Epilogue- The Lavender Heir

Coming home

Epilogue

The hospital room was quiet except for the steady beep of machines and the soft shuffle of nurses’ shoes in the corridor. Sasha sat propped up in the bed, her arm heavily bandaged, the De Burgh brand still raw beneath the gauze.

William was curled up asleep in the chair beside her, his small hand still gripping hers even in his dreams. He’d hardly let go since the police had arrived to pull them from the wreckage of her escape.

The door opened softly, and Lydia slipped inside, her eyes red from tears but full of relief.

“You’re safe,” she whispered, kneeling beside Sasha’s bed. “It’s really over.”

Sasha nodded, but her throat tightened. She thought of Eamon, of Megan, of all they had lost. “Not for everyone,” she said quietly.

Lydia squeezed her hand. “We’ll make sure William knows who they were. And what they stood for.”

A moment later, Patrick stepped into the room, his broad frame casting a shadow on the wall. He went straight to Sasha, his eyes wet. “You saved him,” he said, nodding toward William. “You saved both of you.”

Sasha managed a thin smile. “We saved each other.”


—

Outside the hospital, Heather stood with Steve. She was pale and thin, still recovering from the collapse that had sent her here days earlier, but her chin was high. She watched the sun breaking through the clouds over the horizon, the world looking impossibly normal.

“Cian’s gone,” Steve said softly. “It’s finally done.”

Heather’s jaw tightened. “No,” she said. “It’ll never really be done. But we’ll move forward. For Eamon. For Megan.”

She turned to Steve, her voice softening. “For William.”


—

Weeks later, the farmhouse was alive with quiet laughter as Sasha and William stepped through the door for the first time since the nightmare had begun. Heather pulled them both into her arms, the grief still heavy but no longer suffocating.

Lydia was there, Moschops winding between her legs, and Patrick lingered in the doorway with Steve, watching the reunion unfold.

The future was no longer uncertain. The castle and all the land surrounding it had passed to Sasha. She and Heather, with Patrick and William by their side, would work together to restore it. Lydia and Steve had suggested tying the castle into the National Trust, opening it to visitors. It would ensure the estate remained protected and the money kept coming in.

Sasha looked out of the window that evening at the distant silhouette of Blackwater Castle, its stone walls no longer looming with menace but standing as a promise of something new.

William clung to Heather’s waist for a long moment before looking up at Sasha. “We’re staying here now, right?”

Sasha knelt so they were eye level, brushing the hair from his forehead. “Yes,” she said softly. “We’re home.”

The boy nodded, a small, hopeful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.


—

Later, Sasha walked alone through the lavender fields that bordered the estate. A soft breeze stirred the purple blossoms, carrying the sweet, familiar scent of summers long past. She paused, her eyes narrowing as she saw three figures on the horizon.

Aislinn.

She was smiling, holding hands with Megan and Eamon as they turned toward the tree line. They waved once, the sunlight catching their faces, before they disappeared into the shadows of the forest.

Sasha stood rooted to the spot, tears sliding silently down her cheeks.

A soft whisper rose from the lavender, almost like a voice calling her name.

Sasha closed her eyes and breathed in the scent deeply.

She was home.

The End.  Thank you for reading xxx