Chapter 397

Olivia

“Here you are,” the police officer said as she pulled up to the villa.

Nathan and I thanked the officer as we stepped out of the car. We watched her drive away, and only then did it finally hit me, now that we were standing in front of the place we called home.

“I can’t believe it,” I whispered to no one in particular. “Alvin…”

Nathan’s jaw clenched, his arm tightening around my shoulders. He didn’t say anything, but that was because he didn’t need to. We had just watched our childhood friend’s body be loaded into the coroner’s van, solidifying the tragedy that we had just endured.

“Nathan,” I finally found myself saying, my voice trembling, “I need to tell you something. About Alvin.”

He turned to me, his jaw still set tightly. “What is it, Liv?”

I took a deep breath, my heart heavy with the memory of what had happened in that basement. “He… He tried saving me,” I murmured. “I mean… he did save me.”

Nathan’s grip on my hand tightened a little more. “I know, Liv,” he said. “I heard you telling the officer.”

I shook my head, tears welling up in my eyes. “It’s not just that, though,” I said. “Nathan, he was sorry. Really sorry. I wish I could have had time to see him like that, in his right state of mind, just like his old self. But now he’s… gone.”

The last word came out in a choked sob, and I leaned my head against Nathan’s chest to stifle it.

Nathan’s shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand through his hair. “Man, I just can’t believe he’s actually gone,” he said quietly. “I guess I thought we had more time, you know?”

A heavy silence took over the both of us once again, and the weight of our loss felt almost unbearable. But then Nathan spoke up, determination glinting in his blue-green eyes.

“We’ll give him the funeral he deserves,” he said gently. “Alvin will go down in our pack’s history as a hero.”

“Despite everything?” I asked as I tilted my head back to look up at him.

Nathan nodded, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. “Despite everything,” he said quietly. “All that matters is what happened in the end.”

I managed a small smile through my tears. There was nothing more to be said; and maybe I didn’t have the strength to say anything else, anyway.

A chilly wind blew through the front yard then, and Nathan and I finally turned and decided to head inside.

Inside, we found Clint and Layla waiting anxiously, their eyes filled with concern. They had stayed behind to keep watching the twins, and I was so grateful for them both.

“Oh, thank god,” Clint exclaimed, rising from the dining room chair and limping over to us as quickly as he could. He pulled both of us into a tight hug, his weathered old arms providing more strength than I ever thought possible.

“Clint,” I breathed, wrapping my arms around him in return.

Layla joined in on the hug, tears in her eyes. “I’m so glad you’re both safe. We were worried sick.”

Nathan and I exchanged a glance. I knew I would have a lot to explain as to what Layla was doing here, but it didn’t matter right now.

“Can we see the twins?” I asked, desperate to just see my babies, alive and well, in the flesh.

Clint and Layla nodded, and we made our way to the nursery together. The soft glow of a nightlight filled the room, and I couldn’t help but smile as I looked through the door.

Elliot and Aurora lay side by side in their cribs, their tiny chests rising and falling with each peaceful breath. They were oblivious to the torment that the day had brought, and I was glad for it. Perhaps someday we would tell them, but not for a long time.

But one thing was for certain: they would hear all about their uncle Alvin. And they would know just how much of a hero he was in the end.

Nathan and I approached the cribs silently, not wanting to disturb them. Clint and Layla left the room to give us some privacy, and it was finally then that we let ourselves relax ever so slightly.

Aurora began to stir as she became aware of us in her half-asleep state, and she reached her chubby little arms out with a coo. Without hesitation, Nathan scooped her up and held her against his chest.

Seeing them like that filled me with a sense of unparalleled joy, and it was then, as Nathan’s eyes met mine in the dim light of the nursery, that I knew that everything would eventually be okay.

…

“How did you get out of your coma?”

Nathan and I were getting ready for bed after the tumultuous day, although something told me that neither of us would be sleeping much that night.

Nathan sat down on the edge of our bed, motioning for me to join him. He took a deep breath, his eyes focused on a distant memory.

“When I was in the coma,” he began, “I experienced something... unusual. I journeyed through my old memories, reliving moments from my past. It was as if I was searching for something, and I didn’t know what it was until I found it.”

I listened intently, intrigued by his words. “What did you find?”

Nathan’s gaze met mine, his eyes filled with determination. “I uncovered a hidden memory, Liv. A memory that was so powerful, it broke me free from the coma.”

I couldn’t hide my surprise. “A hidden memory? What was it?”

Nathan was quiet for a few moments, and then his gaze darkened. “It was… about my father,” he murmured. “On the night you and your dad were evicted.”

My heart skipped a beat as I processed his words. I wanted to press further, but I could tell that Nathan didn’t want to delve into it right now. That was okay, I figured; perhaps it was best to just rest.

“So does that mean the hex is broken?” I whispered.

Nathan shot me a concerned look. “The hex?”

I nodded, the lump in my chest slowly rising into my throat. “Jenifer said that she hexed you. And she said…” I paused, taking in a deep breath as I placed my hand over my belly. “She said that the hex was anchored to our baby.”

Nathan’s eyes narrowed, and his gaze found that fixed point on the floor again where he always stared when he was thinking deeply.

“Liv, I…” He paused, swallowing. “I don’t know. But when I found that memory, it was as if something lifted. So I think it must be broken.”

His words gave me a hint of relief, and I let out a soft sigh as I rested my head on his shoulder.

“I hope you’re right,” I whispered.

But truthfully, I knew that there was no way to be sure until this baby was born. And for now, I decided that I would just let some questions remain unanswered.

Because our family was together and whole again, and that was all that mattered.