Shadows Of A Forgotten Spring (Emma and Alexander) novel Chapter 100

Chapter 100 

Cameras flashed. 

The whispers surged through the crowd, heavy with public opinion, every second weighing greater. 

Then, with practiced ease and grace, Jane stepped back and her eyes scanned the door to the podium for the only person who could save her. 

The room fell silent again as Emma stepped out. From the instant she canfe into view, the flashes intensified to the point of blindness. The air seemed to crackle with energy from a thousand eyes that would dissect her every move. Emma’s heart thudded in her chest, but her face was composed–a serene mask of grace and poise. A brief wave acknowledged the cameras as she stepped onto the podium.. 

Her gaze met Jane’s. The smile plastered on Jane’s face was brittle, stretched too tight, but it gleamed with the sheen of practiced charm. They closed the gap between them, their bodies close enough to whisper secrets, yet worlds apart in 

sincerity. 

Emma leaned in, their cheeks brushing as they exchanged the symbolic kiss–a gesture which spoke to the watching world of forgiveness and reconciliation. For the cameras, a picture of unity, a tableau of grace under fire. Yet beneath the surface, Emma felt the coldness of Jane’s skin, the emptiness behind her eyes.. 

As they stepped back, the room exhaled in relief. The tension finally broke like a wave and was replaced by furious camera clicks and murmurs of approval. The public bought it. Teetering on the brink of leaving the company, the stockholders stopped in their tracks. The tide had changed, they all came rushing back: the Mansons were once again players. 

Behind the podium, Jane’s father clasped her shoulder, his fingers firm with approval. His smile, though thin and fleeting, was the first she’d seen in days. “I’m proud of you, Jane,” he whispered, his voice gruff but warm. 

Jane’s lips curled into a smile, but her eyes flickered with something darker, something unsatisfied. 

When it was finally over, the applause finally died down as the audience began to disperse. Emma walked away from the podium with a heavy heart over the price she had just paid. She could feel Jane’s eyes on her back. Sending chills down her spine, Emma turned to face Jane’s gaze, her cool eyes unyielding 

“We’re even now,” Emma said, her voice steady and firm. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of finality, a line drawn in the sand. 

Jane nodded, her lips curling into a smile that never reached her eyes. But deep inside her, the resentment bubbled, like poison in a slow boil. Even? No. Not yet. Not by a long shot. What she had was worth much more than what she had gotten today. 

But she knew this wasn’t the place, nor the moment for an argument. So she said nothing, her mask fixed in place, as Emma turned on her heel and walked toward her car. 

The soft thud of the door shutting behind Emma. She let out a shaky breath, her fingers tightening on the steering wheel as the weight of the day settled upon her shoulders. 

Annie lay sprawled across her bed, her gaze glued to the screen of her tablet as the press conference unfolded with growing rage and bitterness The image of Emma standing under those binding lights, poised and graceful, ignited a fire of hatred deep within her. Emma’s smile–a mere curve of her lips–was enough to sway public sentiment, to draw sympathy and admiration like a moth to flame. Cameras loved her. The world trembled at her words. Why? 

A sharp pang shot through Annie’s chest as the bile rose hot and bitter in her throat. She read on and on through the tide of comments online with her teeth clenched, her eyes burning with unshed tears. 

21 22 Tue, Dec 1/ 

Chapter 100. 

“Emma’s strength is incredible. What a role model!” 

“She’s too kind for her own good. Forgiving Jane was a sign of pure grace. 

“No wonder Alexander married her.” 

Π 

The last one was like a dagger twisted deep into her heart. She squeezed on the delicate wine glass, her knuckles white. She barely felt the tremor of her fingers until it seemed about to crack the glass. She took a sharp intake of breath, and she released it, heaving her chest. Her mind whirled back to that fateful, humiliating night of the Aurora Honors, still haunting her dreams. Her own words, venom–laced and full of false bravado, came rushing back to her, their hollowness now mocking her.