Page 133 of The Devil's Canvas

I turn—my mom is already stepping into the light behind me, golden curls loose around her shoulders, eyes shimmering with memory and recognition.

Rosalind exhales sharply. “Calliope.”

“Rosalind.” There’s history in that name. And when they move toward each other, there’s no hesitation—only understanding. They embrace like old friends who lost too much, and finally got something back.

“Thank you,” Calliope whispers. “For loving her like she was your own.”

Rosalind swallows. “She is mine.” She turns to me, her voice softer. “But she was always yours first.”

“I don’t mean to cut in…” Julian starts, his voice quiet but pointed, “but I think you should tell them about Cassius, Lia.”

I nod, heart thudding like thunder against bone. “I’m sorry,” I say, voice steady even as my chest tightens, “but Cassius’ soul was taken. Melanie’s time too."

“Lia…” Julian murmurs, his gaze steady on mine, but there’s warning in his tone. He knows what’s coming.

“Who’s Melanie?” Rosalind asks, her head tilting slightly, eyes narrowing in quiet confusion.

My breath stutters. “What do you mean, who’s Melanie?” I say, staring at her like I can force the memory back into place.

“That’s what I'm trying to tell you,” Julian says, folding his arms as his voice drops. “They don’t remember her.”

I glance at Bella, searching her face for recognition. “Your sister.”

“You're my only sister,” Bella replies, shaking her head, her brow furrowing.

I shift to Dominic, hope flickering in my chest. “Your ex-wife.”

"I was never married, Lia. I haven't been with anyone since we broke up,"he says, blinking slowly, a frown tugging at his mouth.

My pulse spikes. I turn to Rhys, desperate now. “You investigated her. With my father. The corruption case. We met at a coffee house to talk about it. ”

“I investigated a lot of corruption,” Rhys says, lifting his shoulders in a small shrug. “But… I don’t remember anyone named Melanie.”

He’s not lying. None of them are.

“She’s been erased,” Julian says quietly, his jaw tight. “Not just gone. Unwritten.”

“Who are you talking about, sweetheart?” Rosalind asks, her voice gentle, but wary.

“No one, I guess,” I say, forcing a tight smile. “Doesn’t matter now.”

My mom clears her throat. “Well,” she says brightly, like she’s throwing open a window, “this took a turn. How about something more celebratory?”

Julian tilts his head. “Such as?”

“The Infernal Union,” she says, already grinning. “There’s a ceremony to plan. Fire. Magic. Matching cloaks if I get my way.”

Bella leans forward. “Wait—Infernal what?”

“We’re getting married,” I say, resting my hand on Julian’s chest. “And I want you all there.”

Julian meets their eyes, voice low but certain. “You’re our family. You belong.”

My mom nods, proud and radiant. “And I get to walk my daughter down the aisle. I might be dead, but I’ve still got style.”

Rhys exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well... guess we’re going to Hell.”

Julian chuckles, low and real. “You’ll fit right in.”

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