Devilish secretary
Chapter 414 I’ll take care of her

Chapter 414: Chapter 414 I’ll take care of her

Lilith looked at his face — those cold blue eyes that somehow felt so warm now and all she could see was the father she had lost too soon, the one her heart had always longed for. For a moment, memories flickered like ghostly echoes... her tiny hands reaching for a father who was never there, the lonely nights when she had wished for this man’s embrace.

She blinked away the sting in her eyes, her lips parting in a soft breath before curling into a small but certain smile. "Yes," she said, her voice steady but gentle, carrying every quiet ache and longing turned into warmth.

Lennox’s shoulders dropped just a bit, like he’d been holding a weight for years and could finally breathe again. A smile — rare, raw, and full of a father’s love broke across his face. Daisy, who was watching from beside him, pressed her hands over her mouth, her eyes glistening with fresh tears, while Gray squeezed Lilith’s hand under the table, warmth and pride in his eyes for the girl he loved so fiercely.

In that moment, the family that had been broken in so many ways felt just a little more whole.

***

Hannah sat at the edge of the bed, her fingers curled around her mother’s frail hand. The ward room was so quiet that every sound felt like a thunderclap in her chest. The winter sunlight slipping through the faded curtains cast soft shapes on the walls like the world itself was trying to be gentle for this one moment.

"Mom... you called us both?" Hannah asked softly, though her throat felt scraped raw. She knew... she knew her mother’s memory came and went now, like pages in the wind. But today her eyes looked clear — clearer than they had in weeks.

Her mother blinked slowly, her lips trembling into the tiniest smile. "Hannah..." she breathed, tasting the name like a lullaby. "Did I ever... tell you... you’re the sunshine of my life?"

Hannah’s breath hitched. She had read those words in the old diary, the one her mother scribbled in when she forgot. Her mother had written so many things in it just to remember... her daughter’s favourite colours, her birthday, how she liked her tea.

"Mom... you don’t have to say that," Hannah whispered, her eyes burning. "I know. I know."

But her mother shook her head slowly, as if shaking off the fog. "No, no... I must..." She turned her gaze, watery and tired, to Liam standing nearby, the msn who had become her second child without ever asking for the title.

"Liam..." she rasped. He stepped closer instantly, trying to keep the tremor out of his hands.

"Yes, Aunty. I’m here." His voice cracked, but he didn’t look away from her soft, clouded eyes.

"Did I... write it down?" she asked suddenly, her eyes searching Hannah’s face. "Did I remember to write it... that you are the best thing... that ever happened to me?"

Hannah’s shoulders shook as she nodded. "You did, Mom. You did... every time. I read it every day."

Her mother’s chest moved with a slow, laboured breath. "Good... good... so you’ll remember when I can’t..."

Hannah pressed her forehead to her mother’s hand, her tears falling hot against papery skin. Liam reached out, his hand resting steady on her back.

"Aunty," he said, voice low, "you don’t have to worry. I’ll take care of her. I promise you... always."

Her mother’s eyes fluttered. She looked at the two of them — Hannah’s hand in his, their fingers twined tight like the roots of an old tree and a gentle, almost childish smile lit her face.

"Good boy..." she murmured, so faint it could’ve been the rustle of the curtains. She lifted her hand, bones too light beneath skin, and rested it shakily over theirs.

"Take care... of each other..." Her eyes drifted to the window, where snow was melting off the leaves, making way for a pale slice of sunlight. Her lips moved again, slow and fragile. "The sun always comes back... remember that..."

"Mom, please—" Hannah’s words cracked under the weight of her tears. She wanted to hold her mother in this moment forever to keep the pages of her memory from blowing away. But the sunlight only grew warmer, as if telling her she had to let go.

Her mother’s breathing slowed, her eyes softening into something almost childlike. She looked at her daughter one last time — really saw her and then her gaze slipped out the window, to the leaf that had just let its snow drift free.

"I love you, my sunshine..." she breathed.

And then, with a small, sweet sigh, she was gone.

Hannah let out a sound, half-cry, half-laugh.. a sound that broke Liam’s heart as he tightened his arms around her. She pressed her face into his chest, her shoulders shaking while he whispered in her hair, "She knew, Hannah... she knew right until the end..."

Outside, the snow melted under the sunlight, drop by drop, the world already moving forward but inside, that tiny wardroom held a love that would never fade, not even when the pages were all blank.

Hannah’s cry broke the room open like a cracked glass. It wasn’t soft or graceful — it was raw, the sound of years of holding back, of wishing she’d had more time, of loving too much and losing too soon. Her mother’s words still echoed in her head — My sunshine... and they pressed on her chest so hard she could barely breathe.

She buried her face in Liam’s shirt, her shoulders shaking, her hands gripping the fabric like it was the only thing holding her up. The warmth of his arms wrapped around her, strong and certain, but his own eyes burned, the sting behind them growing sharper with every broken sob that left Hannah’s lips.

"Shh... Hannah... I’m here," Liam whispered, his voice rough, his throat so tight it hurt to swallow. He cupped the back of her head, fingers weaving through her hair, grounding her, trying to hold her together even as she fell apart in his arms.

But Hannah couldn’t stop. She let out another choked sob, her tears soaking through his shirt, her words coming out between gasps. "She—she was so good, Liam... she never... she never deserved this..."