My life. Eleanor Vance. It felt perfect. Sometimes, I wondered if it was just a dream. Not real. I grew up in Chicago. The famous Vance family. Rich. My parents gave me everything. More. Our mansion in Lincoln Park. Big. Beautiful gardens. A bright pool. A library full of books. I hid there. As a kid.
My dad. Richard Vance. Powerful man. Smart. He built his money. From nothing. Billions. To others, a “shark” in business. Cold. Decisive. But to me? Just Dad. Warm. He read me stories. Every night. Even when he was busy. I remember old paper. And his coffee. He told wild fairy tales. Adventures.
My mom. Catherine Vance. So elegant. A true lady. Gentle. She knew how to host tea parties. Cozy. Private concerts at home. Mom taught me art. Fashion. How to be proper. She was my confidante. All my secrets. School troubles. First crushes. When things got hard, Mom was first. Her arms were always open. To comfort. To soothe.
I married Daniel Thorne. Brilliant lawyer. Powerful CEO. Thorne & Associates. A top firm. We met at a charity gala. First glance. I was hooked. His eyes, so sharp. His smile, warm. Daniel wasn’t just smart. He was the ideal husband. Gentle. He understood me. Every breath. He never judged. Just listened. Supported my choices. All of them. I remember evenings. On the sofa. He’d read law books. I’d read a romance novel. Sometimes, we sat quietly. Just there. Enjoying each other. Our love blossomed. Then Leo. Our tiny son. Big, sparkling eyes. Like pearls. Golden hair. Leo, my angel. The brightest light. My life’s joy. His laughs. Tight hugs. Innocent words. My heart just filled. With happiness.
Our small family lived. In our cosy mansion. Lincoln Park. Every day was peaceful. Full of laughter. Tranquil. We had family dinners often. Daniel talked about his cases. Complex stuff. I shared about my art class. Leo? He’d excitedly tell stories from preschool. On weekends, we’d picnic. In the park nearby. Or watch a favourite animated movie. Simple moments. More precious than any money. That happy, peaceful life. It was everything I dreamed of.
For Leo’s 5th birthday. We took a special trip. To Hawaii. My dream for a long time. Daniel made it real. Our whole family went. My parents, too. A wonderful week. Golden sun. Blue sea. Unforgettable memories. I cherished every moment. With my little family. I truly felt life was enough. More than enough. I still vividly remember Leo’s bright smile. Building sandcastles. So excited. Daniel’s happy gaze. Watching me swim in the clear water.
“Mommy, I built a super tall castle!” Leo exclaimed. His small hands were covered in sand.
“That’s wonderful, my son!” I leaned down. Kissed his cheek. “We’ll decorate it with beautiful shells!”
Daniel wrapped his arms around me. From behind. Gently. He kissed my hair. “My love, are you happy?”
I leaned my head on his shoulder. Breathed in the scent of the sea. The sun on his skin. “So happy, Daniel. I feel like the luckiest woman in the world.”
My parents sat. On a lounge chair. Under a palm tree. My mother is reading. My father fiddled with his phone. Sometimes, he’d look up, a gentle smile. My mother looked up, too. Her eyes are full of tenderness. “It truly is a perfect picture, Richard. Our Eleanor has everything.”
At that moment. I believed it. I had everything. A life so fulfilling. I couldn’t ask for more. I couldn’t have imagined. Just hours later. That perfect picture. It would shatter.
That fateful afternoon. I decided to swim far out. See the colourful coral reefs. The sea was choppier than usual. But I’m a strong swimmer. Always confident. I put on my emerald green swimsuit. Waved goodbye to Daniel and Leo. They played on the shore. “I’m going a little further out! Want to see some colourful fish!” I called back. Daniel waved back. His smile was warm.
I dove deep. Immersing myself. In the ethereal beauty. Of the underwater world. Colourful coral reefs. They undulated. Like underwater gardens. Small schools of fish. Swimming freely. I felt like I was in another world. Completely separate. From all worries. As I surfaced. A sudden unease crept in. The waves began to roar. Much more violently. The wind blew fiercely. Sweeping sand and leaves. On the shore. From a distance. I vaguely heard Daniel and my parents calling my name. Their voices filled with panic.
“Eleanor! Eleanor! Get to shore, there’s a storm coming, darling!” My mother’s voice. It echoed in the wind. Full of fear.
“Come on, Eleanor! Hurry, my love!” Daniel shouted. Standing on the shore. His face was pale.
I struggled to swim back. But the colossal waves. They kept pulling me. Further and further away. Each time I tried to surface. Another wave crashed down. Submerging me. I felt freezing. My body is gradually losing strength.
Daniel. Without hesitation. Plunged into the sea. He swam very fast. Powerfully defying the fierce, tearing waves. “Eleanor! Hang in there, my love! I’m coming!” His voice struggled against the wind and the crashing waves. I saw him getting closer. Closer. A glimmer of hope. It flickered within me.
But then. A colossal tsunami hit. It was taller than the palm trees on the shore. Ferocious. Terrifying. I tried to struggle. To call out. But the howling wind and roaring waves. They drowned everything out. The wave swallowed me. Pulling me deeper. My strength dwindled. And the images of Daniel and my parents. Blurred my eyes. Before everything faded into darkness… a pitch-black shadow engulfed me.
When I woke up. I found myself on a deserted beach. My head is spinning. My body is aching. Utterly exhausted. The sun was scorching. The sand burning beneath my back. And the rhythmic sound of waves. That was the only thing I heard. I tried to move. But my entire body felt as if it had been crushed. A group of local fishermen. They found and rescued me. They were kind people. Speaking broken English. But their eyes. Full of concern and humanity. They took me to their small hut. Feed me simple seafood. And tended to my wounds.
I tried to remember everything. But my memories seemed chaotic. And hazy. I only remembered Daniel. Leo. My parents. And a burning desire. To return home. I couldn’t recall the exact names of the fishermen. Or the name of the island where I washed ashore. Everything was blurry. Like a dream. Just passed. After a few days. When my health had gradually recovered. I tried to explain. That I needed to contact my family. They helped me find a small communication station. On the island. Where I could make a phone call.
As I dialed my home number in Chicago. I felt my heart pound. After a few rings. Daniel picked up.
“Hello?” His voice was hoarse. Filled with exhaustion and despair.
“Daniel… It’s me… Eleanor!” I said. My voice breaks with tears.
Silence. On the other end. A terrifying silence. “Eleanor… are you kidding me?” His voice trembled.
“No… no, I’m not kidding, honey. I’m alive. I was swept onto a deserted island… I’m at a fisherman’s communication station now…” I tried to explain. As quickly as possible.
“How do I know it’s you?” Daniel’s voice. Full of skepticism. But I heard a faint glimmer of hope in it.
“Do you remember my engagement ring? You engraved my name and our anniversary date on the inside. And Leo… Leo always called me ‘Mommy Bee’ because I used to wear yellow clothes when I played with him…” I spilled out private memories. That only we knew.
The other end of the line was silent. For a moment. Then I heard Daniel take a deep breath. “Eleanor… where… Where are you? I’ll come get you right away!” His voice choked.
“I don’t know the exact address… but they say it’s a small island near Maui… I’ll try to get the specific address…”
The phone call ended emotionally. I couldn’t believe I had survived. And I was about to be reunited. With my family. After getting the address. And arranging the flight. A few days later. I finally landed in Chicago. As the taxi pulled up to our familiar mansion. I felt an inexplicable restlessness. The front door opened. And Daniel. My parents. And even Leo. I stood there. Their eyes wide with shock and fear.
My mother. Her face was drawn. From crying so much. Almost fainted when she saw me. “Eleanor! My daughter!” she whispered. Clutching her chest. My father stood there. His eyes are welling up. With suppressed tears. Daniel looked at me. As if I were a ghost. He took a step back. His eyes filled with skepticism.
“Eleanor! Is it really you?” Daniel whispered. His voice choked. Mixed with astonishment and fear. “I… I can’t believe my eyes.”
“It’s me, Daniel,” I said. Tears streamed down my face. I rushed to hug him. Inhaling his familiar scent. He held me tightly. As if afraid I would vanish. Leo, my little one. Initially shyly hid behind Daniel. His big round eyes. Staring at me. “Mommy… is it really you back?” he whispered.
“It’s Mommy, son!” I opened my arms wide. And he ran to hug me. Tears streamed down his face. “Mommy! You’re back! I missed you so much!”
I hugged him tightly. Feeling his familiar warmth. A strangely peaceful sensation. I tried to explain. That I had been swept away by the waves. Unconscious. And rescued by fishermen. “I… I was so scared,” I said. My voice was hoarse from crying. “But I knew I had to come back to you. To Leo… and to Mom and Dad.”
Everyone believed me. The overflowing joy. Overwhelmed any lingering doubt. I was Eleanor. Daniel’s wife. The Vance family’s only daughter. The one they loved most. To them, my return was a miracle. My mother, still dazed, said: “You’re back, Eleanor. That’s all that matters.” My father simply held me tight. Speechless.
In the arms of my loved ones. I felt a strange sense of peace. Perhaps the trauma. Had made me forget a few small things. But I believed I would soon remember everything. I was Eleanor. And I was home. Or at least. I thought I was.
The following days passed. In an atmosphere of rebirth. The house. Once gloomy with mourning. Now echoed with laughter again. Though there was still a hint of hesitation and awkwardness. My mother cooked my favourite dishes. My father told cheerful stories. And Daniel never left my side. As if afraid I would disappear again. He constantly hugged me. It comforted me. Whispering words of love.
“Do you want to walk in the garden, Eleanor? I remember you loved looking at the roses after the rain,” Daniel asked one afternoon.
“Hmm… okay, Daniel. But I’m a little tired,” I replied. Feeling a bit awkward. I remembered liking roses. But not with the burning passion Daniel seemed to think I had.
Leo. After a few shy days. Also started his playful antics again. He often ran to hug me. Asking me about stories I used to tell.
“Mommy, tell me the story about the blue dragon and the rose princess!” Leo hugged me tightly. His big, round eyes were sparkling.
I was flustered. What was that story? I tried to search my memory. But found nothing. “Son, Mommy… Mommy is sorry. I’ve kind of forgotten. Can you tell Mommy again?”
Leo looked at me with surprise. Then he looked down. I’m a little disappointed. “You forgot? That’s our secret story…”
Despite a slight strangeness. A hint of emptiness. When I couldn’t recall some small details, Leo mentioned. I tried to respond with all my love. I believed that time would heal everything. And I would soon be Eleanor again. I cherished every moment. As a gift from fate. I tried to adapt back. To my old life. To my old habits. I went shopping with my mother. Attended social gatherings with Daniel. And played with Leo. Everything seemed to be falling back into place. But deep down. I felt something was wrong. A sense of displacement. A feeling that I was playing a role. Not being myself.
I began to wonder: had the accident changed me too much? Or was there something else happening that I couldn’t explain?
However, that false peace didn’t last long. Invisible cracks began to appear. Becoming clearer and clearer. Not just in my own perception. But also in the eyes of my loved ones.
Leo was the first. To sense the abnormality deeply. A child’s keen instinct. Told him something was wrong.
One night. As I sang a lullaby to him. I sang a song I vaguely remembered my mother singing to me when I was little. But Leo suddenly pushed me away. His eyes were full of unfamiliarity. “Daddy, Mommy isn’t my mommy,” he whispered to Daniel after I left the room. “Mommy doesn’t sing that song the way my mommy used to. Mommy doesn’t know our secret story about the blue dragon and the rose princess.” Daniel heard him. And a flicker of doubt. Began to appear in his eyes.
The next morning. Daniel sat at breakfast with me. His face was thoughtful. “Eleanor,” he began. “Do you remember the night we first met? What colour dress were you wearing?”
I was flustered. “A… a dark blue dress, wasn’t it, honey?” I guessed. Based on a photo I’d seen in an album.
Daniel gently shook his head. “No. You wore a red dress. With hand-embroidered patterns. You even told me it was a dress your mother had personally embroidered for you.” He stared at me. His eyes scrutinised. I felt awkward. My heart is pounding.
My parents also couldn’t shake the strange feeling. Especially my mother. The real Eleanor was an art lover. Often attending art exhibitions. And enchanted by classical symphonies. But the “Eleanor” currently. Was indifferent to invitations for concerts. Ignoring art auctions I used to eagerly anticipate. I even forgot Aunt Sarah’s birthday. Someone the real Eleanor deeply cherished. And frequently called to confide in.
One afternoon. My mother sat beside me in the living room. Her eyes were thoughtful. “Eleanor, dear, you seem… very different,” she said. Her voice was heavy with sadness. “You don’t like the herbal tea you used to drink every morning anymore. You also don’t read your favourite classic books.”
I tried to force a smile: “Mom, I just went through a major accident. Maybe I need time to fully recover. I find myself liking new things now.”
“I understand,” my mother sighed. “But… you’re like a different person. A part of you was left out at sea.” My mother’s words filled me with extreme unease. I felt like an actress. Trying to play a role. But imperfectly.
Daniel. With sharp intuition. Of a leading law firm CEO. Who had handled countless complex cases. And was skilled at reading people. I began to clearly notice the abnormalities. He started asking questions. I couldn’t answer naturally. Questions about the smallest details. Of our lives.
“My love, do you remember the nickname I used to call you when we first fell in love?” Daniel asked one evening. As we were having dinner. “The nickname only the two of us knew.”
I stammered. Trying to search my memory. But found nothing. I ventured a guess: “Was it… was it ‘kitten’?”
Daniel frowned slightly. “No. It was ‘my queen’. Don’t you remember?” He stared at me. His eyes probed. I felt awkward. My heart is pounding.
Then he asked about the necklace he gave me on our wedding day. A pendant. Engraved with Leo’s name. And a secret phrase. Only we knew. “Where’s your necklace?”
I stammered: “I… I think it got lost in the storm, Daniel. I looked everywhere but couldn’t find it.” I had tried. It wasn’t there.
Daniel stared at me. His eyes were cold. “You never took it off, Eleanor. Not even when you bathed. You said it was your lucky charm.” He stood up. Said nothing more. Leaving me alone. With a growing sense of dread.
He began to investigate secretly. I saw him making furtive phone calls. Browse the internet on his computer all night. He hired a private detective. Dug through Eleanor’s medical records. And even sought out the fishermen. I claimed had rescued me. Every clue he found. Only reinforced the growing fear within Daniel.
One day. I saw Daniel holding an old photo of me. And comparing it to my face in the mirror. Then he took a small tool. And gently plucked a strand of hair. From my brush. I felt an extreme unease. But didn’t dare to ask. A few days later. He secretly took a cup. I had just drunk from. And carefully put it in a zip-lock bag. I knew he was doing something… and it wasn’t good for me. I felt like I was trapped in a snare. And I didn’t know how to escape. Fear engulfed me.
Daniel followed the trail. Of the mysterious calls. He found them on “Eleanor’s” phone. They led him to a phone number. Registered under a fake name. But it was constantly calling a secret email address. He felt something was off. When the private detective investigated further. They found that email address. It was used to book an appointment. At a renowned plastic surgery clinic in Switzerland. Specialising in facial reconstruction surgeries.
When Daniel contacted the clinic. They initially refused info. Due to confidentiality. But with his sharp intuition. And influence. Daniel found a way. To access the information. Through a lawyer colleague. With extensive connections. He learned that a patient had undergone a comprehensive facial reconstruction surgery. To look exactly like Eleanor Vance. What was suspicious? Was that the patient’s medical records? Indicated she had been referred by a close friend. Who had provided detailed photos of Eleanor? From various angles. Photos that even appeared to have been taken from a distance. As if under surveillance. And the contact number of that referrer. It matched one of the mysterious phone numbers that “Eleanor” had called. The name in the referral record: Seraphina “Sera” Dubois.
Daniel felt a chill. Run down his spine. Sera Dubois… that name. It echoed in his head. Sera was Eleanor’s best friend. From college. Someone Eleanor always trusted. And confided in. Eleanor often told him about Sera. Her dreams and ambitions. Sera was an intelligent, sharp woman. But also possessed a mysterious, elusive quality. And a hint of always wanting what Eleanor had.
Daniel also began to notice small changes. On “Eleanor’s” body. Details a loving husband would never overlook. The real Eleanor had a small crescent-shaped scar. On her left knee. From a childhood accident. When she slipped in the garden. Daniel had kissed that scar. Countless times. But “Eleanor” didn’t have it. When Daniel asked about it. I simply stammered that perhaps it had faded over the years. Or that due to the trauma. I hadn’t noticed. He also noticed that I had a small butterfly tattoo. On my left wrist. A tattoo the real Eleanor never had. I tried to explain. That I got it after the accident. “To mark my survival. And a new beginning.”
“You never liked tattoos, Eleanor,” Daniel said. His eyes are sharp. “You always said you wanted to keep your skin as natural as possible.”
I tried to deflect: “Well… after the accident. I thought I should try new things. I hadn’t done it before.”
Daniel said nothing more. But his eyes said it all. He remembered Sera Dubois. He was fascinated. By the idea of getting a butterfly tattoo. In that exact spot. Eleanor had once told him about Sera wanting that tattoo. To symbolise freedom and transformation.
Daniel hired the private detective. To investigate Sera. They uncovered a secret bank account. Under Sera Dubois’s name. With large sums of money. Being unusually transferred. In and out. Over the past year. Coinciding with the time. Leading up to the accident in Hawaii. Sera. Who always complained about her finances. And frequently borrowed money from Eleanor. Suddenly had huge financial transactions. Without clear reasons. These funds were transferred from various accounts. Carefully disguised. But the detective still managed to trace them.
The detective also found that Sera had quit her old job a year ago. But had no clear new employment. Instead, she was frequently absent from her home. Seemingly travelling a lot. Which coincided with the time she went to Switzerland.
Daniel had gathered enough evidence. He had received the fingerprint and DNA analysis results. From the strand of hair. And the cup I had touched. The results showed. That “Eleanor’s” fingerprints and DNA. Did not match those of the real Eleanor Vance. They matched completely. With Sera Dubois’s DNA profile. From a minor case. Where she had been a witness. A few years prior.
One evening. With Leo fast asleep in Daniel’s arms. He placed a thick folder of documents. On the coffee table in the living room. His eyes were cold. But I could feel the immense pain. Hidden deep within them.
“I’ve found out everything, Sera,” he said. His voice was deep. And filled with disappointment. “You are not my Eleanor.”
I was stunned. My whole body trembled. I tried to feign ignorance: “Daniel, what are you talking about? I am Eleanor! What’s wrong with you?”
“Enough!” he said. His voice rang with suppressed fury. “The fingerprints don’t match. The DNA doesn’t match. The scar on Eleanor’s knee isn’t on you. And the necklace I gave Eleanor on our wedding day. She never took it off. But you don’t have it.” He slid a photo from the folder. It was a picture of Sera Dubois. Leaving the plastic surgery clinic in Switzerland. Her face was partially obscured. But her build and a few features are still recognisable. “This is evidence from the clinic, Sera. You had surgery to become Eleanor.”
My face turned ghostly pale. The facade of calm completely collapsed. A twisted, hateful smile. Appeared on my lips. My eyes began to redden. Not from tears. But from pure hatred. “Yes, Daniel. It’s me. Sera Dubois. Eleanor’s best friend. The one she trusted. More than her own sister. The one who had to witness her perfect life. While I struggled with every penny. With every broken relationship. She had everything. And I had nothing!”
“She had a billionaire father. An elegant mother. A talented and loving husband. She had an angelic son. And what about me? I was a poor friend. Always living in her dazzling shadow! I had endured her pity. For too long!” Sera’s voice was shrill. Filled with resentment. As she abruptly stood up. “She always pretended to be kind. To help me. But in reality. It was just showing off. Satisfying her ego. At seeing herself superior to others!”
“I’ve been watching her. Envying her. For a long time. I planned it all!” Sera confessed. Her eyes were wide with madness. “I knew she always swam far out. I tracked your trip to Hawaii. Know your itinerary. When the storm hit. I was there. I saw her. I got close. And pushed her further out. Drowning her in the deep sea. When no one was looking. It was a terrible storm. No one could have survived. Everyone would believe she died in an accident.”
“After that. I went to Switzerland. For surgery. I spent an entire year there. Studying Eleanor. Every gesture. Every habit. Every word she spoke. I practised. In front of the mirror. For hours. To become her. I was perfect. I became Eleanor Vance. And I have her life. Her husband. Her child. Everything belongs to me!” Sera burst into chilling laughter.
Daniel felt a wave of disgust. “You will never be Eleanor,” he said. His voice was firm. “You are just a sick impostor. My Eleanor was a kind, virtuous woman. She would never do this. She would never betray someone’s trust. She loved Leo more than anything in this world.”
Sera scoffed. Her face contorted. “You don’t know your Eleanor, Daniel. She was just a doll. Wrapped in silk. Understanding nothing about this world! She didn’t deserve to have everything!”
The tense confrontation reached its peak. When Sera tried to escape. She rushed towards the main door. But Daniel was prepared. He quickly blocked the exit. And immediately. The wail of police sirens echoed outside. He had called the police. Before confronting Sera. Preparing for every scenario. Sera was arrested immediately. And her confessions were recorded. Becoming undeniable evidence.
I, the real Eleanor. A lost soul. Unable to do anything. Could only watch everything unfold. My heart is aching beyond words. Sera. The friend I had trusted. The one I had helped and shared everything with. Had taken everything from me. The physical pain in the last moments of my life. Was nothing. Compared to the agony of knowing. That is my closest friend. Was the one who had taken my life. And my identity.
After this shocking incident. The Vance family had to face a harsh reality. The real Eleanor was truly gone. The truth about Sera Dubois. It was a huge shock. A deep scar. In their minds. The news spread quickly. Becoming the focus of media attention. In Chicago. And across America. Rumours and sensational headlines. Constantly appeared. Putting additional heavy pressure. On the Vance family.
Daniel. Despite the profound pain. Of losing his beloved wife. And being cruelly deceived. Had to be strong. To be a pillar of support. For Leo. And his in-laws. He spent time. Explaining the truth to Leo. About his mother. Who was gone forever. But would always live. In their hearts.
“Son,” Daniel hugged Leo tightly. “Your mommy… your mommy is gone now. The woman we thought was your mommy… wasn’t the real mommy. Your real mommy is Eleanor. She loved you very much. And she will always be in our hearts.” Leo. Though young. Gradually understood. And the sadness in his eyes. Pierced Daniel’s heart. He often asked about me. About old memories. And Daniel patiently recounted them. Keeping my memory alive. In his son’s heart.
The Vance family decided to slow down. They moved out of the old mansion. Which held too many memories. And too much pain. To a smaller house. In the suburbs. Away from public scrutiny. Daniel took a leave of absence from work. To focus on healing his own emotional wounds. And his son’s. He realised that happiness was not found in perfection or wealth. But in genuine relationships. In cherishing what one has. He began taking Leo to therapy. To help him overcome the trauma. And he himself sought help from professionals. To cope with the shock. He joined support groups. For those who had lost loved ones. Learning to confront his grief. And find ways to heal.
My parents also gradually learned to cope. With the harsh truth. They realised that sometimes. Blind trust in seemingly perfect things. Could blind them. To hidden dangers. They became more cautious. Valuing present moments. And the peace. They had once taken for granted. My mother, Catherine. After a long period of despair. And incessant crying. Began to devote more time to charity work. Finding meaning. In helping those less fortunate. She established a charity fund. In my name. Eleanor Vance. To help victims of identity theft. And those suffering from severe psychological trauma. My father, Richard. Though still bearing the scars of pain and loss. Gradually regained his spirit. He withdrew from some major projects. Spent more time with his family. And became a devoted grandfather to Leo. He often took Leo out. Telling him stories about me. About my childhood. So Leo would always remember his mother.
Life didn’t return. To how it was before. But it found a “new normal.” Daniel and Leo. Along with their grandparents. Gradually rebuilt their lives. The pain of losing Eleanor. It was still there. But it was no longer an obsession. It transformed. Into motivation. For them to live more meaningfully. To cherish their loved ones. And to learn to forgive – not Sera. But themselves. So they could move forward.
Daniel matured greatly. Not only in his career. But also in life. He learned to face loss. To heal his son’s wounds. And to find joy. In the smallest things. He abandoned his ambitions. For power and fame. Focusing on the core values of life. He wrote a book. About his journey. About pain and recovery. To inspire others. Facing similar tragedies. He became an exemplary single father. Always prioritising Leo. He never stopped reminding Leo of my love. Of the beautiful memories we shared. He taught Leo how to love. How to forgive. And how to face the truth. No matter how harsh it might be. He believed that even with terrible events. Life would still have light. If we knew how to seek it.
As for me, Eleanor. Although I cannot physically manifest. I am always by the side of my loved ones. I watch over them. Seeing them gradually overcome sorrow. Finding new peace. And happiness. I realise that while death may separate the body. Love and beautiful memories. Will live forever. In the hearts. Of those who remain. I see Daniel growing stronger. More mature. I see Leo growing up healthy. Intelligent. And always carrying. The image of his deceased mother in his heart. I see my parents finding solace. In charity work. And in caring for Leo.
Whenever Daniel hugs Leo. I feel the sacred connection. Between them. Whenever Leo tells stories about “Mommy Eleanor.” I know. That I still live. In his memories. The pain of being betrayed. And having my identity stolen. Is still there. But it is soothing. By the unending love. Of my family. I know. That one day. Daniel and Leo. Will find happiness again. True happiness. Not a perfect facade. Woven from lies and envy. And I. The soul of Eleanor Vance. Will forever be a part of that happiness. Like a guiding light. From eternity.