Chapter 141: Only for You to See

“Now, it’s time for you to die, Rose,” Lily hissed, snatching the gun from one of her men. Without hesitation, she aimed the barrel straight at my head, her eyes burning with lethal intent.

“No!” Jacob shouted, his voice desperate, as he dove to grab Lily’s hand. But it was too late—the gunshot roared through the room, its echo drowning everything else. Time seemed to stop. Everyone froze, as if we were all caught in the wake of the explosion.

I shut my eyes, my heart pounding in my chest. This was it. The end. I waited for the floor to rush up and meet me for the cold embrace of death. But... nothing. No pain. No impact. Slowly, I opened my eyes.

Lily’s gaze wasn’t on me anymore. Her eyes were locked onto something—or someone—behind me, wide with shock. Her grip on the gun faltered, and then, like a puppet with its strings cut, she crumpled to her knees. Blood trickled from her side. She had been hit.

“I’m sorry, Lily,” a broken, trembling voice whispered from behind me. I turned, heart racing, to see my mother standing there, a gun shaking in her hands, her face pale. “But I had to stop you.”

Lily’s men stood frozen, their faces etched with shock and confusion as they watched her collapse to the floor, her chest heaving with labored breaths. Blood spread across her clothes, and her gasps filled the silence. No one moved, too disoriented to process what had just happened.

Minutes passed in a tense, suffocating stillness.

Suddenly, Jacob sprang into action. He lunged toward one of Lily’s men, wrenching the gun from his hand before he could react. In the same heartbeat, Tristan swung his leg into the side of another man, sending him sprawling just as he raised his weapon, his shot going wide. The room was chaos—yet focused, desperate.

In the distance, the wail of a police siren pierced the night, growing louder and closer. The end was near. I could feel my stomach churning. The nose is tightening.

But my gaze drifted back to Lily, lying on the floor, gasping for air. Her eyes fluttered, her life slipping away. And in that moment, something stirred inside me—an unexpected pull. Despite everything, I could see a chance, a faint sliver of hope to save her.

One thought consumed me in that moment: I couldn’t let my mother pay the price for Lily’s cruelty. She had only been trying to protect us, to stop Lily from hurting anyone else.

“Lily! ”I rushed to her side, grabbing her wrist, desperately searching for any sign of life. Her pulse was faint, slowing with each breath. Panic surged through me.

“Jacob, please! Help my twin sister! ”The words tumbled out of my mouth before I even realized I had said them.

Without hesitation, Jacob sprang into action. He scooped Lily up in his arms, her limp body barely responding. As he carried her out of the house, the flashing lights of the approaching police car and ambulance came into view.

Time was running out, but somehow, in this tangled mess of fear and betrayal, I clung to the hope that we could still save her—despite everything.

THE VERDICT

“Order in the court! ”The judge’s gavel pounded, but it couldn’t quell the chaos that erupted. Lawyers, jurors, and even the witnesses had surged past the barrier, their voices rising in a chorus of relief and celebration. Tears of joy and shouts of vindication filled the air. Lily Brinson, the woman behind countless unspeakable crimes, had just been found guilty of first-degree felony offenses. The sentence: life imprisonment. She was also ordered to pay fines to each of her victims.

The gray-haired judge delivered the verdict with solemn authority, but the room was a storm of emotions. Among the crowd, Lily’s victims wept with a bittersweet mixture of pain and satisfaction.

From where I sat, tucked in the last row of the courtroom, I could see Lily clearly. Her face was a mask, emotionless and unmoved by the chaos around her. No tears, no sign of regret. She remained silent, her posture stiff, staring straight ahead. There was no remorse in her hollow eyes. Her once radiant beauty had faded—her skin hung loose, her cheeks sunken. The weight of anxiety from the grueling trials had taken its toll on her body but not her spirit.

She seemed distant, untouched by the reality of the verdict, as if this, too, was part of a plan only she knew. The crowd roared with victory, but Lily remained a ghost among them, untouched by their triumph.

THE OLD HOUSE

After the verdict, life seemed to settle into an uneasy calm. Lily Brinson's trial had finally passed, and the weight of it all began to lift. Since day one, Tristan had been a silent observer, always seated in the second row, his eyes fixed on every word spoken in court. Jacob and I preferred the shadows, keeping to the last row, watching from a distance. We were careful to remain as invisible as possible in the courtroom.

I made a conscious choice to keep my mother far from it all. There was no need for her to relive the horror Lily had caused. With overwhelming evidence and nearly fifty people testifying against her, Lily had no chance.

But keeping my mother away from the trial wasn’t just about sparing her the details. It was about shielding her from the guilt and shame that came with being connected to this case. And Jacob had done everything in his power to keep her name away from the headlines after that night... the night she shot Lily. The media had been relentless, hounding us for any scrap of information, but Jacob’s influence kept them at bay, protecting my mother’s fragile peace.

The old house felt a little warmer, but even though justice had been done, a part of me questioned whether we had fully fled Lily's shadow.

As I opened the main door of the old house, the one my father had built for my mother, a familiar wave of anguish washed over me. The house, though freshly painted in a soothing sky blue, had a new face—renovated, modernized. The sleek new couches, elegant dividers, and carefully chosen decor gave the place a different feel, but it couldn’t erase the memories woven into its walls.

Only the old barn remained untouched. It loomed in the distance, holding secrets—pieces of my history that I wasn’t sure I was ready to face. I knew that stepping inside it would be like reopening a wound, a portal to everything I had tried to leave behind.

Jacob kissed me gently on the nape, his warmth momentarily grounding me. “It’s about time to have a serious conversation with your mother,” he said, his voice steady. He moved back toward the door, pausing to look at me with a soft smile. “Just call me whenever you want me to pick you up.” And with that, he left, the click of the door echoing in the silence.

Jacob’s unwavering support had been a lifeline; guiding me through the chaos and helping me keep everything in order. I knew he wanted to stay and help me carry the weight, but there were some things I had to confront on my own.

I made my way through the house, searching for my mother. I found her in the garden, sitting peacefully with her personal nurse by her side. The gentle breeze lifted strands of her silver hair, and she looked serene, as if the storm of the past few weeks had never touched her.

“Mama,” I called out softly, feeling a warm sense of belonging as I joined them. The garden air freshened up her face, giving her a peaceful glow. But it was the small wooden box on her lap that caught my attention. She held it protectively, her fingers resting on its worn edges.

There was something in that box—something I knew could change everything.

Mama turned to look at me, her eyes soft and knowing, as if she had been waiting for this moment. A gentle smile crossed her lips as she held out the box, her hands steady despite the weight it seemed to carry.

“This is only for you to see, my dear Rose,” she said, her voice calm but full of meaning.