Under the Veil I Rule (Amara) novel Chapter 357

She already knew the answer before she even asked, but she couldn't let it go—she had to hear it out loud. And now, after asking, her heart ached unbearably. The way Finnian had rejected her, not a moment’s hesitation, flashed through her mind; her eyes were rimmed red. What was she supposed to do now?

After leaving the hospital, Finnian rubbed his temples, feeling that familiar wave of exhaustion crash over him.

Liliana had lost the baby. He couldn’t quite put his emotions into words.

At first, he hadn’t wanted the child. But Liliana did, and she played the “you owe me” card, reminding him of how she’d once saved his life. So he agreed to keep the baby.

Once that decision was made, the reality of impending fatherhood crept in, and with it, a sliver of attachment—if he was honest with himself, he’d started to care, or at least to take the idea of the child seriously.

Now, finding out so suddenly that the baby was gone, he felt strangely hollow inside. At the same time, though, there was a faint sense of relief.

That relief made him feel guilty—guilty for the child who would never be born.

If that child could know that his own father hadn’t wanted him to come into this world, wouldn’t he be heartbroken?

Finnian knew this line of thinking was absurd.

The baby was lost at just over two months—still only a cluster of cells, not even remotely human, incapable of thought or feeling. How could there be any heartbreak?

Yet, even knowing all this, he couldn’t help but dwell on it.

This strange mix of emotions followed him into the next evening. Amara had just finished dinner when her phone rang. It was Finnian. “Amara, are you at home right now?”

“I am,” she replied. “Is something wrong, Mr. Everly?”

“I’m downstairs. Could you come with me somewhere?”

Amara was startled, replying instinctively, “I’m sorry, it’s not a good time for me—”

It was past eight, the sky pitch-black. Being out here alone in the dark with a man built like Finnian made Amara uneasy. She asked, “Mr. Everly, why are we here?”

What could possibly need to be handled on a deserted lot? The whole thing seemed bizarre.

“Remembrance,” Finnian said quietly.

He went to the car’s trunk, pulled out a package, and carried it to the roadside.

Amara watched as he opened the bag. Inside was a small bundle of white flowers and a few candles.

No wonder Finnian had mentioned remembrance. She asked, curiosity getting the better of her, “Who are you here to remember, Mr. Everly?”

Finnian didn’t answer right away. Instead, he knelt down, arranged the flowers, and lit the candles one by one, the flames flickering in the wind.