35. Cara

Chapter thirty-five

Cara

T he soft weight of Onyx in my arms anchors me to reality. Her tiny fingers curl around mine, impossibly small yet strong. I trace the delicate whorls of her fingerprints, marveling at their uniqueness. I breathe in her scent—new life and endless possibility—and for a moment, the world fades away.

I study her face, memorizing every detail. The slight bump on her button nose, inherited from June. The curve of her lips, a mirror of my own. Her eyelashes, impossibly long, flutter against her cheeks as she dreams. What does she see in those newborn dreams? A world unmarred by pain and betrayal? I hope so.

Reality creeps back in, harsh and unforgiving. The ache in my body is a constant reminder of the ordeal we've been through. Each shift sends a dull throb through my core, a reminder of the violence that brought Onyx into this world.

I glance at June, hovering nearby. The shadows under his eyes are deep purple bruises, a testament to sleepless nights and unspoken terrors. His gaze darts from Onyx to the door and back again, ever-watchful. The set of his shoulders speaks of a man ready to fight at a moment's notice.

Despite his best efforts, the lingering scent of gunpowder and blood clings to him. It's faint, probably unnoticeable to anyone else, but to me, it's a stark reminder of what he had to do to keep us safe. No matter how many times he showers, I wonder if that scent will ever truly fade.

We're safe. We're together. But at what cost?

A soft knock at the door jolts me from my reverie. June tenses, his hand instinctively reaching for a weapon that's no longer there. I watch his fingers flex, grasping at empty air. Old habits die hard, and some wounds take longer to heal than others.

"It's just me," Natalie's voice filters through, soothing our frayed nerves.

June's shoulders relax a fraction, but the wariness doesn't leave his eyes. He moves to open the door, positioning himself between me and potential danger. Always the protector.

Natalie enters, a whirlwind of designer perfume and carefully controlled chaos. Her Louboutins click against the linoleum, a sharp contrast to the hushed atmosphere of the hospital room. She's dressed impeccably as always, but I notice the slight smudge in her eyeliner, the way her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. Even Natalie isn't immune to the strain of recent events.

Her eyes soften as they land on Onyx, a genuine warmth spreading across her features. "How are our girls doing?" she asks, perching on the edge of the bed. The mattress dips slightly under her weight, and I'm suddenly aware of how small this room is, how confined.

I manage a smile, small but genuine. "We're hanging in there. Aren't we, little one?" I coo, stroking Onyx's downy cheek. Her skin is impossibly soft beneath my fingertips, a reminder of her fragility and the enormous responsibility we now bear.

Natalie's gaze flicks to June, a silent conversation passing between them. It's subtle—a slight narrowing of her eyes, a nearly imperceptible nod from him—but I catch it. My heart rate picks up, a staccato beat against my ribs. "What is it?" I demand, tightening my hold on Onyx. Her warm weight is comforting against my chest. "What's happened?"

June moves closer, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder. The warmth of his touch seeps through my thin hospital gown, grounding me. "It's over, Cara," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "We got them all out. Elaine's facility... it's done."

The words hit me like a physical blow. Relief and guilt war in my chest, making it hard to breathe. "All of them?" I whisper, hardly daring to hope. "Even the... the other women?"

Natalie nods, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Every last one. They're safe, Cara. Getting the help they need."

A sob bubbles up in my throat, and I bury my face in my daughter's soft hair. We did it. We actually did it. The nightmare is over.

But as the initial wave of relief passes, darker thoughts creep in. How many lives were destroyed before we could stop it? How many children will grow up never knowing their birth mothers, forever scarred by Elaine's twisted legacy?

"Hey." June's voice cuts through the spiral of my thoughts. He cups my face, forcing me to meet his gaze. "I know that look. Don't go there, baby. We did what we could. We won."

I lean into his touch, drawing strength from his unwavering certainty. "I know," I whisper. "I just... I wish we could have done more. Sooner."

"You did everything you could," Natalie interjects, her voice firm. "Both of you. And now..." She gestures to the baby in my arms. "Now you focus on her. On your family. Let us handle the rest."

As if on cue, the baby starts to fuss. I shift her to my breast, marveling at how natural it feels, how right. June watches us with a look of awe that makes my heart clench.

"She needs a name," he says softly, reaching out to stroke our daughter's tiny foot. "Something strong. Something that honors everything we've been through."

I consider for a moment, letting the rhythm of my daughter's feeding soothe me. "Onyx," I say finally. "Onyx Ashley Deveaux."

June's breath catches. "Onyx," he repeats, testing the name on his tongue. "Strong, resilient. I love it."

Natalie smiles, a hint of her usual mischief returning. "Well, little Onyx," she coos, "you've got quite the story to live up to. But something tells me you're up for the challenge."

As if in agreement, Onyx lets out a tiny sneeze. We all laugh, the tension in the room easing slightly.

But our moment of peace is short-lived. Another knock at the door has us all on edge again. This time, it's Judith who enters, her face grave.

"We have a visitor," she says, her voice carefully neutral. "Someone who wants to see you, Cara."

I tense, a thousand possibilities running through my mind. But nothing could have prepared me for who wheels through the door.

Amethyst.

She looks nothing like the polished, perfect woman I remember. Her hair hangs limp around her face, dark circles marring her pale skin. And her stomach... my God, her stomach is swollen with child.

"Hello, Cara," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I hope I'm not intruding."

I feel June stiffen beside me, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. But as I look at Amethyst—really look at her—all I see is a woman as broken and battered by Elaine's machinations as I am.

"No," I say softly, shifting Onyx to one arm. "No, you're not intruding. Come in."

Amethyst wheels closer, her eyes never leaving the baby. "She's beautiful," she murmurs. "You must be so happy."

The words are simple, but I hear the pain behind them. The longing. I swallow hard, fighting back tears. "Amethyst, I'm so sorry. For everything you've been through. If I had known..."

She shakes her head, cutting me off. "No. Don't apologize. None of this was your fault. I'm the one who should be sorry. I let Elaine manipulate me, use me. I was so desperate for her approval, for a family of my own, that I didn't see the monster she truly was."

June moves to stand behind me, his presence a solid wall of strength. "We all fell for her lies," he says, his voice gruff with emotion. "She had a way of twisting everything, making you doubt yourself."

Amethyst nods, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I was so jealous of you, Cara," she admits. "Of what you and June had. I thought... I thought if I could just give Elaine what she wanted, maybe I could have that too. But now..."

She trails off, her hand coming to rest on her swollen belly. The gesture is so achingly familiar that my heart breaks for her.

"How far along are you?" I ask gently.

"Seven months," Amethyst replies, a hint of wonder creeping into her voice. "It's a boy. I... I've decided to keep him. To raise him myself."

Pride swells in my chest. "That's wonderful," I say, meaning it with every fiber of my being. "You're going to be an amazing mother, Amethyst."

She looks up at me, hope and fear warring in her eyes. "You really think so? Even after everything?"

I reach out, taking her hand in mine. "Especially after everything," I say firmly. "You're strong, Amethyst. You survived. And your son is going to have a mother who knows firsthand the importance of love, of family."

Amethyst breaks down then, years of pent-up emotion pouring out of her. I pull her close, awkwardly hugging her around my daughter and her belly. June's hand comes to rest on my shoulder, a silent show of support.

As Amethyst's sobs subside, I feel a shift in the air. A sense of healing, of moving forward. We've all been through hell, but we've come out the other side. Scarred, yes. Changed, undoubtedly. But alive. And together.

"You know," I say, as Amethyst wipes her eyes, "Onyx is going to need friends. People who understand where she comes from, the legacy she carries."

Amethyst's eyes widen with understanding. "You mean...?"

I nod, a smile tugging at my lips. "I think these cousins should grow up together, don't you? Family is what we make it, after all."

June squeezes my shoulder, and I know he understands. We're breaking the cycle. Creating something new from the ashes of Elaine's destruction.

As the sun sets outside our window, casting a warm glow over the room, I feel a sense of peace settle over me. It's not perfect. We still have a long road ahead of us—therapy, rebuilding, learning to trust again. But we're not alone.

I look down at Onyx, sleeping peacefully in my arms. At June, his eyes full of love and promise. At Amethyst, broken but healing, a new life growing within her.

This is our family now. Messy, complicated, born of pain but stronger for it. And as I drift off to sleep, surrounded by the people I love, I know one thing with absolute certainty:

We're going to be okay.

I nod, adjusting my grip on Onyx. The elephant in the room grows larger with each passing moment. No one's mentioned Elaine or that night, but her presence haunts us like a malevolent ghost. I catch June's eyes darting to the shadows, his jaw clenching rhythmically. Even Amethyst seems to shrink into herself, her hand protectively cradling her swollen belly.

A commotion in the hallway breaks the tense silence. Familiar voices filter through—loud, boisterous, and unmistakably family.

"I swear to God, Song, if you drop that casserole—" Sonya's exasperated tone carries clearly.

"Relax, sis! I've got the culinary skills of a—" Song's retort is cut off by a yelp, followed by Louis's rich laughter.

"Children, behave," my mother's voice, warm and authoritative, silences them all.

The door bursts open, and suddenly our quiet room is filled with noise, color, and the overwhelming scent of my mother's legendary lasagna.

"Cara!" Sonya squeals, rushing to my bedside. Her eyes widen as they land on Onyx. "Oh my God, she's perfect."

Song peers over her shoulder, his usual mischievous grin softening. "Damn, sis. You and June make some cute babies."

Louis hangs back, his arm around my mother's shoulders. Their eyes are suspiciously bright as they take in the scene.

"Well," my mom says, her voice thick with emotion, "aren't you going to introduce us to our granddaughter?"

I smile, feeling tears prick at my eyes. "Everyone, meet Onyx Ashley Deveaux."

There's a collective intake of breath. The name carries weight, acknowledging everything we've been through without speaking it aloud.

"Onyx," my mother repeats, moving closer. She reaches out, her weathered hand gently stroking the baby's cheek. "A perfect name for a perfect girl."

June clears his throat, clearly fighting back his own emotions. "Would you like to hold her... Nonna?"

My mother's eyes fill with tears as she carefully takes Onyx into her arms. "Oh, mia bella," she coos, rocking gently. "You have no idea how loved you are."

As my family crowds around, cooing over Onyx and peppering us with questions, I notice Amethyst trying to slip away unnoticed.

"Wait," I call out, causing everyone to turn. Amethyst freezes, looking like a deer caught in headlights. "Everyone, this is Amethyst. She's... she's family too."

The silence that follows is deafening. I can see the questions in their eyes, the pieces clicking into place as they take in Amethyst's pregnant form and haunted expression.

It's Song who breaks the tension, stepping forward with his trademark grin. "Well, any family of Cara's is family of ours. You like lasagna, Amethyst? Because Mama Rosa here makes the best in the city."

Amethyst blinks, clearly thrown by the warm welcome. "I... yes, I love lasagna."

"Good," my mother says firmly, passing Onyx to Louis so she can take charge. "Because you look like you could use a good meal. Both of you," she adds, eyeing me critically.

As my mother bustles about, setting up an impromptu feast, I feel June's arms wrap around me from behind. He buries his face in my hair, inhaling deeply.

"You okay?" I murmur, leaning back into his solid warmth.

He's quiet for a moment, and I can almost hear the war raging in his mind. "I keep expecting her to walk through that door," he finally admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "Elaine. To take it all away again."

I turn in his arms, cupping his face in my hands. "She can't hurt us anymore, June. She's gone."

The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. None of us have said it out loud yet, haven't acknowledged the brutal reality of that night.

"I keep expecting her to come back," he finally admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "Elaine. To take it all away again."

I turn in his arms, cupping his face in my hands. "She can't hurt us anymore, June. She's gone."

The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. None of us have said it out loud yet, haven't acknowledged the brutal reality of that night. Instead, we find solace in each other's presence, in the chaotic comfort of family.

"Hey, lovebirds!" Song's voice breaks through our moment. "You gonna join us, or do we have to eat all this lasagna ourselves?"

June pulls back, wiping his eyes quickly. But as he turns to face our family, I see a flicker of something in his gaze. A lightness that's been missing for far too long.

We join the others, squeezing around the small hospital table. It's chaos—elbows knocking, voices overlapping, Onyx fussing as she's passed from arm to arm. But it's our chaos. Our family.

As I watch June laugh at one of Song's terrible jokes, his arm slung casually around Amethyst's shoulders, I feel a weight lift from my chest. We're not okay, not yet. The road ahead is long and fraught with challenges.

But we're here. We're alive. And we're together.

Onyx starts to cry, her tiny face scrunching up in displeasure. Without missing a beat, June scoops her up, cradling her against his chest with a gentleness that makes my heart ache.

"Shh, little Onyx," he murmurs, swaying gently. "Daddy's got you. You're safe now. We all are."

And as I watch my daughter settle in her father's arms, I know it's true. Whatever comes next, whatever storms we have to weather, we'll face it as one.

Because that's what family does. And God help anyone who tries to tear us apart again.