Chapter 117 Visiting the Grave
The morning air carried a sharp bite of frost, the kind that clings to the skin before the sun can burn it away. A faint mist drifted over the cemetery road, softening the edges of the light and leaving the world in soft shades of gray.
Bianca sat in the back seat, her fingers clutched around a bouquet of white lilies. The petals were flawless, but her face was paler than the dawn itself. Every muscle in her body seemed wound tight, as if bracing against something she could not yet see.
Beside her, Terrence noticed the tension in her grip. Without a word, he slid his hand over hers. The warmth of his palm seeped through the thin fabric of her sleeve, steady and grounding, chasing away the chill that had settled into her skin.
"I'm here," he said quietly.
His voice was deep, steady, and it settled through her like a sedative, slowing the frantic rhythm of her breathing.
When the car rolled to a stop, Bianca's eyes immediately caught the figure standing beside Glenn's vehicle. The woman's hair was immaculate, her suit a muted shade chosen to project solemnity. In one hand she carried offerings, and her expression was worn with just the right measure of grief.
It was Thea.
Bianca pushed open the door, her gaze locking onto Thea with cold precision. Her fingers tightened around the lilies, trembling faintly—not from the cold, but from the surge of anger that rose in her chest.
"Bianca," Glenn began as he stepped forward, lowering his voice as though the presence of Terrence behind her demanded caution. "If you were coming to the cemetery today, why didn't you come home last night so we could arrive together? Especially for your mother..."
Bianca's eyes narrowed, her gaze flicking to Thea behind him. "And her? You bring your mistress to my mother's grave? Did you even think about how that would feel for her?"
Her voice carried more than grief; it was edged with fury. Fury that Glenn, even here, refused to give her mother the dignity she deserved.
"She's not going in." Bianca's grip on the lilies tightened further.
The truth about that day had not yet been uncovered, but her instincts screamed that Thea was tied to it. She would never allow someone who might have had a hand in her mother's death to stand before her grave.
"Bianca," Thea said softly, lowering her head just enough to appear humble. "I know you resent me, but what happened back then wasn't my choice. I only met your father after your mother passed. I respected Daphne deeply... I wanted to pay my respects years ago, but I stayed away because I knew it would upset you."
Glenn's patience snapped. "Enough! Today is your mother's memorial. Can't you behave, just for one day, and let her rest in peace?"
"If I let her come, that's exactly what would keep my mother from resting," Bianca shot back, her eyes blazing.
"Glenn," Terrence's voice cut in, calm but edged with authority. His arm slid protectively around Bianca's shoulders. "Today is for honoring Daphne. Anyone who isn't connected to her will only disturb the peace."
Glenn hesitated under Terrence's steady stare. After a long moment, he said nothing more.
Thea's complexion shifted between pale and flushed. Her fingers whitened around the offerings she held, but she stayed rooted to the spot, watching helplessly as the three of them walked deeper into the cemetery.
Daphne's headstone was spotless, the engraved letters crisp. The photograph fixed to the stone showed her smiling with a warmth that seemed to reach across time. Bianca knelt, placing the lilies gently in front of the grave. Her fingertips traced the cool surface of the stone, and her eyes filled instantly.
"Mom... I'm here," she whispered, her voice trembling. Tears slid down her cheeks, falling onto the stone. "I've been doing well. I just... still miss you so much."
Her words spilled quietly, the way she had once whispered into Daphne's ear as a child, curled in her mother's arms. Every suppressed ache, every buried longing rose to the surface.
Terrence stood just behind her, his shadow stretching long across the stone. He stepped forward, taking the bouquet Glenn offered without a glance. He set the flowers down beside Bianca's, bowing his head briefly before straightening.
"Mom," he said, his voice deep and resolute, "I'm Terrence, Bianca's husband. You can rest easy. I'll protect her for as long as I live. No one will ever hurt her."
Bianca's breath caught. She turned to look at him, her eyes wide.
Terrence met her gaze, his hand closing firmly around hers. His palm was hot, solid, and it grounded her in a way words never could.
Glenn watched from a few steps away, his lips parting as if to speak—but he swallowed the words. He had never imagined Bianca would bring Terrence here, much less that Terrence would bow his head to Daphne's grave.
In Sovereign City, there were few people Terrence would lower himself for. Clearly, Bianca held a place in his life that Glenn had underestimated.
Glenn's eyes narrowed slightly, thoughts already turning over in his mind.
When the memorial ended, the three of them turned to leave. Just outside the gates, Thea was still waiting. She took a step forward, as if gathering her courage, and reached for Bianca's hand.
"Bianca, I know you hate me, but I—"
"Hate you?" Bianca jerked her hand back, her lips curving into a cold smile. "Thea, you know exactly what you've done."
She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper. "Are you sure there are no loose ends from that day? You'd better hope I never find the proof. If I do... your life will be destroyed."
She stepped back, her gaze locking on Thea's with unflinching intensity.
Thea's face drained of color. Fear swam in her eyes, and her body trembled visibly. Her mouth opened, but no words came.
Bianca saw every flicker of panic and tucked it away. Even if Thea hadn't orchestrated it, she was certain the woman knew the truth about Daphne's death.
Without another glance, Bianca looped her arm through Terrence's and headed for the car.
"Bianca," Glenn said, stepping up to the window as it rolled down. His eyes gleamed with something that had nothing to do with grief. "Since you're here, why not come home for a while? Your sister misses you."
Bianca's sadness hardened into cold resolve.
"Glenn," she said, her tone flat, "you lost the right to call yourself my father a long time ago. And my mother had only one daughter. I don't have a sister."
The vein at Glenn's temple pulsed. A curse hovered on his lips, but when his gaze flicked to Terrence's face inside the car, he swallowed it.
His expression twisted. "Bianca, I admit I've made mistakes. But we're family. Blood doesn't break so easily. You should give me a chance to make things right."
Bianca's eyes swept over him, sharp and appraising. "You're right. Words mean nothing without proof. Show me your sincerity."
Glenn leaned forward, trying to catch her gaze through the window, his breathing quickening.