Chapter 68: The Price of Stillness
The morning sun filtered through the tall windows of the Ainsley estate, casting golden patterns on the marble floors. Eva stood by the grand staircase, her small hands clutching the hem of her pale rose dress, eyes wide with anticipation.
"Are you ready, mon cœur?" Vivienne's voice was soft but carried a familiar undercurrent of concern.
Eva nodded, her curls bouncing with the motion. "Yes, Aunt Vivie. Ina said we're going to the mall today!"
Vivienne's gaze shifted to Seraphina, who stood poised, gloved hands folded, her expression unreadable.
"Take care," Vivienne murmured, brushing her hand over Seraphina's shoulder as she passed. "Both of you."
Reginald entered the foyer in a charcoal coat, elegance as effortless as breath. "Ladies, shall we?" he said, voice smooth as satin.
With Marcus, the family's trusted bodyguard, shadowing their steps, the group departed. The ride to the mall was pleasant, filled with Eva's chatter, her nose pressed to the glass to admire the trees as they blurred past, and Seraphina quietly watching her.
Eva squeezed Seraphina's fingers. "It's our first real outing, Yue! Are you excited?"
Seraphina smiled faintly. "Only because you are."
*****
The mall was a gleaming palace of light—glass ceilings filtering sun through cascading fountains and storefronts filled with silks and sparkling jewelry. Eva's eyes danced with wonder.
They visited boutiques, tea shops, and an extravagant bookstore. Reginald occasionally stepped away to take hushed calls. During one such moment, as they exited a perfumery, the rhythm of the day fractured.
Marcus lay on the marble floor, motionless, a red bloom spreading beneath his temple.
"Marcus—" Seraphina moved forward, her voice sharp, but two men in security uniforms blocked her path.
"Miss, please come with us," one said, gripping Eva's arm. "There's been an incident. You'll be safer this way."
Seraphina froze. Something was wrong.
"Unhand her. Now." Her voice turned to ice, her eyes like steel.
The second man pulled a weapon from his coat and aimed it squarely at her chest. "Don't make this difficult."
Eva stiffened. But her gaze never left Seraphina. "Ina…"
"Stay quiet, or your friend gets hurt," the man snapped.
Eva trembled but nodded. "Okay," she whispered. Her small body stopped resisting. But her eyes—her eyes screamed everything she could not say.
*****
They took her through service corridors—twisting, sterile, endless. When they paused to argue over a call, Eva slipped free.
She ran.
Shoes thudding against cold tile. Breath ragged. Dress torn.
She tripped, scraping her knees, but still she ran, hiding herself behind a trash bin near the loading dock.
She didn't cry. Not yet.
*****
Vivienne stormed into the security center half an hour later, fury written in every syllable.
"I want every exit sealed. Find her."
A janitor approached, hesitantly. "I saw a girl… near the service ramp."
Vivienne followed without pause.
She found Eva trembling, curled in a ball, her hair matted, her dress stained.
"Mère!" Eva shrieked and launched herself into her arms.
Vivienne held her like she would never let go. "Shh… You're safe now. I've got you."
From behind a pillar, Seraphina stood watching—trembling, breath caught between guilt and gratitude. She had failed to protect Eva.
She would never forgive herself for it.
*****
The incident was buried. Authorities found no trace of the men. Reginald offered no comment, only ensured the matter never reached the public.
But something shifted.
Each morning, Eva began self-defense training. Her body learned how to fall, how to fight, how to protect herself.
Reginald watched from a distance, silent satisfaction in his eyes.
But Seraphina…
She watched, too—with a heart that ached.
*****
That night, long after Eva had been bathed and tucked into her own bed, a soft knock sounded at Seraphina's door.
"Ina…?"
Seraphina opened it to find Eva, barefoot and quiet, holding her stuffed rabbit.
"I can't sleep."
Wordlessly, Seraphina lifted the blanket. Eva climbed in.
The moonlight spilled across the bed, silver and soft.
Eva curled against Seraphina, nose tucked under her chin. Seraphina held her—but her arms felt foreign, undeserving.
"I shouldn't have let go of your hand," Seraphina murmured, her voice barely there. "I saw you run. I should've stopped you. I should've—"
"Ina," Eva interrupted gently. She tilted her head to look up, her dark eyes gleaming in the low light. "Don't say that."
"But it's true—"
"No. Never blame yourself. Promise me, okay?"
Seraphina looked down into that little face, fragile but fierce, still puffy from earlier tears.
"Promise me," Eva whispered again.
Seraphina swallowed hard. "…I promise."
Eva leaned up on her elbows. "Swear it?"
"I swear."
Then Eva kissed her. Soft and quick—right on the lips. A little, child's kiss of devotion.
Seraphina didn't move, breath caught in her throat.
"You're my Ina," Eva said, curling back down. "You're the reason I didn't cry when I ran. Because I knew you'd find me."
Seraphina buried her face in Eva's hair. "I will always find you."
"You're my safe," Eva mumbled sleepily. "And I'm your brave."
She drifted off like that.
And Seraphina didn't sleep.
She held her like a statue carved from guilt and wonder and love—protecting her from nightmares and the weight of a world that wanted to steal her away.
When morning came, and the maids peeked into the room, they found the two still curled together—Eva's head tucked under Seraphina's chin, their hands clasped between them like a prayer.
They didn't speak.
They didn't need to.