Ethan turned to them, his voice softer now. “You saw her. You didn’t judge. That’s what family means.”
He looked at Emma, his hand finding hers again. “You were right, about all of it.”
Emma’s gaze lingered on the empty chairs, the spilled champagne, the broken pearls. “I didn’t want to be right,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “I wanted them to be better.”
She faced the three who remained, her eyes warm now. “Thank you, for seeing me.”
Ethan squeezed her hand, his voice low, for her alone. “You’re more than they’ll ever understand.”
She smiled, small but real, and leaned into him, her cardigan brushing his sleeve. The room was quiet now, the vultures gone, the truth laid bare. Emma didn’t need the money, the estate, the empire. She’d never wanted it.
She’d wanted Ethan, alive, whole, hers. And now, with the world stripped down to its bones, they stood together, unshaken. The hills outside glowed green under the April sky, and the cameras blinked off, their work done.