Christabel visited her father's grave.
Not alone.
With Lena.
She wanted her daughter to know where she came from.
She wanted her daughter to know that love could survive anything.
Even death.
---
The cemetery was quiet.
The trees were bare.
The sky was gray.
Christabel held Lena's hand.
The baby was walking now. Unsteady. Determined. She didn't understand where they were. She didn't need to.
She just needed to be there.
Damien walked behind them.
Giving them space.
But close enough to catch them if they fell.
---
Christabel stopped in front of the headstone.
Jonathan Vance. Beloved Father. Rest in Peace.
She knelt.
Lena knelt beside her.
"This is your grandfather," Christabel said.
Lena stared at the stone.
"He died before you were born. Before I even knew your father."
Lena touched the stone.
Her tiny fingers traced the letters.
"He was a good man. Kind. Gentle. He loved me more than anything."
Lena looked at her mother.
"I miss him every day."
---
Damien watched from a distance.
His chest was tight.
His eyes were wet.
He had never seen Christabel like this.
Vulnerable. Open. Unprotected.
She wasn't the woman who killed a man with her bare hands.
She wasn't the builder of cities.
She wasn't the wife of Damien Moreau.
She was just a daughter.
Missing her father.
---
"I'm sorry," Christabel whispered.
Lena looked at her.
"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I'm sorry I was so angry. I'm sorry I let her take you from me."
The wind blew.
The trees swayed.
"I'm not angry anymore."
She touched the stone.
"I'm just sad."
---
Lena patted her mother's hand.
"Bah," she said.
Christabel laughed.
The sound was wet and broken and real.
"Yes, baby. Bah."
---
Damien walked to them.
Knelt beside them.
"Are you okay?"
"I will be."
"Do you want to stay longer?"
"No."
"Then let's go home."
---
They walked back to the car.
Lena between them.
Holding both their hands.
Christabel looked back at the grave.
One last time.
"Goodbye, Daddy."
The wind answered.
"Goodbye."
---
The drive back was quiet.
Lena fell asleep in her car seat.
Christabel stared out the window.
Damien held her hand.
"What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking about what he would think of me."
"Your father?"
"Yes."
"What would he think?"
She was quiet for a moment.
"He would be proud."
"Of what?"
"Of surviving. Of building. Of loving."
"He would be right."
---
That night, Christabel put Lena to bed.
Not Damien. Her.
Lena was exhausted from the cemetery.
She fell asleep almost immediately.
"Good night, little one," Christabel whispered.
Lena didn't stir.
"Your grandfather would have loved you. He would have held you. He would have read you stories."
She touched Lena's cheek.
"He would have called you his little star."
---
Damien appeared in the doorway.
"She's asleep."
"She's exhausted."
"The cemetery?"
"The cemetery."
He walked to her.
Took her hand.
"Come with me."
"Where?"
"The garden."
---
The rose was still blooming.
Her mother's rose.
The seedling was growing.
New life.
Christabel knelt beside them.
"I visited my father today," she whispered.
The roses swayed.
"I told him I wasn't angry anymore."
She touched the petals.
"I told him I missed him."
---
Damien knelt beside her.
"He knows."
"You think so?"
"I know so."
"How?"
"Because you're his daughter. Because you carry him with you. Because every time you love, every time you build, every time you survive – he's there."
---
She leaned her head on his shoulder.
"I want to be better."
"You already are."
"I want to be stronger."
"You already are."
"I want to be the woman he thought I could be."
He kissed her forehead.
"You already are."
---
They stayed in the garden until the stars came out.
Then they went inside.
Lena was still asleep.
Christabel stood over her crib.
Watching her chest rise and fall.
"I'm going to tell you about him," she whispered. "Your grandfather. About the good parts. About the way he laughed. About the way he loved."
She touched Lena's cheek.
"I'm going to make sure you know where you came from."
---
Damien appeared in the doorway.
"She's asleep."
"She's perfect."
"She's ours."
He walked to her.
Took her hand.
"Come to bed."
"I'm not tired."
"Then come watch the stars."
---
They sat on the balcony.
The city was dark.
The stars were bright.
"I'm proud of you," Damien said.
"For what?"
"For going to the grave. For facing the past. For not running."
"I wanted to run."
"But you didn't."
"I almost did."
"But you didn't."
---
She leaned her head on his shoulder.
"We're going to be okay."
"We're going to be more than okay."
"How do you know?"
"Because we're still here. Because we're still together. Because we're still fighting."
"And when we stop fighting?"
He kissed her forehead.
"We won't."
First Line of Chapter 156 (Teaser):
"The one hundred tenth week, Damien asked Christabel a question he had never asked before. 'Do you want another baby?' And her answer changed everything."