In Their Shadow: The Daughter They Forgot Chapter 10

In Their Shadow: The Daughter They Forgot Chapter 10

In the years that followed, I stayed at Cascadia.

The raised beds behind Briony’s faculty cottage grew fuller every year.

Spring brought lettuce and peas. By summer, cherry tomatoes covered the trellises, zucchini grew faster than we could eat it, and rosemary and thyme spilled along the wooden fence.

I planted several English roses she loved beneath her window.

She complained that I was making extra work. The next day, a wicker chair appeared beside the

roses.

Later, I wrote about her too.

I wrote about the bread she’d brought me, the porch light she left on, and the tears she hid whenever she scolded me for spending too much.

That essay broke every record on my page.

The most upvoted comment read: [Home isn’t something you’re born into. It’s something you

build.]

The day I reached fifty million followers, I was invited to an awards ceremony.

The platform was presenting me with its gold award for ‘Most Influential Creator of the Year.”

A spotlight filled the center stage. I walked into it wearing a dress I’d bought for myself, while applause rolled through the audience.

The host smiled. “Tamsin, is your family here tonight?”

“Yes.”

Several people in the audience shifted.

I saw Dad, Mom, Leander, Corwin, and Mirelle. They sat near the front, quiet hope flickering across

their faces.

They exchanged looks, ready for a reconciliation. A perfect ending everyone could screenshot and

share.

The host smiled again. “Would you invite your family onstage?”

In that moment, I remembered standing below another stage years ago, waiting for them to call my

name.

They’d walked past me one by one, lifting the cat, leading the dog, and wrapping their arms around

each other. Not one of them had looked at me.

I turned my gaze toward the back corner.

Briony sat among strangers in the dark red sweater I’d bought her.

I walked off the stage and took her hand.

She muttered, “Why’d you make me come? I don’t know how to say fancy things.”

“That’s okay.” I smiled. “I do.”

After a moment of silence, she squeezed my hand back.

Her palm was rough, marked by years of training.

But it was warm.

Hand in hand, we walked back toward the stage.

I didn’t turn my head as we passed the front row.

But with a werewolf’s sharp hearing, I still caught Mom’s muffled sob.

I led Briony into the spotlight.

The host blinked. “And this is?”

I tightened my hold on Briony’s hand.

“This is the family I chose. We aren’t related by blood, but she’s family in every way that matters.

“I used to believe family was decided at birth.

“The pack you were born into was where you belonged forever.

“Then I learned that blood only tells you where you came from.

“Love decides where you belong.”

The room fell silent for one second. Then applause surged, louder than it had all night.

My wolf rumbled softly inside me.

This time, it wasn’t sadness.

It leaned toward Briony, calm and trusting, without a trace of fear.

I glanced over. Briony was trying to hide her face behind my shoulder, the tips of her ears bright

red.

But she held my hand tight.

At last, I understood one thing.

The daughter her whole family had erased finally had a family of her own.