Days later, Stephan stood before a door that looked as if the world had forgotten it.
The wood was cracked, the paint long peeled away, the hinges rusted with age and neglect. To anyone else, it was just another abandoned entrance in a dying building. But if Athena had been there, her breath would have caught painfully in her throat. She would have remembered how her brother had walked out through this same door and never come back. How she had waited. How hope had rotted into fear.
It was also here that Stephan had first seen her bleeding and shaking, stubborn even in pain—right before he carried her to the hospital with his heart pounding like it might split open.
Beside him stood Emma, composed as ever, her heels steady against the broken concrete, her eyes softening as she studied his silence.
"I'm here to take you home."
She paused, sensing the hesitation clinging to him like a shadow. "Don't you want to come back with me?" she asked gently. "Or… do you still not believe me?"
His lips parted. Closed. Opened again.
"No… yes… no." His voice faltered, then rose slightly, strained. "It's not that."
She didn't rush him. "Then what is it?"
He stared at the door, at the memories he didn't even fully understand, at the weight of everything he would lose the moment he stepped away. The silence stretched, heavy and unforgiving.
Finally, he lifted his eyes to hers.
"I'll come with you."
For the first time, Emma smiled freely. Relief softened her features. "Then what are we waiting for?" she said. "Let's go."
They turned toward the sleek limousine waiting at the curb—a symbol of a life Stephan had never known but was now expected to inherit.
Halfway there, he stopped
"Stephan!"
The voice cut through him.
He turned slowly, already knowing who it was, pain carving itself across his face before his eyes even found her.
Madeline stood a few steps behind, her posture straight, her expression calm in a way that hurt more than anger ever could.
"So this was the decision you made in the end."
He looked at her, really looked—at the tightness around her eyes, at the restraint she was forcing onto herself. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Then, he looked at the view behind her, his eyes searching.
She smiled then, but it was bitter and brief.
"Don't bother looking for her," she said quietly. "She didn't come."
His chest tightened.
"She really hopes you can finally be happy," Madeline continued, her voice steady despite everything. "With your newly found happiness."
She turned away before he could say a word. "Bye."
He watched her walk off, each step carrying away the last thread tying him to the life he loved. His throat burned. A single tear slipped free before he could stop it, trailing down his cheek.
"I'm sorry," he whispered—to Athena, to the door, to the version of himself that would never exist again.
He wiped his face quickly, as if ashamed of the evidence of his grief, then turned back toward Emma.
Together, they entered the car.
The door closed with a soft, final click.
And with that sound, Stephan crossed into a home that gave him a family—
and took him forever from the girl he loved.