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“Yes. You have caused so much sadness for this family, and you don’t even regret it. Leave, Rose.”

Rose stared at everyone in disbelief for a while before straightening her shoulders, the well-bred daughter of a peer showing for a brief second even though she wore clothes fit for a commoner.

“All right, I shall do as you say, Mother, I shall leave.” She turned to Simon, who had been very silent all along and took his hand.

Agnes found that even though she was angry at her sister, her heart ached at the obvious love between Rose and Simon.

“Before I leave, I should inform you that I married Simon, and I’m with child.”

CHAPTER20

What?! Rose is having a child?! Simon Hancock’s child?

Agnes stood in the doorway, her eyes wide with shock, the words echoing in her mind like a haunting refrain. Rose, her long-lost sister, had returned, accompanied by Simon Hancock.

That had initially shocked Agnes, but it seemed that wasn’t the only surprise her sister and her new husband had in store for them.

Benedict, usually trying to put up a nonchalant front, stood with a furrowed brow and a gaze that betrayed a storm of conflicting emotions. He shifted uncomfortably, caught between the desire for familial unity and the weight of the past that Rose brought with her.

Mary, equally stunned, exchanged glances with her husband that mirrored the disbelief etched on Agnes’s face.

Mary tried to retain her composure, masking any personal turmoil that might have stirred beneath the surface, but it didn’t seem to be working.

“You’ve got to be joking,” Agnes mumbled, a breathless whisper that barely escaped her lips.

Her sister, once the subject of family lore, now stood before them, an unexpected twist in the narrative of their secluded lives.

However, their mother wasted no time in responding. “Rose, this is none of our concern. We have our lives here, and we don’t want to be involved with your choices.”

Agnes felt a pang of conflicting emotions. She had always yearned for her sister’s return, even though she couldn’t decide if it was for good or bad.

Yet, the reality that unfolded was far from the idyllic reunion she had envisioned. The news of Rose’s marriage and impending motherhood reverberated in Agnes’s mind, leaving her grappling with her emotions.

She had wanted to blame Rose for everything that she went through, but she couldn’t help the joy that she would be an aunt.

If Rose was going to be a mother, she would be an aunt, and at that moment, Agnes could feel all the negative feelings fleeing her body. She wanted Rose to stay.

“But she’s family,” Agnes protested, her voice a mere murmur against the currents of stern resolve that emanated from her mother.

Mary fixed a pointed gaze on Agnes. “Family or not, she chose a path that led her away from us. We’ve moved on, and so should she.”

Agnes’s hopeful anticipation waned, replaced by a sense of isolation. The prospect of becoming an aunt, a role she had begun to entertain in her mind, now dissipated like the morning mist. The conflicting emotions within her, a turbulent sea of anger, disappointment, and longing, threatened to overwhelm her.

Benedict, finally breaking his silence, spoke with a measured intensity, “Mary, perhaps we should hear what Rose has to say. After all, she is family.”

Rose, sensing the reluctant willingness in Benedict’s words, stepped forward. “I don’t expect forgiveness. I just thought you should know… about us.”

Simon, standing in the shadows, shifted uncomfortably but remained silent. His presence, a living reminder of Rose’s choices, added a layer of tension to the room.

Rose started to walk toward Agnes.

Rose’s approach, despite their mother’s disapproval, softened the edges of Agnes’s conflicted emotions. The warmth of her sister’s touch, holding Agnes’s hands in hers, felt like a lifeline in the storm of family tension.

Rose’s eyes, reflecting a blend of remorse and understanding, met Agnes’s gaze. “I know how you must have felt after I left, and I’m sorry,” she whispered, the sincerity in her voice cutting through the lingering echoes of past grievances.

For a fleeting moment, Agnes felt a connection, a shared understanding that transcended the years of separation. She wanted to believe that Rose’s apology could bridge the gaps, heal the wounds that time had failed to erase.

However, Rose’s gaze shifted toward their parents, and a shadow crossed her features. “But it seems I’m not wanted here, after all,” she remarked, her tone tinged with resignation.