Chapter 67 The Roots That Ground Us

• The sun over Langley Bay had risen soft and golden, casting light on the cottage where truths had been buried for decades. Emma stood on the porch, fingers wrapped around a chipped mug of tea Rebecca had brewed, watching waves roll lazily against the rocks below. The sea looked endless, but for the first time, she felt grounded.
• Inside, Lila was still asleep on the floral couch, curled up in one of Rebecca’s hand-knit throws. The night before had gone late—too many tears, too many stories, and just enough laughter to hint that healing had begun.
• Rebecca stepped beside her now, her own mug in hand. She didn’t speak at first, just breathed in the ocean air, as if reacquainting herself with the present.