yes," he said quietly. "I’m confused."

There was sadness in his voice now. Deep. Heavy.

"Elena," he said, "if one day I do something terrible to you... would you forgive me?"

I answered honestly, the way a child would.

"That depends. If it hurts me badly, I wouldn’t forgive you."

He looked at me like the words pierced something inside him.

"Is that so?" he asked bitterly.

I smiled, trying to reassure him.

"You’ve always been good to me. You’d never hurt me. That day will never come."

The sky burned orange and red behind us, breathtaking and painful all at once.

"Nolan," I said, pointing, "the sunset is really pretty today."

He stared at it for a long time.

"Too bad I won’t see sunsets like this again."

"Why?" I asked, confused.

"Because I have to go far away," he said. "I’m sorry."

His hand rested on my head, warm, trembling slightly.

I grabbed his wrist, panic rising in my chest.

"Nolan, where are you going?"

"Somewhere I need to atone," he said softly. "Our family wronged you. You have to be strong. Don’t repeat our mistakes."

Tears spilled down my cheeks.

"What’s happening to you?"

He wiped them away with his thumb, gentle and sad.

"Don’t cry for someone like me. One day, you’ll meet someone who truly chooses you. Someone who will stand by you no matter what."

His body began to fade.

"No " I cried, throwing my arms around him.

But he dissolved in my grasp, breaking apart into a swirl of white butterflies. They circled me three times, brushing my skin like whispers, before flying toward the blazing sunset.

"Nolan don’t go!"

I ran after the white butterflies, my feet sinking into the grass, my chest burning as I reached for them. But they only flew higher, farther, slipping out of my reach until they vanished into the dark sky.

The last trace of sunset faded.

The swing creaked softly, empty now, swaying back and forth as if nothing had ever happened.

"Nolan!" I screamed, my voice shaking.

Then I woke up.

Tears streamed down my face before I even opened my eyes. My chest hurt, tight and aching, like something had been torn away from me.

Through the thin glow of the streetlights outside the window, I saw it.

A single white butterfly.

It drifted through the falling snow, fragile and unreal, before disappearing into the night.

Before I could breathe, Lewis’s arms wrapped around me. Strong. Warm. Protective. His presence pressed against me like an invisible shield.

"Elena," he murmured, pulling me closer. "Did you have a nightmare?"

My words came out broken, tangled with sobs.

"A butterfly... a white butterfly..."

He frowned slightly, brushing my hair back. "In this cold? That doesn’t make sense."

But the moment I remembered Nolan’s voice from the dream, the last of my control shattered.

"He came," I cried. "Nolan came to see me."

Lewis fell silent.

He didn’t laugh. He didn’t doubt me. He only tightened his hold, his chin resting against my head, steady and solid like he was grounding me back into the present.

"He must want you to live well," he said quietly. "To find the truth for the Morrigans. To clear his name."

I shook my head hard.

"No. He didn’t ask for revenge." My voice broke. "He just... apologized."

I covered my face as the tears kept coming, endless and raw.

That dream had been his farewell.

A gift.

He had taken me back to the only time in my life when everything was pure when I was ten, when love was simple, when nothing had been ruined yet. In that place, there were no lies, no hatred, no blood between family.

Only warmth.

"Stop crying," Lewis said softly, his thumb brushing my cheek.

I clutched his pajama shirt like I was afraid he might disappear too.

"Lewis," I whispered, desperate, "we have to find the truth. As soon as possible."

He exhaled slowly. "We will. But it’s still dark. Rest for now."

I lay back down, but sleep never came again.

The next morning, Lewis didn’t leave my side.

Concerned, he had already ordered the test results to be expedited.

"This is the same sample we tested years ago," he explained calmly. "The preservation solution worked. I had the team rerun everything."

My heart hammered as I stared at the sealed envelope in his hand.

"What’s the result?" I asked, barely able to breathe.

"See for yourself."

My fingers trembled as I opened it.

The moment I saw the results, my entire body went cold.

The same conclusion.

"How... how is this possible?" I whispered. "Camilla is cruel. She’s capable of killing without blinking. How could someone like her belong to the Morrigans?"

My hands shook as memories flooded in.

"I saw it with my own eyes, Lewis. The way she treated Grandma. The hatred in her voice. That wasn’t resentment it was venom."

I ran my hands through my hair, panic rising.

"She was only five when she was taken by the water. What kind of hatred could she have carried from that age? Even if someone filled her head with lies, no child turns into that."

Something wasn’t right.

"I’m missing something," I said hoarsely. "I know I am."

Lewis took my hand gently, lifting my face until I had no choice but to look at him.

"Elena," he said calmly, firmly, "don’t panic."

"The test only proves one thing."

"That the Morrigans’ daughter is real."

I stared at him, confused.

"I don’t understand."

His gaze sharpened, focused, certain.

"The sample is real," he said slowly. "But Camilla may not be."

A chill ran down my spine.

The truth slammed into me so hard it stole my breath.

"So... this Camilla is an impostor," I whispered. "Which means..."

My heart raced.

"The real Camilla," I said softly, fear and hope tangled together,

"is still alive."