CHAPTER 57: MAYBE IT NEVER WAS

Erisia froze, her lips parting in surprise. "W-what? In a few days? I—I’ll be seeing your son?"

Seliora chuckled softly, clearly amused at her reaction. "Yes, dear. Why are you so surprised? Didn’t you want to meet him?"

"I..." Erisia fumbled for words, her heart skipping a beat. "Of course I did, but I didn’t think it would be this soon." Her fingers tightened around the quilt still draped over her shoulders, as though grounding herself.

"That’s good then," Seliora said warmly. "I think you’ll like him, though I’ll warn you—Kealith isn’t the most welcoming at first. He can be... guarded. But don’t worry, he listens to me."

Erisia swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. "Guarded... right." She forced a faint laugh, though her pulse was racing. "I’ll... I’ll try not to embarrass myself."

"You won’t, just your face is enough to make up for any embarrassment," Seliora reassured with a chuckle, her tone softening with maternal warmth. "And even if you do, I’ll be there to smooth things over."

Erisia pressed her lips together, unsure if she should laugh or panic. "You make it sound like I’m going to an interview."

"In some ways, you are," Seliora teased. "But don’t worry. Just be yourself."

Erisia leaned back against the headboard, her mind whirling. "That’s the part I’m worried about," she murmured half to herself.

In her previous life, people she met for the first time often described her as polite yet distant. This perception of her demeanor led to a reputation for being cold, which influenced the nature of her future interactions with others.

Seliora let out another amused hum. "Well, then that’s settled. Rest tonight, dear. You’ll need your strength for the days ahead."

Erisia could only nod, even though Seliora couldn’t see it. "Alright... goodnight, Seliora."

"Goodnight, Erisia," came the warm reply before the call ended.

Left alone in the quiet room, Erisia stared at her phone screen for a long moment, her chest tight with anticipation. The thought of finally meeting Kealith Asheborne in just a few days sent a rush of nerves through her veins.

What a perfect end to her day.

Erisia lay down thinking about all the short scenes of Kealith in the story and she didn’t know when she fell asleep.

...

David sat behind his desk in the study, staring at the asylum’s sparse records before switching back to Erisia’s message. His eyes lingered on the contact information she had sent him.

Just then, the study door opened. Shane stepped inside and closed it behind him.

"Are you going to send Sierra to the asylum?" he asked in a low voice. David couldn’t read his son’s expression, only the weight in his tone.

David sighed. "What do you think I should do? On one hand, there is my daughter—my biological daughter. She has suffered for years outside, and even when she returned home she still suffered. And the reason for all her suffering is none other than my adopted daughter." He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them with resolve. "Everything Sierra did... she could be arrested for. She would be sentenced to jail for years. Sending her to an asylum is the only alternative punishment."

Shane stepped forward, "I thought you couldn’t do it."

David gave a low chuckle, weary more than amused. "It’s not easy, but I have to. For Erisia, I have to make it up to her starting now. She deserves better than what she got in the past."

Shane nodded slowly. "Then I’ll transfer the money and prepare the arrangements for the apartment. I’ll also reach out to a realtor in Brooklyn. She should have a choice in where she wants to live."

David’s brows rose slightly, still not wanting Erisia to leave. "You’re going that far?"

Shane’s jaw tightened. "She’s right, Father. She shouldn’t have to stay here. This house has always been a battlefield for her. If you want her to start over, then she needs distance from all of this."

David leaned back in his chair, staring at his son as though seeing him differently for the first time. "You’ve changed, Shane."

"No," Shane said evenly, his eyes narrowing just slightly. "I’ve just opened my eyes. Sierra isn’t the only one who caused Erisia’s pain. We all played our part."

The silence that followed was heavy, almost suffocating. David finally lowered his gaze to the contact information glowing on his phone screen. His thumb hovered over the dial button.

"I’ll call them," he murmured.

Shane gave a curt nod, then turned to leave. But at the door, he paused, his voice low. "Don’t hesitate this time. If you do, Erisia will never forgive you—and neither will you be able to forgive yourself."

The door clicked shut, leaving David alone with his thoughts. He looked at the phone again, then at the family portrait on the wall—one that still had Sierra smiling in it. With a long, shaky exhale, he pressed the number.

The line began to ring.

The ringing seemed to stretch forever, each tone echoing louder in the study than it should have. David’s hand tightened around the phone, his thumb damp against the screen. At last, a clipped, professional voice answered on the other end.

"St. Laurens Psychiatric Institute, how may I help you?"

David swallowed. His throat felt like sandpaper. "This is David Wrenford. I was given this number to make an admission inquiry."

There was a short pause as if the receptionist on the line adjusted their tone to match the gravity of his request. "Yes, Mr. Wrenford. Do you have the patient’s information ready?"

His eyes flicked back to the sparse records on the laptop screen—Sierra’s, barely enough to encompass the chaos she had caused. His chest ached. She’s still my daughter.

"Yes," he said firmly, surprising even himself with the steadiness in his voice. "Her name is Sierra Wrenford. Age twenty-four. She’s been showing escalating patterns of instability—" his words faltered, "—and has harmed others. I... I want her admitted as soon as possible."

The woman’s voice remained calm, businesslike. "We will need full medical history, recent behavioral reports, and the consent forms signed by you as her legal guardian."

"I’ll have everything prepared," David replied. He could hear the finality in his tone. It was like hammering a nail into a coffin he didn’t want to build.

After arranging the details, he ended the call. The silence that followed was deafening, pressing in on all sides.

His gaze drifted back to the family portrait again. Sierra’s smile seemed brighter in that photo, full of the innocence that once was or maybe it never was.

David leaned forward, elbows braced on the desk, both hands covering his face. For the first time in years, he felt the weight of every mistake he had made as a father—both to Sierra and to Erisia.