Return Of The Real Heiress: Secrets And Masks novel Chapter 2

Cherise stood in the lobby, her world shattered into a million pieces. By her side, Dennis Young and Bella Young, the family's steadfast housekeepers, their eyes brimming with unshed tears, stood as pillars of support amidst the chaos.

Bella's voice wavered with feeling as she said, "Ms. Garcia was a good soul. Heaven seems so merciless, taking what we cherish most."

"I can't help but feel for Ms. Leach," Dennis murmured, his eyes filled with sorrow as he looked at Cherise, his head shaking slightly in silent acknowledgment of the double loss she'd endured—the loss of her mother in her youth and now her grandmother.

A month ago, after a peaceful dinner, Cherise's grandmother went for her usual walk by the creek. A sudden rainstorm overflowed the mountain reservoir. Spotting two kids in danger, she tried to warn them, but it was too late— one had already fallen into the surging waters.

In a heartbeat, Cherise's grandmother had plunged into the raging torrent, rescuing the child and guiding him to cling to the vines. But the relentless current was too much for her elderly frame.

Residents from the area quickly acted, rescuing the child from the swift waters, but by the time they turned their attention back, Cherise's grandmother had been tragically carried away.

Cherise reached the site, only to be met with a reality she couldn't alter.

*****

Dennis approached Cherise with a soft step. "Ms. Leach, you must find your strength. Ms. Garcia would want you to endure, not be consumed by sorrow."

Bella chimed in, her voice gentle, "Remember how painting soothed you in the past? It could be your solace again."

Cherise sat motionless, huddled in front of her grandmother's portrait.

Dennis, with a heavy sigh, stepped forward. "Ms. Garcia left this for you," he murmured.

At that, Cherise lifted her head, her eyes puffy and bloodshot from crying, and slowly stood up.

Dennis presented Cherise with a finely wrought wooden box, the heft of it settling into her hands with a sense of significance.

Among the photos was one of a tender scene: a dignified woman in a red dress, holding a small girl with a shy smile and dimples at the gates of an elementary school. It was Cherise and her grandmother, captured in a moment of pride and joy.

Flipped to the back, there was a note in her grandmother's elegant script: "My dear Cherise begins her school journey at five and a half, as bright as her mother before her. I am filled with pride."

Another snapshot captured Cherise on her 18th birthday, beaming in a soft pink dress, her radiance glowing with youthful beauty. Beside her, her grandmother stood tall, exuding an air of grace and poise.

The inscription on the photo's reverse read: "My Cherise, as you step into adulthood today, may your life bloom with the same exquisite beauty that has graced mine, singular and beyond compare!"

As each photo brought back a fresh memory, Cherise felt the warmth of their shared love.

It struck her that her grandmother, always full of optimism and happiness, wouldn't have wanted her to be so sad.

Swamped by a whirlwind of emotions, Cherise, worn out, fell asleep on the desk, dreaming of happier times with her grandmother and the distant memories of her mother.