Chapter 387: My good Path

Watching Whitney crumple to the deck, sobbing with her whole body, made something in my chest pull tight. I moved in quietly and wrapped my arms around her from behind, holding her steady against the wind. "It’s cold out here. Let’s go inside. He told me your health hasn’t been good you’ll make yourself sick."Her crying only got louder. Between sobs, she managed to push the words out. "Elena, why didn’t you tell me sooner?"

"He had his reasons," I said gently. "And I want you to know the tracker was a lie. There’s no chip. He made it up."

I remembered Vito’s face the night before when he’d told me. There had been something in his eyes grief and tenderness so tangled together they’d looked almost the same. She believed every word, he’d said. I told her the chip would detonate if she wandered too far, and she just believed me. Like a frightened little rabbit. He’d almost smiled when he said it, and that almost-smile had been the saddest thing I’d seen all week.

But it wasn’t Whitney who was foolish. It never had been.

I couldn’t follow his suggestion to deceive her. Living through everything with Lewis had taught me exactly what it felt like to be protected through dishonesty to have someone decide, on your behalf, that the truth was too heavy for you to hold. Lewis had done it out of love, and it had still broken something between us. I didn’t want that for Whitney. Whatever was coming for Vito, whatever road he’d chosen, she deserved to walk into her future with her eyes open. No one got to make that choice for her. Not even him.

"Wisteria had already planned everything before any of us could stop it," I continued, keeping my voice soft. "He used the chip story and the threat against the Morrigans to back you into a corner because he was terrified of what Wisteria would do to you if you had any room to fight back. That day, when you had no choice but to act against your father he never wanted that guilt to live inside you. He chose to be the one you’d hate. He decided your hatred was easier to carry than your grief." I paused. "He also lied to me. He said the ashes were Malcom’s. They weren’t. They were Grandma’s. He deceived Dominic to get them to me and asked me to say nothing to you. He even suggested giving you something to erase your memories so you could wake up as Anna Morrigans, clean and new, with none of this weighing on you."

Whitney turned into me, pressing her face against my shoulder, her tears soaking through the fabric. "Elena," she whispered. "Why are you telling me all of this?"

"Because it’s yours to decide. Not his, not mine. Only you and he could ever really untangle what’s between you, and you can’t make a real choice without the truth." I pulled back just enough to look at her. "I have the pills. But whether you take them is entirely up to you."

Her red-rimmed eyes lifted to mine. "What about him?"

I wiped her face carefully with my thumb. "He has his path. And you have yours. You’re almost twenty-six, Whitney. You’ve earned the right to walk forward without the past chained to your ankle. Don’t let regret be the thing that keeps you standing still."

She was quiet for a long moment.

"Freedom," she said slowly, like she was testing the shape of the word. "Do I actually have it now?"

"Yes," I said. "You do."

Whitney let me help her to her feet. She turned back toward the water out of instinct, but the island had already disappeared into the distance nothing left of it but open sea and gray sky. I reached up and smoothed a hand over her tear-stained cheek. "What are you thinking?"

"I’m thinking about the road that brought me here."

Not about him. About the road. I wasn’t entirely sure I believed her, but I understood what she was trying to do and I respected it.

"Elena." Her voice came out soft and a little worn. "I’m okay. Can you give me a minute alone?"

"Of course."

I picked up the cloak Vito had left folded near the railing dark fabric, practical, chosen with her in mind and draped it carefully around her shoulders before stepping away.

The moment it settled onto her, Whitney’s tears started again. She pulled the edges of it closed with both hands, knuckles going pale, and pressed her lips together hard. When she finally spoke it came out barely above a whisper. "No one will ever understand me the way he did."

I left her with that and walked back inside.

Vivian looked up when I entered, hesitating, clearly wanting to cross the space between us and not quite finding the nerve. Greg sat with Malcom, both of them carrying the particular awkwardness of people who knew they owed an apology they didn’t know how to shape. Malcom looked like he’d been working something up for a while. I didn’t give any of them the opening. I moved past them without slowing down.

Their remorse didn’t reach me anymore. The version of me who had needed their love who had spent years quietly hoping for it was gone. That girl had been buried slowly, under every moment of neglect and pain they had handed her, and she wasn’t coming back.

Lewis caught me as I reached him, pulling me into his arms without a word. "Rest."

"Okay."

I closed my eyes against his chest, and the steady rhythm of the ship rocking on the water pulled me under faster than I expected.

In the dream, I saw her the silver-haired woman, standing alone at the water’s edge, playing the ocarina. The melody drifted out over the sea as the sun sank low and red on the horizon. Then she set the instrument down gently on the wet sand, turned toward the water, and walked in. The waves rose around her, and she let them. Her face was completely at peace. No fear, no struggle. Just a quiet smile as the deep water took her.

"No "

I jolted awake, heart slamming against my ribs. Lewis was already looking at me, his hand warm on my arm.

"Nightmare?"

The feeling of cold water closing over me was still everywhere in my lungs, on my skin, pressing in from all directions. I grabbed his sleeve and reached up to touch his face, needing to feel that he was solid and real. "Lewis. Lewis "

"I’m here. What’s wrong?"

"I don’t want to be alone." My voice came out smaller than I meant it to. "Please don’t leave me."

He gathered me back in, pressing his lips to the top of my head. "Silly girl. It was a dream. I’m not going anywhere." His hand moved slowly through my hair. "Look we’re almost at shore."

I looked up. Sunlight was pouring through the window, and the sea outside was calm and flat and ordinary. The island was completely gone from view. Everything that had happened there already felt like something half-imagined a dream layered inside another dream.

I had lost Grandma. The Blackwells had gotten what they came for. Whitney had found her freedom.

It was over.

A helicopter was waiting on the shore, arranged by Lewis. There weren’t enough seats for everyone, so the Morrigans would take a car back separately. I looked over at Whitney before we boarded, hoping.

She had already made her decision. "Elena, they need me more than you do right now."

I understood. The Morrigans home even broken and hollowed out as it was was still hers. She couldn’t walk away from it, not yet.

"Okay. Call me when you’re settled."

"I will."

Lewis had already boarded. I was two steps behind him when someone grabbed me from behind arms wrapping around me fast, hot tears immediately soaking into my neck.

Vivian’s voice cracked completely. "Elena, I know there’s nothing that makes what we did okay. After everything I finally understand how much we put you through. I should have seen you sooner. I should have protected you. Every mistake was ours."

Months ago, hearing those words would have meant the world to me. I had spent so long wanting exactly this just to be seen by her, just to matter. I had needed it with a desperation that had quietly shaped everything about who I was.

But that version of me was gone.

I carefully unwrapped her hands from around me, held them briefly, then reached up and tucked a strand of her white hair back from her face. I looked at her directly and kept my voice gentle. "Mrs. Morrigans, I think you’re confused. Your daughter Elena is gone. Don’t you remember?" I gave her a small, steady smile. "The person in front of you is Riley. My mother is Lena. My father is Grant. Please try to remember that, the next time we see each other."

I turned and walked toward the helicopter, each step deliberate and unhurried.

Behind me, Vivian’s voice broke open.

"Elena just once more can’t you just call me Mom one more time?"

I kept walking.