The Truth We Destroyed Together

By the seventh award, Anastasia had stopped clapping. She still wore a smile. That was the important part. Her mother had taught her never to let irritation reach her face in public. Anger was for people who lacked discipline. A woman with breeding, smiled while she was furious. So Anastasia smiled. And applauded. Again. “Outstanding Academic Achievement in Administrative and Public Law…… Amelia Laurent.” The auditorium erupted. Anastasia's fingers came together twice. Slowly. Then stopped. Beside her, Camilla Ashton leaned closer. “Again?” Anastasia didn't answer. On the stage, Amelia Laurent was accepting another award. She had already received one for academic excellence, another for outstanding research, another for public policy analysis, and one for her contribution to student advocacy. Now this one. At this point, nobody even seemed surprised. The moment the presenter reached for the next envelope, whispers travelled through the auditorium. “Amelia.” “It has to be Amelia.” “Who else?” Anastasia's jaw tightened. Across the hall, Amelia stood beneath the graduation lights, her black gown falling perfectly around her slender frame. She wasn't dressed like someone desperate to impress anyone. That was what made it worse. She looked composed. Elegant. Almost irritatingly unaware of the attention surrounding her. She accepted the award with a quiet smile and thanked the faculty before stepping away from the microphone. Another round of applause followed. Camilla's smile finally cracked. “If this girl continues,” she murmured, “she'll soon be taking your place.” Anastasia slowly turned toward her mother. “What place?” Camilla's eyes remained fixed on Amelia. “You know exactly what I mean Stasia.” The answer was soft. But there was nothing soft about it. Anastasia looked back toward the stage. She had known Amelia for years. Known her as the brilliant girl who always seemed to be one step ahead. The girl professors remembered. The girl students went to, when they needed help understanding a difficult case. The girl who could discuss immigration policy, women's protection, housing regulation and public administration with the confidence of someone twice her age. And worst of all, the girl Julien couldn't stop looking at. Anastasia hated that part most. Because Julien Harrington had never looked at her that way. Not once. The ceremony eventually ended. Graduates flooded out of the auditorium, laughing, taking photographs and searching for their families. Amelia barely made it down the steps before three classmates surrounded her. “Amelia!” “Another award!” “You're impossible.” She laughed. “I didn't give myself the awards.” “You might as well have.” Her laughter carried across the courtyard. And then she saw him. Julien. He was leaning against a dark car several metres away, dressed in a tailored black suit, his attention fixed entirely on her. He had graduated the previous year. He had no reason to be there. Except her. Amelia's smile changed. It softened. Julien pushed away from the car. “You're late.” She stared at him. “I was collecting your awards.” “My awards?” “Yes. I figured since you're so proud of me, you should have something to show for it.” He laughed. Then he reached for her hand. “Come here.” “Julien” He crossed the space between them, caught her gently by the waist, and pulled her against him. “Julien” He kissed her. Not the soft, careful kiss he usually gave her when they were alone. This one was different. It was deep, breathless, and unapologetically certain, as though he had spent the entire day watching her shine and had finally reached the point where he couldn't keep his distance another second. Amelia's fingers curled instinctively into his jacket. When he finally pulled back, their foreheads remained together. She could hear the laughter and celebration around them, but somehow the entire courtyard felt silent. “Everyone is looking,” she whispered. “Let them.” His hand settled possessively at her waist. His eyes moved over her face with an intensity that made her heart race. “Today, you stood on that stage and conquered everything in front of you.” He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “And I stood there watching the whole time, thinking one thing.” “What?” His smile was slow. “That's my girl.” Amelia's cheeks warmed. “Julien…” He kissed her again, softer this time, lingering just long enough to make her forget the crowd. “I've spent too long pretending I can keep what I feel for you hidden.” His thumb traced her cheek. “I don't want to hide you anymore.” She stared at him. “Hide me?” “No.” His gaze held hers. “Claim you.” Her breath caught. “Julien…” “Not because I own you.” His voice dropped. “Because I want the world to know that after everything I've ever been given, you're the one thing I chose for myself.” He kissed her forehead. Then her lips. “And I'm not letting anyone make me ashamed of loving you.” Across the courtyard, Stasia watched. And for the first time that afternoon, her smile disappeared. Anastasia had gone completely still. Camilla noticed. Her daughter's champagne glass trembled once before she steadied it. “Smile,” Camilla whispered. Anastasia did. But her eyes remained fixed on Julien's hand around Amelia's waist. “He's never done that before,” she whispered. Camilla's expression hardened. “Then perhaps it's time someone reminded him who he is.” That evening, Julien drove Amelia home. For several minutes after the car stopped, neither of them moved. “You're staring,” Amelia murmured. “I know.” “It's becoming creepy.” “I'm not just madly in love with you Amelia.” He leaned closer. “I'm obsessed.” She laughed. “That's not a good word.” “Positive obsession.” “Julien.” “I can't do without you.” He kissed her forehead. “I can't wait to make you mine.” Her smile faded slightly. “Julien…” “Tomorrow night.” “What about tomorrow night?” “My family is hosting dinner at the estate. Some very important families will be there.” She stared at him. “You're taking me?” “I'm introducing you.” Her heart stumbled. “To your family?” “To everyone.” Amelia swallowed. “Do you think they'll accept me?” Julien took her hand. “I believe they will.” He kissed her once more. “Tomorrow night, Amelia.” Then he watched until she disappeared through the front door. The warmth vanished from Amelia's face the moment she entered her family's sitting room. Vincent was waiting. Her father looked up. “Where were you?” She smiled. “Graduation celebration.” “I know.” “I also texted you dad…. Told you I'd find my way home and join in later.” Vicent remained still…. Something in his voice made her stop. Then she noticed the tension in his face. “Dad?” “Who took you home?” She hesitated. “Julien.” Vincent's expression darkened. “I warned you about that boy.” “His name is Julien.” “I know his name.” “Then why do you keep treating him like he's some kind of criminal?” “Because I know what that family is capable of.” Amelia stared at him. “You don't even know him.” “I know enough.” he replied. “He's different.” Vincent stood. “You think intelligence will protect you from people like the Harringtons?” “No. But I believe in myself.” She stepped closer. “I've worked for everything I have….” “ I'm graduating at the top of my class.” “I'm going to build something, Dad. I'm going to use what I've learned to change things for people who don't have power……” “Women, immigrants, families fighting against systems that don't listen to them.” Her voice shook. “I can take us somewhere better. You always taught me to dream.” “I taught you to survive.” her father replied. “Then believe in me.” she said. “I do.” Vincent's voice broke slightly. “That's why I'm trying to protect you.” Amelia stared at him. “From what?” Silence. Vincent's fingers tightened around the edge of the table. “Because there are families you don't date, Amelia.” “Why?” His eyes finally met hers. “Because sometimes getting close to them means they eventually find out who you are.” “Why are you so afraid of them?” “Amelia” “No.” She shook her head. “I'm tired of this.” Clara immediately stepped forward. “Don't speak to your father like that.” Amelia turned. “Then tell me, Mum. Tell me what I'm supposed to understand.” Clara froze. “You know something too?” “Amelia.” “No. I'm not going to be a coward.” She looked directly at Vincent. “There are things about you that don't make sense. The things you own. The way you know people you claim you've never met. The way you react whenever someone mentions the Elites.” Vincent's face went pale. Amelia stepped closer. “What have you been hiding from me?” “Nothing.” “Then why can't you look me in the eyes?” He finally did. And for the first time in her life, Amelia saw something she had never seen in her father's face before. Fear. Real fear. “Amelia,” Vincent said quietly, “I am asking you for the last time.” His voice hardened. “Do not go to that dinner tomorrow.” She stared at him. “Why?” “You do not belong in that world.” Her heart sank. “Maybe that's what you think.” “I know it.” he shouted. “No, Dad.” Her voic e became painfully calm. “I don't know who you are anymore.” She turned toward the stairs. Behind her, Vincent closed his eyes. Because there were things he could never tell his daughter. Things that had already cost his family everything. Vincent watched his daughter disappear upstairs. He had spent nineteen years making sure Amelia never asked questions about the Elites. Tomorrow, she was going to walk straight into the elite system he had spent nineteen years running from.