Chapter 17 - Selene March Loses Her Crown
Selene asked Nora to visit before she began her sentence.
Nora nearly refused.
Then she remembered Celeste.
Fear grows when we feed it silence.
So Nora went.
Selene sat across from her in a plain visitor room.
No jewelry.
No expensive dress.
No hotel staff.
For the first time, they were simply two women sitting at a table.
Selene looked at Nora's stomach.
“You're showing now.”
Nora's hand moved protectively there.
“Twenty-eight weeks.”
“Girl?”
Nora hesitated.
“Yes.”
Selene gave a small smile.
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
Silence.
Then Selene said, “I think about that day every night.”
Nora didn't need clarification.
The corridor.
The necklace.
The slap.
“I was horrible.”
“Yes.”
Selene almost laughed.
“I expected you to say something comforting.”
“I don't think that's why I'm here.”
“No.”
Selene looked down.
“I hated you before I knew you.”
“Why?”
“Julian.”
Nora shook her head.
“No.”
Selene looked up.
“You hated what I represented.”
Selene's eyes filled.
Nora continued.
“I worked in your hotel wearing a uniform.”
“Yes.”
“You thought that meant you were above me.”
“Yes.”
“And then you discovered Julian still watched me.”
Selene nodded.
“You thought I could take something from you.”
“Yes.”
Nora leaned back.
“You know what is strange?”
“What?”
“I never wanted Julian.”
Selene laughed sadly.
“I know that now.”
“I didn't want your money.”
“I know.”
“I didn't even know Arthur March was my father.”
Selene wiped her eyes.
“I know.”
“So all that fear…”
“Was mine.”
Nora nodded.
Selene looked toward the floor.
“I grew up believing losing status was worse than almost anything.”
“Why?”
“My father.”
“Vincent?”
“He never said it directly.”
Selene sighed.
“But everything in our house revolved around protecting the March name.”
Nora thought of Vincent.
Arthur.
Celeste.
Generations feeding fear.
“Then maybe prison isn't the only thing you need to survive.”
Selene frowned.
“What?”
“You need to figure out who Selene is without March Grand.”
Tears filled Selene's eyes.
“I don't know.”
“Neither did I when Julian left.”
“How did you figure it out?”
“I'm still figuring it out.”
They sat silently.
Selene looked at Nora's necklace.
“The thimble.”
“Roman repaired it.”
“I broke it.”
“Yes.”
“I am sorry.”
Nora touched the pendant.
“I believe you.”
Selene's eyes widened.
“That isn't forgiveness.”
“I know.”
“Maybe someday.”
Selene nodded.
“Maybe.”
Before Nora left, Selene asked one more question.
“Will my father be okay?”
Nora sighed.
“He's working.”
“At the hotel?”
“As a consultant.”
Selene laughed.
“He hates being told what to do.”
“So I've discovered.”
“What do you make him do?”
“Attend meetings on time.”
Selene actually laughed.
Nora smiled.
Then stood.
At the door, Selene called her name.
“Nora?”
She turned.
“I should have protected you that day.”
Nora frowned.
Selene continued.
“You were an employee. I was an owner. I had more power.”
Her voice broke.
“And I used it to humiliate you.”
Nora stared at her.
For the first time, Selene wasn't apologizing only for the slap.
She understood the imbalance.
“You're right.”
Selene nodded.
“I know.”
Nora left.
Outside, Roman waited beside the car.
“How was it?”
“Complicated.”
“Want to talk?”
“Later.”
He opened the door.
Nora stopped.
“What?”
Roman asked.
“You don't have to do that.”
“Open doors?”
“Yes.”
“I enjoy it.”
“You enjoy pretending you're civilized.”
Roman placed one hand over his chest.
“I am wounded.”
“You'll recover.”
At home, boxes filled the living room.
Baby furniture.
Roman had ignored Nora's instruction not to buy anything excessive.
She stared at a handmade Italian crib.
“Roman.”
“Yes?”
“How much?”
“Not relevant.”
“How much?”
He looked toward the kitchen.
“Roman.”
“Less than a car.”
“That is not an acceptable unit of measurement.”
He smiled.
Nora chased him into the kitchen.
For the first time, their arguments sounded normal.
Months passed.
The March Grand stabilized.
Nora hired an experienced hotel president while remaining board chair.
She refused to pretend expertise she didn't have.
That decision earned more respect than pretending would have.
Roman sold interests in several companies as required by his agreement.
He started a legitimate logistics consulting firm.
Small.
Transparent.
Boring.
He loved it more than expected.
Their counseling continued.
Some sessions were hard.
Once Nora walked out.
Roman waited in the hallway instead of chasing her.
She came back.
That mattered.
At thirty-six weeks, Nora woke at two in the morning.
“Roman.”
He sat up immediately.
“What?”
“I think…”
She stopped.
Roman's face went white.
“What?”
“My water broke.”
Roman stared.
Nora waited.
“Roman?”
He leaped from bed.
Then ran into the dresser.
Nora burst out laughing.
“You're supposed to be the terrifying one.”
“I am terrified.”
“I can see that.”
He grabbed three bags.
“We need the hospital.”
“Yes.”
“Now.”
“That is usually where people go.”
He stopped.
“Nora.”
“What?”
“You're making jokes.”
“Yes.”
“Does that mean something is wrong?”
She stared at him.
“It means I'm married to an idiot.”
Roman looked offended.
Then another contraction came.
Nora's laughter stopped.
“Okay.”
Roman moved.
“Hospital.”
“Hospital.”
The drive was the fastest legal trip Roman Calder had ever taken.
Thirteen hours later, their daughter arrived.
Healthy.
Loud.
Furious.
Perfect.
Roman stood beside Nora holding the tiny baby.
Tears rolled down his face freely.
Nora smiled weakly.
“You're crying.”
“No.”
“You are.”
Roman looked down at his daughter.
“I have something in my eye.”
“Your daughter?”
“Possibly.”
Nora laughed.
“What do we call her?”
They had debated names for months.
Nothing felt right.
Roman looked toward the gold thimble resting against Nora's chest.
Then at the baby.
Nora understood.
“Celeste?”
Roman smiled.
“As a middle name.”
Nora nodded.
They chose Elena Celeste Calder.
For two women who had once protected each other's children.
Roman placed Elena against Nora's chest.
For a few minutes, the world became very small.
Then Roman's phone buzzed.
He ignored it.
Again.
Ignored.
Third time.
Nora sighed.
“Answer it.”
“No.”
“Roman.”
He checked the message.
His expression changed.
“What?”
Nora asked.
He turned the screen.
A photograph.
The March Grand.
Workers were installing new brass letters beside the employee entrance.
THE CELESTE BELLAMY FOUNDATION
Nora's eyes filled.
Below the photograph, Vincent had written:
She should have had her name on this building years ago.
Nora held her daughter closer.
For once, the past did not feel like something chasing her.
It felt like something finally being put to rest.
But there was one place Nora still needed to visit before the story could truly end.
Her mother's grave.
May you like
And this time, she would not go alone.
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