Chapter 77
Chapter 77
Rain pounded against the windows of Camille’s office, matching her mood as she stared at the notification on her phone. The message was brief: her parents were waiting in the lobby. No warning, no call ahead. They had simply shown up, expecting her to drop everything and see them.
Some things never changed.
“Ms. Kane?” Rebecca stood in the doorway, her expression concerned. “Your… the Lewises are downstairs. They’re insisting on seeing you.”
Camille set down her pen, her fingers surprisingly steady despite the storm brewing inside her. “How long have they been waiting?”
“Almost an hour. They refuse to leave without speaking to you.”
Of course they did. Margaret and Richard Lewis had always believed doors should open for them, that their demands warranted immediate attention. Even now, after everything that had happened, they expected their daughter, the daughter they had failed so completely, to bend to their will.
“Send them up in fifteen minutes,” Camille said, turning back to her computer. “Not a second earlier.”
Rebecca nodded and disappeared, leaving Camille alone with thoughts she had tried to bury since the Phoenix Gala. Unlike with Stefan, whose visit she had anticipated and prepared for, this confrontation caught her off guard. She had hoped her parents would respect her wishes, would understand that some bridges couldn’t be rebuilt.
But hope had always been her weakness where family was concerned.
Camille stood and walked to the window, watching raindrops race down the glass. The sky had turned nearly black, thunder rumbling in the distance. A perfect backdrop for the scene about to unfold.
Fifteen minutes later, Rebecca’s voice came through the intercom. “They’re here, Ms. Kane.”
“Send them in,” Camille replied, remaining by the window, her back to the door.
She heard them enter, heard her mother’s sharp intake of breath, heard her father clear his throat, that familiar sound that had always preceded his lectures. Camille didn’t turn around.
“Camille,” her mother’s voice broke on her name. “Please look at us.”
Slowly, Camille turned. They looked smaller somehow, diminished. Her mother’s carefully maintained appearance showed cracks, hair not quite perfect, makeup slightly smudged from the rain or perhaps tears. Her father stood straight as always, but new lines marked his face, and his eyes held none of their usual confidence.
“Why are you here?” Camille asked, her voice flat.
“Because you’re our daughter,” her father said, as if that explained everything, as if the word “daughter” still meant anything between them.
“We’ve been going out of our minds,” her mother added, taking a step forward. “Ever since the gala, we’ve been trying to process everything. To understand how….”
“How I survived?” Camille finished for her. “How I became someone new? Or how your precious Rose tried to have me killed?”
Her mother flinched. “All of it. Please, Camille. We need to talk about this.”
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Chapter 77
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Camille moved back to her klesk, putting the solid oak barrier between them. “I said everything I needed to say at the gala.”
“You can’t mean that,” her father insisted, moving closer. We’re your parents. Whatever mistakes we’ve made….”
“Mistakes?” Camille’s laugh held no humor. “Is that what you call it? A mistake?”
Her father faltered, then straightened his shoulders. “We had no idea what Rose had done. How could we possibly have known?”
“Because I told you,” Camille replied, her voice rising despite her efforts to stay calm. “I stood in our family home and told you both that Rose was having an affair with Stefan. That she had manipulated both of us. And what did you do? You defended her. You chose her.”
“We didn’t believe it because it seemed impossible,” her mother said, tears spilling onto her cheeks. “Rose has been part of our family since she was thirteen. We raised her, loved her…”
“You didn’t raise her,” Camille cut in. “You adopted a teenager who had already formed her worldview, who saw our family as a prize she had won, not a gift of love. And you didn’t just love her, you favored her. You always did.”
“That’s not true,” her father protested, but the doubt in his eyes betrayed him.
“Isn’t it? When Rose got a B in math, you hired a tutor and praised her efforts. When I got an A-, you asked why it wasn’t an A. When Rose wore something you didn’t approve of, it was ‘expressing herself.‘ When I did the same, I was ‘embarrassing the family.“”
The memories rushed back, a lifetime of small cuts that had bled her confidence dry. “And it wasn’t just when we were young. When I told you Stefan was cheating, your first instinct wasn’t to comfort me or protect me, it was to question whether I had somehow caused it.”
Her mother shook her head desperately. “We didn’t mean to hurt you. We loved you both equally…”
“No,” Camille said softly. “You didn’t. And deep down, you know that’s true.”
Silence filled the room, broken only by the thunder outside and her mother’s muffled sobs.
“Camille,” her father finally said, his voice rough. “We’ve made terrible mistakes. Unforgivable ones. But you’re alive, our daughter is alive. Surely that’s a second chance, a miracle. Can’t we at least try to heal this?”
“Heal what, exactly?” Camille asked. “The fact that you never truly saw me? That you believed the worst of me and the best of Rose, no matter the evidence? That when I needed you most, you abandoned me for the daughter you preferred?”
Her father’s face crumpled, his carefully maintained facade finally breaking. “We were wrong. So terribly wrong. When we heard about your… your death, it destroyed us. We’ve spent the last year living with the knowledge that our last conversation with you was an argument, that you died believing we didn’t love you.”
“And now that I’m not dead, you want absolution.” Camille’s voice remained steady, though her heart pounded painfully in her chest. “You want me to tell you it’s okay, that I forgive you, so you can sleep at night.”
“We want our daughter back,” her mother pleaded, moving around the desk to reach for Camille’s hand. Camille stepped away, maintaining the distance between them.
“Your daughter is gone,” she said quietly. “Camille Lewis ded that night in the parking garage. The woman standing before you is someone else entirely.”
“No.” Her mother shook her head fiercely. “You might have a different name, a different life, but you’re still our child. Nothing can change that, not even what Rose did.”
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Chapter 77
“This isn’t about Rose,” Camille said. “Not entirely. Yes, she was my executioner. But you handed her the tools.”
Her parents flinched as if physically struck.
“Every time you praised her at my expense, every time you dismissed my feelings, every time you made it clear she was the daughter you truly wanted, you gave her more power to hurt me. You taught her that she was special, exceptional, deserving of everything she wanted. And you taught me that my pain didn’t matter, that my instincts couldn’t be trusted.”
Camille walked back to the window, watching lightning streak across the darkened sky. “When Stefan gave me those divorce papers, do you know why I didn’t come to you? Because I already knew what you would say. That I must have done something wrong. That I hadn’t tried hard enough. That perfect Stefan couldn’t possibly be at fault.”
“That’s not true,” her father protested weakly.
“Isn’t it?” Camille turned to face them again. “When I finally did tell you about his affair with Rose, that’s exactly what happened. You defended them both. You questioned my sanity rather than their integrity.”
Her mother sank into a chair, her body shaking with sobs. Her father stood helplessly, his eyes revealing the truth he couldn’t bring himself to admit, that every word Camille spoke was accurate.
“We’ve lost everything,” her mother whispered. “Rose is gone. The family name is ruined. And now you… you won’t even give us a chance to make amends.”
“Some things can’t be fixed,” Camille said, a hint of gentleness entering her voice despite her resolve to remain detached. “Some betrayals cut too deep. This isn’t a Hollywood movie where the estranged family has a tearful reunion and everything is magically healed. Real life doesn’t work that way.”
“So that’s it?” her father asked, his voice breaking. “Twenty six years of family just… erased? You’re throwing away your entire past?”
“My past was already taken from me,” Camille replied. “The night I discovered my husband and sister had betrayed me. The night men attacked me in a parking garage and left me for dead. The night I realized my parents would never believe me over their precious Rose.”
She moved back to her desk, signaling that the conversation was ending. “I don’t hate you. I don’t wish you ill. I simply don’t have room in my new life for people who couldn’t love me as I deserved to be loved.”
“Please,” her mother begged, rising from the chair. “Just give us a chance. We can start over. We can do better.” “It’s too late,” Camille said, her voice final. “I spent my entire life trying to earn your approval, your love. I’m done trying.”
Her father approached the desk, his proud posture now bent with grief. “What can we do? There must be something. Some way to reach you.”
Camille looked at them both, these people who had given her life but failed to nurture her spirit, who had provided material comfort but withheld emotional security. For a moment, she felt a flicker of the old longing, the desperate need for their approval that had driven so many of her choices.
But that flicker died quickly, smothered by the memory of their betrayal.
“There’s nothing you can do,” she said softly. “Except respect my wishes and leave me alone. Don’t call. Don’t visit. Don’t reach out through friends or colleagues. Consider Camille Lewis dead, because that’s what she is to me.
“You can’t mean that,” her mother whispered. “We’re your parents. That bond can’t just be severed.”
Chapter 77
+25 BONUS
“It already was,” Camille replied. “You severed it years ago, piece by piece, with every dismissal, every criticism, every time you chose Rose over me. I’m just acknowledging what has long been true.”
Her father’s face hardened, his grief giving way to anger, his typical response when he couldn’t control a situation. “So that’s it? After everything we’ve given you, everything we’ve sacrificed…”
“This isn’t about what you gave me,” Camille interrupted, her voice sharp. “It’s about what you didn’t give me. Protection. Trust. The benefit of the doubt. Unconditional love. The things parents are supposed to provide.”
She pressed the intercom button. “Rebecca, could you please come in? The Lewises are leaving.”
“You can’t dismiss us like employees,” her father protested
“I can and I am.” Camille stood firm, her resolve unshaken. “I told you at the gala that our relationship was over. I meant it. The only reason I agreed to see you today was to make that absolutely clear.”
Rebecca appeared at the door, her expression professionally neutral despite the obvious tension in the room.
“Please escort Mr. and Mrs. Lewis to the lobby,” Camille instructed.
“Camille, please…” her mother reached for her one last time.
“Goodbye,” Camille said firmly. “I wish you well, but I don’t want you in my life. Not now. Not ever.”
Her father’s face twisted with a mixture of grief and indignation. “You’ll regret this. Someday, when you’re older, when you have children of your own, you’ll understand that family is all that matters in the end.”
Camille met his gaze unflinchingly. “You taught me exactly what family means, that it’s conditional, that love can be withdrawn if you don’t meet expectations, that blood ties don’t guarantee protection or support. It’s the most valuable lesson you ever gave me, and I won’t forget it.”
Her mother let out a strangled sob as Rebecca gently guided them toward the door. Her father looked back once, his eyes filled with a pain Camille recognized all too well, the agony of rejection, of not being enough. She had lived with that pain her entire life.
When the door closed behind them, Camille remained standing, her body rigid with tension. She had expected to feel triumphant, or at least relieved. Instead, a hollow ache spread through her chest, not regret, exactly, but mourning for what could have been, for the parents they might have been in another life, for the daughter she might have been if they had truly loved her.
Outside, the storm intensified, rain lashing against the windows as if nature itself shared her turmoil. Camille watched the water blur the city lights, transforming them into smears of color against the darkness.
She had survived Rose’s betrayal. She had faced Stefan and sent him away. Now she had severed the last ties to her old life
Camille Kane stood alone in her office, surrounded by the trappings of her new existence, the power, the prestige, the freedom to define herself on her own terms. She had won. She had reclaimed her life from those who had tried to destroy it.
Why, then, did victory taste so much like ash?
Her phone buzzed with a message from Victoria: “Dinner tonight? We should celebrate your clean break.”
Camille stared at the words, realizing that while she had lost one family, she had gained another, not perfect, not traditional, but hers by choice rather than blood.
“Yes,” she typed back. “I’m ready to move forward.”
Chapter 77
+25 BONUS
And as the storm outside began to subside, Camille felt something shift within her, the first tentative release of a burden she had carried for too long. Not forgiveness, not yet. But perhaps, eventually, peace.
