Chapter Sixty Six - The Aftermath

The church was filled with an eerie stillness, the heavy scent of lilies and roses lingering in the air, blending with the faint scent of wood polish and incense. It was a funeral fit for a woman like Cece Rhodes—elegant, understated, but somehow imposing in its own right. The ornate casket, polished to a perfect gleam, stood at the front, draped with a black cloth edged in silver, its somber hue echoing the mood of the room.

The family sat in the front pews, a collection of stoic faces, each one fighting to hide the turmoil roiling beneath the surface. Camila sat rigid, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her eyes locked on the casket ahead, not a single tear in sight. Beside her, Thomas looked as impassive as ever, his jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the proceedings with a distant intensity that made him seem more like a statue than a man.

Their children—Harriet, Cody, Harper, Aura and Jackson. But the weight of the moment bore heavily on all of them. The loss of Cece, the matriarch, was the final thread in the tapestry of their broken family, and yet there was no emotion to be seen in the room. No tears. No outbursts. Just an emptiness that echoed louder than any sobs could.

Harper refused to attend.

Jackson's gaze drifted absently to the stained glass windows, his thoughts far away. The colors from the windows filtered in through the pews, casting fractured light across the cold marble floor. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was still wrong, something darker than just the loss of their grandmother.

Aura, sitting next to Jackson, shifted uneasily, her fingers drumming lightly on the pew. She looked over at her father, Thomas, catching his expression for the briefest of moments. His eyes were vacant, but there was something else there too—something unreadable. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but the tension in the room was palpable, as if every breath was being held by the family, waiting for something to break the surface.

The service ended with a final prayer, but the air remained thick with unspoken words. As the congregation began to file out, the children lingered in the pews, each lost in their own thoughts.

Camila and Thomas remained seated, their posture stiff, as if the weight of the world rested upon their shoulders. They hadn't said much to each other in the days leading up to the funeral, the shock of Cece's murder leaving little room for comfort. Now, with the ceremony over, the reality of the situation began to settle in, and with it, the conversation Camila had been dreading.

"We need to move." Camila said, her voice low and controlled.

Thomas turned his head slowly to look at her, raising an eyebrow in quiet surprise. "Move?" he echoed quietly, as if the word was foreign to him.

"The house. The entire property." Camila continued. "We can't stay here anymore Thomas—not with everything that's happened. Our children are struggling. The detectives are still investigating. We need a fresh start. I can't do this anymore, Thomas."

Thomas looked out over the empty church, his gaze lingering on the casket that had once held Cece's imperious presence. "I don't know, Camila. This is all we've known." His voice softened, almost imperceptibly, but there was a coldness in it. "But you're right. Maybe it's time to move on."

"I don't want the children to grow up in a house where they feel trapped. Where every room is filled with the ghosts of our mistakes." Camila's eyes flickered with something darker, a hint of regret and fear mixing beneath the surface.

"There's too much here. Too many memories. We're suffocating."

The silence between them deepened, thickening like a cloud before a storm. Thomas was quiet for a moment, then he finally spoke again, his voice low but resolute.

"We'll start looking. We can sell the house. There's a place I've had my eye on for a while. It'll be a change of scenery. We need a change, Camila. All of us."

Camila nodded, her eyes flicking back to the children, who were slowly starting to rise from their seats. "It's the only way."

Outside, the children gathered near the car, the air crisp with the cold of late autumn. None of them spoke much. Jackson seemed lost in thought, staring at the horizon as if it held the answers to questions he couldn't voice. Aura walked with her hands tucked into her pockets, her pace slow and deliberate. She had already seen enough of what this house—and this family—had become. She longed to escape it all.

Harriet, her expression unreadable, walked beside her brother Cody, who seemed to have nothing to say, his face a mask of quiet grief. He couldn't even bring himself to mourn Cece. His mind was still stuck on the horror of the murder and the twisted aftermath that had followed.

The detectives hadn't let up. Each of them had been interrogated multiple times, their every move scrutinized. The suspicions of their involvement in Cece's death had only deepened the divide between them. But none of the children had the answers the detectives were looking for, and it wasn't because they were hiding something—it was because they didn't know. Cece had been a fortress, an enigma, and now she was gone, leaving behind only questions that seemed impossible to answer.

They were all trying to move on. To find some semblance of peace, but it felt like they were being dragged back into the past with each passing day. The investigation was still ongoing, and no one could shake the feeling that something—someone—was still out there, waiting.

Camila and Thomas stood together near the car, their eyes meeting briefly. The decision had been made. A new home. A new start. But it wouldn't be enough to outrun the darkness that loomed over them. The future was uncertain, but the past would always follow them, like a shadow.

And as the last of the mourners left the cemetery, the faint sound of a car engine revved in the distance—just out of sight—waiting. Watching. Their storm was far from over.

The Baldwin family's secrets run deeper than anyone could have imagined. As they prepare to leave their past behind, one question lingers: Will they ever escape the shadows of their family's legacy?