Page 57 of Bound By Crimson
Packing was harder than she expected.
Old clothes. Books. Trinkets.
Photographs of birthdays, family vacations, sleepy Christmas mornings.
But nothing broke her more thanthe box.
The box she’d found months ago in the back of her parents’ closet—the one with the pink baby blanket patterned with tiny music notes. The adoption papers. The note in careful, desperate handwriting:
Her name is Lyric. Please take care of her.
She hesitated, fingers brushing the worn cardboard flap.
For months, she had pushed it back into the closet, unable to face what it meant.
“You okay?” Velora asked gently from behind her.
Lyric swallowed hard. “There’s something I need to show you.”
She opened the box.
Velora’s breath caught the moment she saw the blanket and the papers. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God, honey... you’ve been holding this in all this time?”
Lyric nodded, tears pricking her eyes. “I found it after my parents died. I—I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want to believe it.”
Velora pulled her into a fierce hug. “Oh, sweetheart. I wish you hadn’t carried this alone. Your parents... they would have loved you no matter what. Blood doesn’t change that.”
Lyric clung to her, letting the weight of secrecy and grief finally fall away.
“You take that box with you,” Velora whispered. “It’s part of your story. Maybe... a piece of the puzzle. Something you’ll figure out when the time’s right.”
Lyric nodded, voice thick. “Okay.”
She sealed it gently, labeled it by hand, and set it aside for the movers.
Some things—no matter how painful—need to follow you, waiting to be faced when the time is right.
---
By late November, the sale was finalized.
The house no longer belonged to her.
Her childhood—her past—had been boxed up and sent ahead with the movers.
---
Kai came for her himself.
The Bentley felt warmer than it should have on a cold December evening. He took her hand the moment she slid intothe seat, fingers tightening as if he feared she might change her mind.
“Welcome home,” he whispered.
They drove for hours, the sun sinking into a blood-orange sky, the world darkening until the horizon glittered with the lights of New York City.
As they crossed into Manhattan, Lyric’s breath caught.
Christmas lights spilled across the skyline like falling stars.
