Things change around the 11-year-old orphans from Grace Field as they approach their twelfth year of life.
✦ Will these four eldest children, who have placed so much faith in their sole guardian, Isabella, be able to betray that trust after learnin...
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Chapter Twenty-Four | Burning Anger
[Narrator]
In the subsequent days that followed, Ray found himself enveloped in the clutches of an unfathomable despair. It was as if he had plunged into the abyss of desolation, his heart heavy with the weight of his emotions. The once vibrant spark within him had dimmed, replaced by a haunting darkness that seemed to seep into every corner of his being. In the midst of this suffocating hopelessness, an idea began to take shape within his mind – a chilling plan that whispered of an unthinkable end, a plan that held the word "suicide" at its core.
The world around him had lost its color and significance, much like the loss he felt for Ninelie. They were both gone, leaving behind a void that could never truly be filled. Amd Norman, who had been a beacon of strength and camaraderie, had been taken away, leaving Ray to grapple with the crushing weight of his own failures. He had sworn to protect both his family and his dearest friend Ninelie, but fate had cruelly intervened, and he found himself staring at the shattered pieces of his promises.
In the dimly lit dining room, Ray sat in a state of quiet contemplation, his head bowed as if unable to bear the weight of his own thoughts. The room was a symphony of shadows and muted light, the slow and rhythmic ticking of the clock the only audible companion to his solitude. With a sense of both longing and sorrow, his fingers clutched onto a photograph of Ninelie, the image a testament to the innocence that had once graced their lives.
In a hushed tone that carried the weight of a thousand emotions, Ray's voice wafted through the air like a melancholic melody. "Happy Birthday to us, Ninelie," he murmured, his grip on the photograph tightening as if he could bridge the temporal chasm that separated them. Twelve years had come and gone, and yet the memory of their shared moments lingered as a poignant reminder of the passage of time.
Amidst the quietude, Ray's lips parted to release a tender hum, a lullaby that resonated with the echoes of forgotten days. He turned the pages of a well-worn book, his eyes tracing the familiar words even as his mind wandered through the corridors of memory. It was in this tender interlude that the symphony of his solitude was disrupted – a gentle cadence of footsteps, accompanied by the rhythmic thumping of crutches against the floor.
"Ray." Emerging from the shadows, an orange-haired girl stepped into view.
"What are you doing here so late?" She asked.
His response was silence, eyes focused on the pages of his book. With determined steps, Emma navigated the space with her crutches.
Emma smiled, "Happy birthday, Ray, and to Ninelie too."
