The Heiress You Threw Away Chapter 06

The Heiress You Threw Away Chapter 06

Winter came early that year.

It snowed on my first day at the Restoration Institute.

Elias was in the program too. He’d arrived six months before me. He was assigned to help new students get familiar with the lab.

I was on guard around him at first. But he never crossed any lines. He just handed me my access

card.

“The dorms are on the third floor. The lab opens at eight in the morning. If anyone asks about your/ past, you don’t have to answer.”

I nodded. “Thanks.”

He looked at my hand. The bandages hadn’t come off yet. “Remember to change those dressings.”

I tucked my hand into my sleeve. “Okay.”

During that time, I barely spoke to anyone.

I restored ancient texts during the day. Went back to my dorm at night. I poured every ounce of energy into studying.

Torn paper could be mended, piece by piece. Faded ink could be developed and made visible again.

But the cracks in someone’s heart-those don’t patch up so fast.

I’d jolt awake in the middle of the night.

I’d dream about the estate’s cellar. The shattered pendant. Dante leaning close to me, phone in hand, smiling.

I’d dream about my mother too.

She’d be standing in a fog, asking me if it hurt. Every time, I’d want to say no. But the second I

opened my mouth, the tears would fall.

Elias didn’t try to comfort me. He just left a small box on my desk one day. Inside was a plain silver pendant. A tiny lily of the valley.

I looked at it for a long time. Then I closed the box. “Thank you. But I can’t accept this.”

Elias didn’t push. “Then I’ll hold onto it for now. When you’re ready for something new, you can

come get it.”

I smiled at him. The first real smile.

News from the D’Amato Family trickled in now and then.

They’d stopped protecting Sophia. She was taken in for investigation-distributing private

materials, conspiracy to harass.

The D’Amato Family publicly announced the termination of her foster status.

Everyone else involved in the incident vanished from Chicago. Rumors said it was, the work of the

Don of the Romanos.

Luca went half-mad trying to find me. He sent me countless emails. The first one was only three words: [I am sorry.]

The second one was much longer.

He said he’d uncovered the truth about what happened back then.

He said my mother hadn’t been a homewrecker.

He said he’d been wrong.

He said if I was willing, he’d return the D’Amato trust that rightfully belonged to me.

I didn’t reply.

Dante sent emails too.

He said he didn’t know how to ever make it right.

He said every time he remembered how I’d stood outside that door and heard the truth, hi

to murder his past self.

I didn’t reply to him either.

My advisor once asked me, “Do you really not want to go back?”

I was bent over a damaged ancient book “Not right now.”

My advisor sighed. “Avoidance isn’t a solution.”

hands paused. “I’m not avoiding anything. I’ve just finally gotten to the poncurre 12 Foam

Dose not to look back.”

ree years. I didn’t go back once.

t my hair short.

rned how to go to the doctor alone.

rned how to find my way calmly in a strange city when I took the wrong bus.

rned how to cook myself a steak and pour a glass of red wine on Christmas Eve

spring of my third year, a batch of recovered ancient texts I’d helped restore went on ibition. The institute recommended me to return to Chicago for a joint exhibition.

red at the email for a long time. Then I clicked accept.

s stood beside me. “Scared?”

bok my head. “No. I’m not the one who should be scared.”