The months that followed Richard's death were a time of healing.
Elara moved through the days with a quiet peace she had never known. The nightmares had faded. The guilt had softened. The weight of the past had finally lifted from her shoulders.
She still thought about her father about the man he had been, and the man he had become. But the anger was gone, replaced by a sad acceptance. He had been broken, consumed by hatred, unable to find his way back to the light. But she had broken the cycle. She had chosen differently.
"Are you okay?" Julian asked one evening, finding her on the terrace.
"I'm okay." She smiled, a soft, genuine smile. "I think I finally am."
A week later, Elara visited her father's grave.
The cemetery was quiet, peaceful. She knelt beside the headstone, her finger
