Chapter One Hundred And Four

Chapter 104  

The sunlight filtering through the car windows was warm against Jemima's face, a stark contrast to the cool sterility of the psychiatric facility she had called home for months. Jay drove in silence, the low hum of the engine filling the space between them. Jemima stared out at the passing scenery, her chest tightening with a mix of excitement and apprehension.  

This was it. She was free—or at least, freer than she had been in years.  There was no sound of Jemma in her head or a voice telling her she was weak. She felt whole again. She felt like she could finally be free from the shackles that had defined her life for so long. 

"How does it feel to be back in the real world?" Jay's voice broke the silence, his tone light but tinged with curiosity.  He cast a glance her way and observed that she was just gazing out the window, smiling. 

This scene made him smile too. He briefly swerved into an alley and continued driving. 

Jemima turned to him, the smile on her lips widening more than ever. "It's... surreal Jay. It feels better. Everything feels brighter, louder. Like the world moved on without me. There’s no voice nagging me in my head, telling me what I can and can’t do. I feel like my own woman again. I never thought this was possible but here I am.”

Jay glanced at her briefly once again before focusing back on the road. "I am so proud of you Jem, of how far you’ve come, of the growth you’ve made and the progress you’ve achieved. You might not think it as much of anything but I see how much work you’ve put in and I’m proud of that— of you. The world might've moved on, but the people who care about you haven't. You're still Jemima Valerian to us. Nothing's changed."  

She let his words sink in as tears threatened to spill from the corner of her eyes. She looked out of the window and sighed deeply, closing her eyes momentarily as she tried to still the rising tempest of emotions that swirled within her. 

“Thank you, Jay,” Jemima whispered, glancing at him. She noticed how his jaw had become stubby and more chiseled. Jay nodded, placing his huge arm on her thing. Jemima glanced back at the window one more time and deep down in her heart, she knew— things had changed. She had changed.  

As they pulled into the driveway of the Valerian estate, Jemima's breath caught in her throat. The sprawling house looked the same as it always had, its stone façade as imposing as ever. But to her, it felt foreign, like a relic from another life.  She could not believe this was the house she grew up in, the house where— she allowed that thought to trail off as Jay parked the car and turned to her. "Ready?"  

Jemima nodded, though her hands trembled slightly as she reached for the door handle.  “Ready!”

Jay held her hand as they walked the house, a silent reassurance that she needn’t be afraid. 

The door swung open before they even reached the steps. Ava stood there, her eyes wide with a mix of relief and apprehension.  

"Jem!" she exclaimed, rushing forward to envelop her sister in a tight hug.  

Jemima stiffened at first, the physical contact overwhelming, but she forced herself to relax. "Hi, Ava," she said softly, her voice muffled against her sister's shoulder.  

Ava pulled back, holding Jemima at arm's length as she studied her. "You look... good. Different, but good. I didn’t know you’d be back so early. I’m making your favorite frittatas, just like Mama used to make them.”

"Thanks, I guess? You don’t have to fret Ava,” Jemima replied with a nervous laugh.  

Ava's gaze softened. "Nonsense. I'm just so glad you're home after such a long time. A feast is what I’m making and as you can see, the staff are helping so you just go freshen up and rest okay?”

“What of your kids? Did you bring them back or they’re still out of the country?” 
Before Jemima could finish asking the question, the kids came running towards her. Their squeals and giggles resonated through the walls. 

“Aunt Jemmy!" the youngest one squealed, breaking into a run.  

Jemima crouched down instinctively, catching the little girl in her arms. The warmth of the child's embrace was a balm to her frayed nerves.  

"Hey there, munchkin," she said, her voice cracking slightly.  

“I haven’t seen you in forever. I missed you,” the little girl said, enveloping Jemima in another embrace. 

“I missed you too kiddo,” Jemima responded with so much warmth as they went into the living room. Jemima closed her eyes and inhaled all the scents of the food. Her stomach grumbled and her eyes locked with Jay’s which caused heat to rise to her cheeks. 

Inside the house, the atmosphere was tense but welcoming. Jemima struggled to adjust to the noise and chaos of everyday life after the relative quiet of the facility. The children's laughter, the hum of conversations, and even the distant sound of the television felt overwhelming at times.  

Still, there were moments of solace. Jay stayed close, offering quiet support when she needed it most. Ava made sure Jemima never felt alone, even if it meant sitting in silence with her for hours.  

One afternoon, Ava found Jemima sitting in the garden, her hands buried in the soil as she worked on replanting flowers.  

"You've always loved this garden," Ava said, sitting on the edge of the stone path.  

"It's one of the few places that still feels like mine," Jemima admitted.  

Ava nodded. "I think it's because you've always found a way to grow something beautiful, no matter what's happening around you."  

Jemima paused, her fingers gripping the roots of a wilted plant. "Do you think that's true? After everything I've done... after what I became?"  

Ava's voice was firm. "Yes, Jem. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for. You always have been."  

The first test of Jemima's newfound resolve came sooner than she expected.  

That evening, Marcus announced that their father's lawyer would be visiting the estate to discuss unresolved matters. The mention of their father sent a shiver down Jemima's spine.  

"I don't think I can face this," Jemima admitted to Jay later that night.  

"You don't have to do it alone," Jay reminded her. "But if you're not ready, that's okay too."  

Jemima thought about his words as she lay awake in bed. She didn't feel ready, but she also didn't want to keep running from her past.  

The next morning, she joined the family in the dining room, where the lawyer, was waiting. His presence was commanding, his voice calm but authoritative.  

"Miss Valerian," he greeted her with a nod.  

Jemima swallowed hard. "Hello."  

The meeting was tense, every word laced with the weight of their father's legacy. The lawyer outlined the financial and legal intricacies left behind, but Jemima barely heard him. Her mind was elsewhere, replaying moments from her childhood—the good and the bad.  

When he finally left, Jemima felt like she'd run a marathon. She retreated to her room, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.  

That night, Jay found her sitting by the window, staring out at the moonlit garden.  

"You did well today," he said, sitting beside her.  

Jemima shook her head. "I barely said a word."  

"Sometimes just showing up is enough," Jay said.  

His words brought tears to her eyes. For so long, she had believed that her worth was tied to her ability to fix things, to be perfect. But maybe Jay was right. Maybe showing up was enough. 

As the weeks went by, Jemima began to rebuild her life, piece by piece. She started therapy sessions with Dr. Elara, who encouraged her to focus on the future rather than dwelling on the past.  

"What does healing look like to you?" Dr. Elara asked during one session.  

Jemima hesitated. "I'm not sure. I've spent so long just trying to survive that I don't know what it means to live."  

"Then let's figure it out together," Dr. Elara said with a reassuring smile.  

Jemima also began volunteering at a local shelter, where she met people whose struggles mirrored her own. One woman, a single mother named Clara, became a source of inspiration for Jemima.  

"You're stronger than you think," Clara told her one afternoon. "We all are. Sometimes it just takes a while to see it."  

Clara's words stayed with Jemima, echoing in her mind as she faced each new challenge.  

That evening, Jemima stood in the garden once more, the setting sun gleaming behind her as it casts its orange hue across the horizon. The warmth of the earth seeped through her feet and a lone tear fell from her eyes. 

Vanessa walked up behind her, the soles of her feet crunching the dried leaves. 

“Hi Jem,” Vanessa whispered, standing beside Jem. 
She noticed the lone tear fall from Jemima’s eyes and this caused her brows to knit with worry. “Is everything alright?”

Jemima nodded, wiping her nose with the back of her palm. 

“I’m free!”