Chapter 22
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Thanksgiving break arrived quickly, painting the university campus in shades of frost and fallen amber leaves. Lily packed a small overnight bag, eager to return to the estate. The independence of college life was exhilarating, but the exhaustion of constant social navigation had worn her down. When Grant’s car pulled up to her dormitory, she practically ran to the passenger door.
"You look tired," Grant observed as she buckled her seatbelt.
"College requires a lot of talking," Lily sighed, resting her head against the cool glass of the window.
"You don't have to talk to anyone this weekend," Grant promised. "Emma’s mother is coming over for dinner, but otherwise, the house is completely empty."
When they arrived at the estate, the heavy iron gates swung open, revealing the massive stone house. It no longer looked like a fortress designed to keep secrets in; it looked like a home. Emma was waiting on the front steps, wrapped in a thick cardigan.
"Welcome home," Emma smiled, pulling Lily into a warm embrace.
"It smells like roasting vegetables and actual spices," Lily said, breathing in the scent escaping through the open front door. "The dining hall considers salt to be a luxury item."
"I made your favorite," Emma said, leading her inside.
The evening was quiet and comfortable. Emma’s mother, walking with a cane but possessing a sharp, vibrant energy, told stories about her garden in the small cottage. Grant cleared the plates, moving with a domestic ease that still occasionally surprised Lily.
After dinner, Lily sat by the fireplace in the living room, watching the flames crackle.
"How is the policy class?" Emma asked, sitting in the armchair beside her.
"We studied our law," Lily said quietly.
May you like
Emma paused. "How did that feel?"
"Strange. But good," Lily admitted. "They talked about the system, Emma. Not just the tragedy. They talked about how to fix it."
