Breakfast at the Hastings Estate had always been one of the few occasions when the family could be found gathered in the same place.
It was a familiar routine, one Olga had insisted on maintaining over the years, regardless of how demanding everyone's schedules became. The long dining table was already laid when the first members of the family arrived, with fresh bread, fruit, eggs and assorted dishes arranged neatly along its length. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, falling across the polished surface and the delicate china.
By the time breakfast was ready to be served, most of the family had taken their usual seats.
But several places remained empty.
Maya and Rege were absent, which hardly surprised anyone. Their growing attachment to each other had become increasingly difficult to overlook, and the family had grown accustomed to the occasional morning when the two of them preferred their own company.
What was unusual, however, was the absence of three other people.
Eleanor.
Ivan.
Andrei.
Olga glanced towards the empty seats as she settled into hers. Her eyes lingered there briefly before moving across the table, taking in the faces of those who had gathered.
She said nothing.
Nadia, who had noticed her mother's attention, leaned slightly towards her.
"Rose said she saw Rege and Maya in the kitchen at dawn," she explained. "So it's likely they won't be joining us."
Olga's expression softened.
"Oh, that's fine," she replied, reaching for her glass. "Those two deserve their sweet time. Besides, it's still the early stage of their relationship."
A faint smile touched her lips.
Across the table, however, Roman's attention remained fixed on the three other empty seats.
Julia had noticed them too.
So had Gregory.
He glanced from one vacant place to another, his brows drawing together slightly. Andrei, in particular, was not someone who usually missed breakfast without a reason. Even when his schedule was demanding, he had always made an effort to appear.
Nikolai looked at the seats for a moment before shrugging and turning his attention back to his plate.
Maxim lingered a little longer, his expression unreadable, until the vibration of his phone drew his attention away.
Tanya, meanwhile, leaned towards Nadia.
"I understand if your sister-in-law and your brother aren't here," she whispered, keeping her voice low enough not to disturb the others. "But what about Andrei? He has never missed breakfast before."
Nadia glanced towards the empty seats again.
"I honestly don't know," she whispered back. "I'm as surprised as you are."
Tanya gave a small nod, but her eyes remained on the vacant chair.
There was something unsettling about the three absences occurring together. No one seemed particularly interested in drawing attention to it, though. Perhaps they had all grown accustomed to the complicated arrangements within the family, to people retreating into their own corners when things became difficult.
Olga finally placed her glass down.
"No worries," she said, her voice quieter now. "I'm sure the others are also preoccupied. Let's not bother them. We should proceed with breakfast."
She folded her hands.
"Let's close our eyes as I pray."
Chairs shifted softly around the table as everyone settled. Heads bowed, and the room gradually fell quiet while Olga began her prayer.
Her voice was steady, carrying through the dining room with the familiarity of a routine she had followed for years.
When she finished, the family began eating.
The conversation remained light and occasional. There were a few remarks about the day's schedules, an exchange between Nadia and Tanya, and a brief comment from Gregory about an upcoming engagement. No one made much of the empty seats again.
Still, Roman's attention drifted towards them more than once.
By the time breakfast ended, the dishes had been cleared and the family had begun dispersing. Some headed towards their offices, others towards their respective rooms, each returning to the demands of the day.
The dining room gradually emptied.
And the three vacant chairs remained exactly where they had been.
---
Olga was in her office when Julia arrived.
The room was spacious and tastefully furnished, with tall bookshelves lining one wall and a large window overlooking the estate's gardens. Beyond the glass, the morning breeze moved gently through the trees, stirring the leaves and casting shifting shadows across the lawn.
Olga sat behind her desk, her laptop open before her. She was reading through something on the screen, occasionally pausing to type a response.
Julia entered without knocking.
She closed the door behind her and crossed the room, settling into one of the lounge chairs opposite the desk.
For a few moments, she watched her sister work.
Then she spoke.
"We need to talk about Eleanor."
Olga continued typing.
"What about her?"
Julia glanced at her.
"Olga, their anniversary is on Friday. Today is Tuesday, and we still don't know what she wants for the day."
"The event planner will handle everything," Olga replied, her eyes still fixed on the screen.
Julia let out a quiet breath.
"Olga, she's your daughter-in-law. You know what I'm talking about."
That finally made Olga stop typing.
She looked up at her sister.
Julia held her gaze, her expression conveying more than her words had so far.
Olga sighed.
Then she closed her laptop, pushed her chair back and stood. Rather than return to her desk, she walked towards the lounge area and settled into the chair opposite Julia.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Julia looked at her carefully before beginning.
"You should check on her. I know you still hold grudges over what happened, but it's been seven years, Olga. Seven years."
She paused, choosing her next words with care.
"She has been living with that heaviness all this time. And if we're being entirely honest with ourselves, she isn't the only one to blame for everything."
Olga leaned back.
Her fingers rose to her temple, pressing against it as she considered her sister's words.
"I accepted Eleanor as my daughter-in-law a long time ago," she said eventually.
Julia waited.
"But that doesn't change what she did. It doesn't change how it affected this family, or what it did to Rege. She's simply living with the consequences of her actions."
Julia shook her head.
"Not like this. She can't continue living this way. She shouldn't have to carry the consequences of everything that happened when she wasn't the only one at fault."
Olga's eyes narrowed slightly.
"You don't understand, do you?"
Julia remained quiet.
Olga shifted in her chair, her composure beginning to give way to something more personal.
"She broke up a family that was already trying to survive. Till date, Roman, Ivan and Rege can barely speak to one another."
Her voice tightened.
"Rege was practically ostracised from this family. Think about everything that boy had to go through all these years, Julia. The pain. The loneliness."
She looked away briefly.
"He lost his father."
The words came out more quietly than the others.
"My husband. A man I had known for years. A man who was nothing but kind to me and our children. I never imagined he would raise his hand against Rege. I never thought I would hear him tell his own son that he regretted having him."
Olga swallowed.
"And all because of what? Because of her? Because of Eleanor Sinclair?"
Her eyes had begun to glisten.
For a moment, she looked towards the window, as though the view outside might help her steady herself.
Julia watched her without interrupting.
She knew how deeply the events of those years had affected Olga. She had watched her sister try to hold the family together, watched her absorb the anger and disappointment of people who had once been able to sit around a table without carefully measuring every word.
But she also knew that the years had not been kind to Eleanor.
Julia drew a breath.
"That's precisely why I think Maya might not be good for Rege."
Olga's gaze returned to her.
Julia continued carefully.
"He's becoming increasingly attached to her, and she could hurt him. We don't know much about her background, Olga. We don't know enough about the people in her life or what she's been through."
Olga stared at her.
Then she let out a short, humourless chuckle.
"Rege deserves happiness, Julia. And Maya seems to be giving him some of that."
"But—"
"You're talking about her background."
Olga shook her head.
"The one whose background we knew very well—what happened?"
Julia fell silent.
Olga looked at her directly.
"Did knowing Eleanor's family, her upbringing and everything about her prevent any of this? Did it protect Rege? Did it save this family from what happened?"
Julia lowered her gaze briefly.
"I know," she said. "But let's not forget that Roman approached her first."
Olga's expression hardened.
"And she agreed."
Julia looked up.
"She could have said no. She could have walked away before everything became what it did. But she didn't."
Olga turned her face away again, blinking rapidly.
"She tore brothers who were already barely holding on apart. She drove a wedge between a father and his son, and I don't know if those two will ever find their way back to each other."
Her voice faltered slightly.
"Do you know what it was like watching Rege go through all of that?"
Julia said nothing.
Olga pressed her lips together, trying to contain the emotion rising in her chest.
"He was still my son. He was still the same boy who used to come to me when something was wrong. And suddenly, he was carrying all that pain by himself. He stopped coming around. He stopped talking about what he was feeling. He simply left us to deal with the consequences of decisions he hadn't made."
She paused.
"And I couldn't do anything to change it."
The office fell quiet.
Outside, a bird landed briefly on the low garden wall before flying off again. Olga watched it disappear into the trees.
Julia leaned forward.
"I understand how difficult all of this has been for you."
She reached across the space between their chairs and gently took Olga's hand.
"But think about how it's affecting Eleanor. And Ivan too. She has been living with this strain for years, and so has he. Whatever happened between them, they're still your family."
Olga looked down at their joined hands.
Julia continued, her voice softening.
"She needs you now more than ever. Not because what happened doesn't matter, and not because everyone should simply pretend it never happened. But because she has spent all these years carrying something that has affected everyone."
She paused.
"And if we're being fair, she has been a good wife to Ivan. You know that. Whatever else you may feel about her, you cannot deny the way she has stood by him and the way she has handled her responsibilities."
Olga's fingers shifted slightly beneath Julia's.
For a while, she didn't answer.
There were things she could never excuse. Memories she couldn't simply put away because enough years had passed. She could still remember the effect of those events on Rege, the distance that had grown between her sons, and the terrible things her husband had said to a child who had once looked up to him.
Yet, somewhere along the way, Eleanor had become more than the woman at the centre of an old family wound.
She was Ivan's wife.
She was part of this family.
And she had been living with the weight of that history too.
Olga drew a slow breath.
"I will think about it."
Julia's expression softened.
It wasn't a promise, but it was more than Olga had been willing to offer at the beginning of their conversation.
Julia released her hand and shifted closer, settling beside her sister on the same lounge chair.
"Don't worry," she said gently. "The children will be fine. Roman and Rege will come around too."
Olga gave a faint, tired smile.
Julia squeezed her hand again.
"They're still family, Olga. No matter how complicated things become, that doesn't change."
Olga looked at her sister.
For a moment, she allowed herself to lean into the familiar comfort of Julia's presence.
Then her gaze drifted towards the closed laptop on the desk.
Friday was only three days away.
And for the first time that morning, she found herself thinking less about the anniversary arrangements and more about the woman who would be expected to celebrate it.