Chapter 316

Chapter 316:

“She hasn’t been caught yet,” Alexander answered before Camille could speak. “But the FBI are viewing the footage from the hotel and are looking for Rose. It’s just a matter of time.”

Victoria’s eyes returned to Camille. “What will you do… when they find her?” Camille hadn’t allowed herself to think that far ahead. Her focus had been entirely on Victoria, on the moment-by-moment battle for recovery. But now, with the possibility of years rather than days stretched before them, the question of Rose loomed larger.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Part of me wants justice. Part of me wants…”

“Revenge,” Victoria finished for her. No judgment in the word, just understanding.

“Yes,” Camille acknowledged. “But I also want to move forward. To rebuild what she destroyed. To show her that she failed to break me.” She squeezed Victoria’s hand gently. “Failed to take you from me.”

Victoria’s expression softened. “Choose life,” she said, the words carrying weight beyond their simplicity. “Choose creation over destruction. Promise me.”

The request echoed what Victoria had been teaching Camille since rescuing her from that parking garage—that true power comes not from tearing down but from building up. Not from revenge but from rising above it.

“I promise,” Camille whispered, meaning it more now than she could have before the doctors’ news. With the gift of time came the possibility of healing. Of moving beyond the anger that had driven her for so long.

Victoria’s eyes closed briefly, fatigue evident in every line of her face. When she opened them again, there was a vulnerability there Camille had rarely seen. “Stay with me,” Victoria murmured. “Until I fall asleep.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Camille assured her, moving closer. “I’ll be right here, Mommy.”

The word slipped out naturally, unplanned yet perfectly right. Camille had called Victoria that once before, had barely acknowledged to herself the maternal role Victoria had taken in her life. But in this moment of shared vulnerability and hope, the truth of their relationship crystallized into that single word.

Victoria’s eyes widened slightly, a flash of emotion crossing her face before her usual composure returned. But her fingers tightened around Camille’s, and there was no mistaking the tears that gathered at the corners of her eyes. “My girl,” she whispered, the words filled with a tenderness few people had ever heard from Victoria Kane. “My beautiful, strong girl.”

Alexander moved quietly to the door, giving them privacy for this intimate moment. As he stepped into the hallway, he caught a glimpse of Camille leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to Victoria’s forehead, daughter to mother—a bond sealed in crisis and now given the precious gift of time to grow. Outside the hospital window, the sun broke through clouds that had hung over the city since the bombing. A shaft of golden light fell across the room, illuminating Victoria’s silver hair and Camille’s bent head—two women who had faced destruction and emerged with the possibility of years ahead rather than days.

It wasn’t a guarantee. The doctors had been clear about the challenges Victoria still faced. But it was hope, fragile but real. And in that moment, as Victoria drifted back to sleep with Camille still holding her hand, hope seemed enough to build a future on.

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