The morning air on the private island carried a strange heaviness. The sea was calm, the sun gentle, yet everything felt sharp and unbearable for the family gathering outside the villa. Lea stood near the steps where the carriages would take them down to the docks, Hugo at her side with his hand wrapped firmly around hers. Her suitcases were packed neatly, lined up by the door, yet her eyes had drifted to them again and again as though they were not truly hers.
Marina and Kael had come out together, their expressions solemn. Marina's hand clung to Kael's arm, as though she was summoning courage from his strength. Kael, towering and silent, said nothing at first, his dark eyes fixed on the girl before him—the girl who had once laughed with Mireya and Maxen, who had sat at his table as though she belonged there.
Marina broke the silence. Her voice was trembling, but soft.
"Lea, my dear… you will come back home again, won't you? To this house. To us."
