Victoria Kane stared at the medical report on her desk, the words blurring as her eyes filled with unwanted tears. The cancer had spread faster than expected. Six months, maybe less, was all the time she had


    Her own reflection stared back at her, thinner now, her face pale and drawn from thetreatments that weren''t working. The doctor had suggested stopping them, focusing instead onfort measures. "Quality of needed time. Time to secure Camille''s future. Time to make sure her daughter by choice would be protected when Victoria was gone.


    Her assistant''s voice came through the inte. "Mrs. Lewis has arrived."


    Victoria straightened her jacket, checked her reflection once more, and squared her shoulders. No one, not even Margaret Lewis, would see her weakness today.


    "Send her in."


    Margaret Lewis stepped into the office, hesitating just inside the doorway. The mother of the daughter Victoria had imed as her own. Once, Victoria had hated this woman for her blindness, for choosing Rose "Thank you foring," Victoria said, gesturing to the chair across from her desk.


    Margaret sat, her hands fidgeting with her purse.


    "Your message said it was about Camille."


    "Yes." Victoria lowered herself into her chair, fighting not to show how much the simple movement pained her. "I need to speak with you about Camille''s future."


    “Her future?” Margaret''s eyebrows rose. "I thought that was firmly in your hands."


    "For now." Victoria pushed a small button on


    her desk, and the office windows darkened, giving themplete privacy." But my time is limited."


    "What do you mean?"


    Victoria rarely showed her cards to anyone, but death had


    a way of changing the rules. "I''m dying, Mrs. Lewis. Cancer. It''s spread to my liver and bones."


    Margaret''s shock showed inly on her face. "Does Camille know?"


    "No." Victoria shook her head. "She thinks the surgery was sessful. That I''m recovering."


    "Why lie to her?"


    "To protect her. She has enough to deal with right now. Rose is still out there, still dangerous." Victoria leaned forward. ". And Camille would put everything aside


    to care for me if she knew the truth. Her work. Her rtionship with Pierce. Her own healing. I can''t allow that."


    Margaret studied Victoria''s face. "So why tell me? We''ve hardly been allies."


    "Because I''m running out of time to secure what matters." Victoria''s voice hardened. "And despite everything, you''re still Camille''s mother. She may need you when I''m gone."


    The words seemed to hit Margaret like a physical blow. "You''ve been more of a mother to her this past year than I was for decades."


    "That''s not entirely true." Victoria''s voice softened. "You raised her to be kind. To be strong in ways I never understood until


    lives." I met her. You gave her eighteen good years before Rose entered your


    Tears filled Margaret''s eyes. "And then I failed her. Completely."


    Victoria nodded, not offering falsefort. "Yes. You chose wrong. Repeatedly. But now you have a chance to choose differently." "Is that why I''m here? For absolution?"


    "No." Victoria shook her head. "I''m not in the business of forgiveness. I''m here to make sure Camille is protected when I''m gone."


    Margaret straightened in her chair. "Protected from Rose, you mean."


    "From Rose. From opportunists who will see her as Victoria Kane''s inexperienced


    heir. From her own tendency to see the best in people who don''t deserve it." Victoria coughed, a harsh sound that left her breathless for a moment. When she continued, her voice was rougher. "I need to know no matter what."


    "Of course I will." Margaret sounded offended by the question. "She''s my daughter."


    "She was your daughter when Rose manipted her. When Stefan betrayed her. When she


    tried to tell you the truth and you chose not to believe her." Victoria''s eyes were cold. "Being your daughter wasn''t enough to protect her then."


    Margaret flinched but didn''t look away. "I''ve learned from my mistakes."


    "Have you?" Victoria pressed. "If Rose appeared tomorrow with tears and a convincing story, would you wee her back? Would you urge Camille to forgive her again?"


    The question hung between them. Margaret''s hands trembled slightly as she sped


    them in herp.


    "No," she said finally, her voice firm. "Never


    again. Rose tried to have my daughtered. No mother could forgive that."


    Victoria studied her face, looking for deception. Finding none, she nodded slowly. "Good. Because


    Rose will return. People like her always do. And when she does, Camille will need people who see clearly. Who won''t be fooled by whatever mask Rose wears next."


    "I won''t be fooled," Margaret promised. "Neither will Richard. We''ve read the journals. We''ve seen


    the evidence. We know who Rose really is now."


    Victoria felt a wave of pain wash through her body. She closed her eyes briefly, waiting for it to pass. When she opened them, Margaret was watching her with concern. "You need medical attention," Margaret said. "I''ll call-“,


    "No." Victoria''s voice was sharp. "I''ve seen every specialist worth


    seeing. There''s nothing more to be done." She took a shaky breath. "Which is why this conversation is so important. I''ve made legal arrangements for Camille.


    Financial provisions. But money and power


    aren''t enough. She''ll need family. Real family."


    "We want to be there for her," Margaret said softly. "We''ve been trying to rebuild our rtionship. It''s slow, but..."


    "There''s no more time for slow," Victoria cut her off. "I need your promise now. That you''ll support Camille unconditionally. That you''ll stand with her against Rose, against anyone who tries to use her or hurt her. Margaret''s


    chin lifted slightly. "I promise. I should have made that choice years ago."


    Victoria nodded, some of


    the tension leaving her body. "And Pierce? What do you think of him?"


    "He clearly loves her," Margaret said. "And she loves him. They seem good together."


    "They are." Victoria agreed. "Better


    than I expected. He''s been good for her." She paused. "I''ve made my peace with him. With others too."


    "Others?"


    Victoria smiled


    thinly. "Death focuses the mind wonderfully, Mrs. Lewis. I''ve spent decades building a fortress of grudges and vendettas. Now I find myself... clearing ounts."


    "Forgiveness doesn''t seem like your style," Margaret observed.


    "Not forgiveness," Victoria corrected. "Reconciliation where possible. Resolution where necessary." She looked down at her desk, at the medical report she''d pushed aside. "I''ve made mistakes too, you know. H


    "Like who?"


    Victoria considered the question. "Like you. I took Camille from you."


    Margaret shook her head. "No. We lost her through


    our own blindness. You saved her."


    "Perhaps." Victoria paused, feeling another wave of pain. "But I also wanted to punish you. To show you what a real mother would do for her child."


    The admission hung in the air between them. Victoria was surprised by how much lighter she felt having said it aloud.


    "Were you a real mother to your own daughter?" Margaret asked quietly. "Before she died?"


    The question should have angered her. Instead, Victoria felt a strange urge to answer honestly. "No. I was too busy building my empire. Too focused on proving myself in a man''s world." Her voice dropped. "Sop her."


    "I''m sorry," Margaret said, and seemed to mean it.


    Victoria waved away


    the sympathy. "That''s why I took in Camille. She reminded me of Sophia. Of who she might have be if I''d protected her better." She looked directly at Margaret. "I won''t make the same mistake with Camille "And after that?" Margaret asked. "What then?"


    "After that, she''ll have you. And Pierce. And the tools I''ve given her to protect herself." Victoria''s voice strengthened with determination. "But I need your word. Your solemn promise that you''ll be the mother she Margaret stood, unexpected strength in her posture. "I promise. On my life. I choose


    Camille. I will always choose Camille from now on."


    Victoria nodded, satisfied. "Then there''s one more thing I need from you"


    "What''s that?"


    "Don''t tell Camille about my condition. Not yet. Let her focus on the


    Phoenix Grid, on Rose''s threats. Let her have this time without the shadow of my death hanging over her."


    Margaret frowned. "She deserves to know."


    "She deserves peace," Victoria countered. "Time to be happy with Pierce. Time to focus


    on building something, not losing


    someone."


    "When will you tell her?"


    "When the time is right. When I can''t hide it anymore." Victoria sighed. "Or when the end is near enough that she won''t have long to suffer through my decline."


    Margaret looked as if she wanted to argue, then nodded reluctantly. "I''ll keep your secret. For now. But don''t wait too long. Victoria. She''ll never forgive you if you don''t give her the chance to say goodbye." Vict Margaret returned the smile, tentative but real. "Perhaps we both are, in our


    own ways."


    As their meeting concluded and Margaret prepared to leave, Victoria felt a strange sense of peace. One more piece secured for Camille''s future. One more protection in ce for when Victoria was gone. She watched Margaret leave, then turned back to the medical report. Six months. Maybe less.


    It would have to be enough time


    to finish what she''d started. To make peace where she could, to


    settle old scores where she must, and to make sure Camille would be surrounded by people who truly loved her


    when Victoria was gone.


    Outside her window, the sun broke through the clouds, sending shafts of golden light across the city. Victoria touched the ss, feeling its warmth.


    "Be happy, Camille," she whispered to the empty room. "Be strong. Be loved."


    The words felt like a prayer, like a promise, like a goodbye.