Celeste had always loved early mornings.
There was something sacred about the stillness before the world stirred. In the Lancaster estate, that silence was rare—but today, she embraced it. The staff hadn't started moving yet, and the children were still asleep. She stood on the balcony outside her room, wrapped in a shawl, watching mist curl above the garden hedges.
In her hand was a cup of chamomile tea. She didn't really need the warmth—it was already warm out—but it comforted her. Like the past wrapping its arms around her.
Like Adrienne saying, We're still here.
So much had changed in the past few weeks. The twins had accepted her. Adrian had kissed her—not with uncertainty, but with a longing that echoed thirteen years of silence. And still, the world outside hadn't yet caught up with what was growing between them.
But it would.
And Celeste wasn't naïve. She knew the storm was coming.
The question was—would they weather it together?
---
Downstairs, Aria tiptoed into the kitchen, dragging her blanket behind her like a cape. She paused in the doorway, rubbing one eye.
Celeste turned as if she already knew the girl was there.
"You're up early," Celeste said, smiling.
Aria shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. I had a weird dream."
Celeste walked over and poured her a cup of warm milk. "Wanna talk about it?"
Aria took the cup and climbed up onto the kitchen stool. "It wasn't scary. Just… weird. It was like I was a baby again, but I could still think like me now. And you were there. Singing."
Celeste felt a chill crawl across her arms.
"What song was I singing?" she asked softly.
Aria thought for a second. "Something about stars. Like… 'Look to the stars when the sky forgets your name.' I don't know if that's real."
Celeste's hand trembled. She steadied it quickly, setting the teapot aside.
That was a lullaby Adrienne had written.
She'd never sung it for anyone else.
Celeste leaned against the counter, her voice low. "That song was yours, Aria. I used to sing it when you and Aiden were still in my belly."
Aria's eyes widened. "How would you know that?"
"Because…" Celeste hesitated. "Because I remember being there. Carrying you. Singing. Crying."
Aria stared at her for a long moment, then finally whispered, "I believe you."
And with that, the silence wrapped around them again. Not awkward. Not heavy. Just full.
---
Later that morning, Adrian stood in the hallway outside his bedroom, straightening his cufflinks as his phone buzzed. He ignored the call once, twice—but on the third ring, he answered.
"What?"
"Sir, you need to see this." It was Levi, his head of PR.
Adrian frowned. "What now?"
"There's a blog post going viral. A gossip site. Normally I wouldn't call, but this one… it's about you. And Celeste."
His chest tightened. "Send me the link."
Within seconds, the article loaded on his phone screen:
"CEO Adrian Lancaster's New Flame: Adrienne's Reincarnation?"
He read faster. His hands clenched as he scrolled.
Someone had photographed him and Celeste in the courtyard, her hand on his chest, his face close to hers. The angle was intimate. The caption was worse.
> "Sources say Lancaster's new girlfriend looks eerily like his late wife Adrienne. Some claim she believes herself to be Adrienne. Is this obsession, coincidence—or something more disturbing?"
Adrian cursed under his breath.
He barely noticed the tap on his arm until Celeste appeared beside him.
"I saw it," she said gently. "One of the maids showed me."
"I'll shut them down," he muttered, already opening his contact list. "Libel, slander, I don't care what it takes."
But Celeste laid a hand on his wrist. "Let them talk."
He looked at her like she'd grown a second head.
"What?"
She inhaled slowly. "Let them talk. We've been living quietly, but we knew this was coming. Let them spin whatever stories they want. We'll show the truth by staying strong."
Adrian stared at her.
"You think this is strength?"
"I think hiding is weakness," she said gently.
Adrian didn't argue. Not because he agreed, but because there was something in her eyes—something resolute—that he hadn't seen since Adrienne's death.
He reached out and touched her face. "You amaze me."
She smiled faintly. "You remember when I used to read tabloids for fun?"
His heart skipped. "You'd read them out loud and make up backstories."
"And you hated every second of it."
He smiled too. "You always made me laugh."
"Then let me do it again. Let me laugh in the face of all this."
He kissed her forehead. "Just promise me, if it gets ugly, you'll step back."
"No," she said. "I'll step forward."
---
At lunchtime, Aiden found himself sitting on the staircase, phone in hand, scrolling through the gossip post.
He didn't care what the article said about his dad. But what they said about her?
That made him furious.
"Delusional young girl plays grieving CEO like a violin."
"She's obsessed with the late Mrs. Lancaster and clawing her way into power."
Aiden closed the phone and stared at the wall.
He didn't need proof.
Celeste was his mother. In every way that mattered.
He remembered the way she cut his sandwiches diagonally, not vertically. The way she hummed when she folded towels. The exact shade of pink she used to paint his sister's fingernails.
She knew them. She loved them.
And the world didn't get a say.
Not anymore.
---
Meanwhile, in a café across the city, a woman sipped her espresso and stared at the article on her laptop screen. Her perfectly manicured fingers tapped the edge of the table.
She zoomed in on the photo of Celeste and Adrian.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Well, well," she murmured. "I thought you were dead, darling."
She took out her phone.
Dialed a number.
"She's back. Or someone pretending to be. Either way, I want to meet her."
---
That evening, Adrian gathered the family in the living room. No staff. No distractions.
Just them.
Celeste sat beside him on the couch, her hand resting on his knee. Aria and Aiden curled up on the rug with a bowl of popcorn between them, sensing something serious but not tragic.
"You saw the news?" Adrian asked.
They nodded.
Aria shrugged. "We don't care."
Celeste smiled faintly.
"But the world will," Adrian said. "So we need to be ready."
Aiden looked up. "You mean like, for interviews? Or people following us?"
"Maybe both," Adrian admitted.
Celeste leaned forward. "We'll take it one step at a time. We're not hiding, but we're not throwing ourselves into the spotlight either."
"Will they say bad things about you?" Aria asked.
"They already have," Celeste said gently.
"But that doesn't make them true," Adrian added. "What matters is what we know. And what we protect."
Aiden stood and walked to Celeste. He took her hand.
"I don't care if they say you're crazy," he said. "You're my mom."
Aria got up too, wrapping her arms around Celeste's waist. "You always were."
Celeste's throat tightened. She pulled them close, holding them fiercely.
Adrian watched from the couch, emotions warring in his eyes.
This was his family.
Broken. Reborn. Whole again.
He would do anything to protect it.
Even if it meant going to war with the past.