CHAPTER SIXTY FOUR
ALEX DAVALO
Not as easy as she makes it look!
That night, I walked over to my mother's private chamber. The scent of lavender mixed with the faint aroma of herbs hung in the air like a shroud. Flickering candlelight danced across the stone walls, casting warm shadows that felt both comforting and haunting. The heavy oak door creaked open, and, even before I stepped inside, I sensed that familiar heaviness in my chest.
"Leave us alone," she said to the healer the moment she saw me. The healer, a new one, an elderly woman with silver hair braided tightly, nodded solemnly and slipped out, closing the door behind her.
"Mom..." I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes, though dimmed by pain, glittered with that same unwavering warmth that always melted my wor
