Chapter 587:

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“When you’re happy, when you’re living your life with Alexander and Victoria and building your future, remember sometimes that you have a sister who loves you. Even if I’m not part of your life anymore, even if we never see each other again, remember that Rose Lewis loves Camille Lewis more than anything else in the world.”

Camille felt fresh tears flowing down her cheeks as she squeezed Rose’s hand one final time. “I’ll remember. And Rose? When you’re serving your sentence, when you’re working on becoming better, remember that you have a sister who believes you can change. Remember that Camille Lewis will always love the best parts of Rose Lewis.”

As Camille walked away from the visiting room, she felt a sense of closure she hadn’t expected to find. The sister who had tried to destroy her was still in prison, still paying for her crimes. But the sister who had built blanket forts and braided friendship bracelets had finally come home.

The reconciliation didn’t erase the past or guarantee the future. But it offered something precious that both sisters had thought was lost forever: the knowledge that love could survive even the deepest betrayal, and that forgiveness could heal wounds that seemed impossible to repair.

In the car driving back to Manhattan, Alexander held Camille as she processed the emotional weight of seeing Rose again.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Free,” Camille said simply. “For the first time in years, I feel free.”

𝖬𝘰𝘴t r𝖾𝘢𝗱 𝗍𝗁i𝗌 𝗐𝗲е𝘬 оո gа𝗅𝗻𝘰𝘃е𝗅𝗌.𝘤𝘰𝗆

The gardens at Victoria’s estate bloomed with late spring flowers as guests gathered under white silk tents for an occasion that felt both familiar and entirely new. Six months had passed since James Whitfield’s arrest, six months of healing and rebuilding and learning to trust in love again.

Camille stood in the estate’s master bedroom, looking at herself in the antique mirror as Victoria helped her adjust the simple cream-colored dress she had chosen for the ceremony. This wasn’t the elaborate wedding gown she had worn for her first marriage to Alexander — this dress was elegant but understated, chosen for comfort rather than spectacle.

“Are you nervous?” Victoria asked, fastening the pearl necklace that had belonged to her own mother around Camille’s neck.

“Not nervous,” Camille replied, touching the pearls gently. “Excited. Ready. This feels different from the first time.”

“Different how?”

Camille turned to face Victoria, seeing her adoptive mother looking healthy and strong for the first time since her cancer diagnosis. The months of recovery had been good for both of them, allowing them to rebuild their relationship on foundations of truth rather than the secrets that had almost destroyed them.

“The first time I married Alexander, I was marrying the man I thought he was. Today I’m marrying the man I know he is — flaws and mistakes and all.” Camille’s voice carried a certainty that hadn’t been there during her first wedding. “I’m marrying someone who has hurt me and disappointed me, but who has also fought for us when it mattered most.”

Victoria smiled, remembering her own second chance at love after her husband’s death. “That’s what real love looks like. Not the fairy tale version where everything is perfect, but the grown-up version where you choose each other despite knowing exactly who you’re choosing.”

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