Chapter 438 Hard Choices To Make


    By the time Everett’s ne touched down in Celosia, Quinn had just cut away the rigid cast from her right leg.


    Thanks to her exceptional constitution, the bone had healed together faster than anyone expected.


    Without the cast, she no longer needed crutches. As long as she avoided running or jumping, she could walk slowly without any problem.


    Everett adjusted his cor. “Why don’t you stay in Fane Manor for a while?”


    Although Quinn and Rowan had not yet been formally introduced to Margaret, Everett had already informed every servant in the household.


    Thus, when Quinn stepped through the arched doorway of Fane Manor that afternoon, a line of housekeepers bowed low and greeted her with reverence, acknowledging her as the daughter of the Fane family.


    Quinn shook her head gently. “I’ll pass on staying at Fane Manor. For now, I n to live with Julius. Besides, after reuniting with Grandma, I intend to return to Azania. But don’t worry. I’ll visit Celosia often, to see you and her.”


    Everett understood at once. His niece’s words were a gentle signal that she would eventually settle in Azania.


    Then again, it made perfect sense. Quinn had been born and raised in Azania; her friends, her memories–perhaps even her heart–remained rooted there, so why would she settle down in


    Celosia?


    “In that case,e back often,” Everett said, tone firm yet warm. “You will always be the daughter of the Fane family.”


    Quinn lowered her gaze. “I will. Uncle Everett, where is Grandma? When can I finally meet her and let her know who I am?”


    “Your grandmother’s condition has been unstable these past days,” Everett exined. “She’s still under observation at the hospital. Once her evens out, I’ll tell her, bit by bit, about


    your mother–and then arrange your reunion.”


    Wood


    Quinn nodded, her fingers curling around the polished banister.


    Everett rose from his chair. “Would you like to see your mother’s room?”


    The question caught Quinn off guard and her breath hitched. <i>Mom’s </i><i>room</i>? <fna86a> ???s ??????? ?s ?????? ?? Find?Novel</fna86a>


    Everett walked ahead, voice echoing quietly through the corridor. “In every residence the Fane family has <b>ever </b>owned–no matter how many times we move or renovate–there is always a room kept for your mother.”


    Quinn stood, smoothed her skirt, and trailed after her uncle along the silent corridor. They climbed to the third floor, their footsteps echoing softly in the manor until he paused before a closed bedroom door.


    When Quinn pressed thetch and pushed, a hush of warm beige rolled out to greet her. The room felt tender and still, its tasteful decor wrapped in the quietfort of memories too delicate to disturb.


    On one wall hung a life–size photograph of a child no older than four, captured midughter as though frozen sunlight lived on the print.


    Quinn’s breath hitched. She recognized the round cheeks and the bright eyes. The little girl was her mother, Arlene.


    In the photo, the girl clutched a plush brown bear. That same bear now rested on the neatly made bed, its fur faded to a weary sepia that spoke of countless nights loved almost threadbare.


    Scattered around the room were miniature trains, wooden blocks, and tin soldiers, treasures from some long–gone nursery silently keeping watch.


    Everett’s voice softened behind her. “Every toy you see once belonged to your mother when she was little,” he said, as if handling the past with velvet gloves.


    The toys had survived decades. Even with the family’s careful upkeep, they could not escape the quiet vandalism of time. Edges were frayed, paint dulled, yet their charm endured.


    Everett crossed his arms gently. “If you like this space, you can stay here whenever you visit the manor. It holds so many pieces of your mother’s childhood. Take your time to explore them.”


    Quinn blinked, surprised. “Y–You mean I can actually sleep here?”


    Everett merely nodded, opened a tall wardrobe, and stepped aside so the light could pour in. To Quinn’s surprise, the first shelf held tiny dresses from another era, theirce yellowed with age, while the remaining space was lined with brand–new adult garments—each design prepared in small, medium, andrge.


    “These clothes… Whose are they?”


    “Your grandmother chose every single piece,” Everett exined, running a hand over the fabrics, “She updates the wardrobe every year while her mind is still clear. She doesn’t know what shape your mother might be now, so she orders each design in three sizes–small, medium,rge–hoping at least one will fit when they meet again.”


    He then guided Quinn to the vanity. Beside the mirror sat apact safe. Still within her view, Everett keyed in the code without hiding a single digit, as though secrecy had no ce between them.


    The door clicked open to reveal three sizable jewelry cases, each lined with velvet and gleaming.


    When Everett lifted the lids, cascades of diamonds, sapphires, and lustrous pearls caught the light, each piece exuding the quiet authority of old money.


    On top of that, none of them looked ordinary. Every sp and setting seemed crafted for royalty.


    By Quinn’s rough calction, the jewelry was worth at least billions, and she could feel her pulse quickening despite herself.