CHAPTER ELEVEN – RINA Naming moment
Mornings in Calderhallow had a rhythm I'd grown to love.
The air was always cool, faintly sweet with the smell of wet earth and blooming flowers. I stood in the kitchen, hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea, and breathed deeply. The scent reminded me of fresh bergamot, bright, sharp, and quietly soothing.
Once upon a time, I used to break scents apart in my mind, memorizing them for my blends, sandalwood, orange blossom, jasmine. These days, I still did it, but not for work. For comfort. Scents had a way of reminding me I was still here, still living.
A small giggle broke the quiet.
"Mommy!"
Before I could move, a tiny bundle of energy collided with my legs. Her curls were wild, pajamas still rumpled, grin bright as sunrise.
Behind her came her sister, slower, still clutching the stuffed rabbit she'd had since birth.
I crouched, gathering them both into my arms. For a long moment, I just held them, breathing in their warm, sweet scent.
I hadn't chosen their names when they were born. At the time, everything had been too raw, too uncertain. Names felt too permanent for a world that could shatter overnight.
But now, looking into their faces one bright and mischievous, the other soft and thoughtful something in me settled.
"Lila," I said softly, touching the lively one's cheek. "And Isla," I whispered to her quieter sister.
They blinked at me, then smiled as if they had been waiting for those names all along.
"Lila!" the first one repeated proudly, patting her chest.
"Isla," the other echoed in a whisper, clutching her rabbit closer.
Tears pricked my eyes, but I smiled through them. "Yes. My Lila. My Isla."
It felt like a promise to them, to myself. Whatever happened, they were mine, and I was theirs.
By the time Liora came into the kitchen, the girls were at the table, giggling over toast and jam.
"You look like you've been crying," Liora said gently, setting a hand on my shoulder.
"Good tears," I said with a soft laugh. "I finally named them."
Liora's smile widened, relief flashing in her eyes. "It's about time. What did you choose?"
"Lila and Isla."
"Perfect," she said simply, as though it had always been meant to be.
After breakfast, I took the girls outside. The garden smelled of lavender and damp grass, and Lila immediately ran toward the flowerbed, squealing. Isla followed more slowly, stooping to pick a daisy and tuck it into her rabbit's ear.
"Careful with the roses," I called after them, smiling.
Liora brought two cups of tea and sat beside me on the steps. "You know, the lady from the farmer's market asked me yesterday if you'd consider making candles or perfumes for the town fair next month. She says everyone's been talking about how nice our house smells whenever the windows are open."
I blinked. "Really?"
"You've been blending oils again," Liora said. "I think it's time you stop pretending it's just for you."
I looked down at my hands. I had been blending again quietly, in the evenings, when the girls were asleep. It wasn't work yet, not really. But it reminded me of who I used to be before everything went wrong.
"Maybe," I said softly.
For the first time in a long time, I let myself imagine what it might feel like to share my creations with the world again. Not as Tasharina Ravenwood, the girl I used to be but as Rina Hale, the woman I was becoming.
Later that night, when the house was quiet, I sat by the open window and inhaled the cool night air.
Somewhere in the garden, a single rose had bloomed early. Its fragrance drifted toward me, soft and warm, like a promise.
For the first time in years, I believed that maybe, just maybe, we were going to be okay.