It was a clear spring day—ironic, really.
The sky was a perfect shade of blue, the kind of day poets would write about, where everything felt alive and full of hope.
And yet…
The Blake family mausoleum stood silent and cold on the edge of the city, long abandoned, the name "Ethan Blake" etched into the forgotten gravestone, cracked and overgrown with weeds.
No one came here anymore.
No flowers. No candles. No mourners.
Just silence.
Until today.
The sound of soft footsteps echoed through the forgotten graveyard.
Amelia White appeared, her graceful figure wrapped in a flowing black dress. Ten years had only made her more breathtaking—like fine wine aged to perfection, untouchable, untamed.
Behind her stood her children.
Aiden and Aaron—now young men, tall and powerful, the very image of what Ethan could only dream of becoming.
Beside them, their little sister, the jewel of the royal family, clutched a small bouquet of white lilies.
The family stood before the grave of the man who had once controlled their lives… and lost everything.
Amelia knelt down, her delicate fingers brushing away the dust from the gravestone.
She stared at the name without emotion, her lips curving into a faint, bittersweet smile.
"Ethan Blake," she murmured. "The man who taught me the price of regret… and the value of letting go."
Aiden stepped forward, his hands in his pockets, his sharp eyes cold and dismissive.
"Mother, why even come here? He made his choices."
Amelia stood slowly, brushing off her dress.
"Because some stories," she said softly, "deserve a proper ending. And some ghosts… deserve to know they were truly forgotten."
Aaron took the bouquet from his little sister and placed it gently before the grave.
"It's not for him," he said flatly. "It's for us. A reminder."
The little girl looked up at her mother with wide, innocent eyes.
"Mommy, who is this man?"
Amelia smiled gently and turned away.
"No one important, darling. Just a forgotten chapter in a story that ended long ago."
And with that, Amelia and her children walked away from the grave, their figures fading into the bright, beautiful spring day.
They never looked back.
And neither did the world.