Chapter Four: Home is Not Always a Haven
1216 Words
The train rolled into Ashford just after seven in the morning.
A thin veil of mist hung over the platform, softening the outlines of the sleepy town Amelia had once called home. It looked exactly as she remembered—quiet streets, old brick buildings, and the scent of rain lingering in the cool morning air.
Three years had passed.
Nothing had changed.
Except her.
She stepped off the train with a single suitcase and tightened her grip on the umbrella the Kingsleys’ old security guard had given her.
For a brief moment, she considered turning around.
She had left this town believing she would never return.
Now, she had nowhere else to go.
A black luxury sedan waited outside the station.
The driver stepped forward the moment he saw her.
“Miss Carter?”
Amelia stopped.
He looked to be in his late fifties, dressed in a tailored black suit with white gloves. His posture was as straight as ever.
She recognized him instantly.
“Mr. Harris.”
The old chauffeur’s eyes glistened.
“It’s good to see you again, Miss.”
Before Amelia could react, he bowed respectfully.
“I’ve missed you.”
Emotion tightened her throat.
Mr. Harris had driven her to school when she was a child. He had taught her how to ride a bicycle after her father died.
She had never imagined the first familiar face she saw would be his.
“You’ve gotten older,” she said with a faint smile.
He chuckled.
“And you’ve grown stronger.”
He took her suitcase without another word and opened the rear door.
As the car pulled away from the station, Amelia watched the town drift past the window.
“So…” she asked quietly.
“How is Grandfather?”
Mr. Harris’s smile faded.
“He refuses to stay in bed.”
She wasn’t surprised.
“He keeps asking when you’ll arrive.”
Amelia looked out the window again.
“I don’t know if he really wants to see me.”
“He does.”
There was no hesitation in the old man’s voice.
“He’s regretted many things these past three years.”
Amelia didn’t answer.
Some regrets arrived too late.
⸻
Forty minutes later, the iron gates of Carter Manor came into view.
The estate stood proudly atop a gentle hill overlooking acres of gardens and ancient oak trees.
It was breathtaking.
It was intimidating.
And it had never truly felt like home.
The gates opened automatically.
As the car drove through, Amelia noticed something unusual.
There were far more vehicles than normal.
Luxury cars lined the circular driveway.
Several unfamiliar faces stood outside the mansion.
“What is all this?” she asked.
Mr. Harris tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
“The family has gathered.”
Her heart sank.
“The entire family?”
He nodded.
“Your grandfather called everyone.”
A knot formed in Amelia’s stomach.
She had expected an awkward reunion.
She hadn’t expected an audience.
⸻
The moment she stepped out of the car, every conversation stopped.
Dozens of eyes turned toward her.
Some surprised.
Some curious.
Others openly judgmental.
A woman in an emerald dress folded her arms.
“Well…”
Her voice carried across the courtyard.
“The runaway bride finally came back.”
Amelia recognized her immediately.
Her aunt.
Vivian Carter.
Still impeccably dressed.
Still incapable of speaking without criticism.
Amelia forced herself to smile politely.
“Good morning, Aunt Vivian.”
Vivian looked Amelia up and down.
“I expected designer luggage.”
Instead…
She glanced at the modest suitcase.
“…you’ve returned with almost nothing.”
Amelia replied calmly.
“I only brought what I needed.”
Vivian laughed.
“I suppose billionaires don’t share their fortunes after divorce.”
Several relatives chuckled.
Amelia’s fingers tightened around the umbrella, but her expression remained composed.
Three years ago, those words would have shattered her confidence.
Today…
They were only noise.
Another voice interrupted.
“That’s enough.”
Everyone turned.
A tall man in his early thirties descended the front steps.
He wore a navy suit with the sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms, as though he’d come straight from work.
His face softened the moment he saw Amelia.
“You came.”
Amelia’s breath caught.
“Ethan.”
Her older cousin smiled.
It was genuine.
Warm.
Without judgment.
He crossed the courtyard and pulled her into a brief embrace.
“You’ve lost weight.”
She laughed softly.
“So have you.”
“That’s because this family keeps me busy.”
A few relatives shifted uncomfortably.
Ethan glanced at Vivian.
“Grandfather asked us to welcome Amelia.”
His voice remained calm, but firm.
“So let’s try acting like family.”
Vivian rolled her eyes and walked back into the house without another word.
The tension eased.
Slightly.
⸻
Inside the mansion, everything looked exactly as Amelia remembered.
The marble floors.
The grand staircase.
The portraits of generations long gone.
Even the scent of polished wood brought back memories she thought she’d buried forever.
A maid approached with tea.
Amelia smiled politely.
“Thank you.”
The young woman nearly dropped the tray.
“M-Miss Amelia?”
Amelia blinked.
“Lily?”
The maid gasped happily.
“You remembered me!”
“You used to sneak cookies into my room whenever I pretended I wasn’t hungry.”
Lily laughed.
“And you always pretended not to notice.”
For the first time since signing the divorce papers…
Amelia genuinely smiled.
Maybe not everyone here wanted to remind her of her mistakes.
⸻
Ethan led her upstairs.
“Grandfather’s waiting.”
Outside the bedroom door, he stopped.
Before knocking, he looked at Amelia seriously.
“Whatever happens in there…”
She met his eyes.
“…don’t leave again.”
She frowned.
“What do you mean?”
Ethan hesitated.
Then lowered his voice.
“The family isn’t here because Grandfather is sick.”
Amelia’s pulse quickened.
“They’re here because of his will.”
She stared at him.
“The lawyers arrived before sunrise.”
A heavy silence settled between them.
Ethan continued.
“Everyone believes Grandfather is about to choose his successor.”
“And?”
His expression darkened.
“They think…”
He glanced toward the closed bedroom door.
“…he called you back because he’s planning to give everything to you.”
Before Amelia could answer—
A loud crash echoed from inside the room.
Followed by raised voices.
Then an elderly man’s furious shout.
“Get out!”
Another crash.
Glass shattered against the floor.
The bedroom door suddenly flew open.
A doctor rushed out, looking pale.
“Call the emergency team!”
Amelia’s heart stopped.
Without thinking, she pushed past everyone and ran into the room.
Her grandfather was sitting upright on the bed, clutching his chest.
His breathing was ragged.
Yet the moment he saw Amelia…
His eyes filled with relief.
He stretched out a trembling hand toward her.
His lips moved with great effort.
“You’re…”
He struggled for air.
“…finally…”
His gaze shifted toward the people gathering at the doorway.
Fear flashed across his face.
With the last of his strength, he grabbed Amelia’s wrist and whispered only four words.
“They’re listening.”
Then he lost consciousness.
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