Chapter 24 — Final Letters & Silent Tears
Arin's parents handed him a small envelope, their hands trembling.
"Read it… when you're ready," his mother whispered, voice barely audible.
He took it, feeling the weight of years in the paper.
Alone, he opened it.
> Arin,
We failed you in ways we can never undo. We favored, we neglected, we hurt without realizing the depth of the scars we left.
We cannot change the past, but we vow to honor your life and your choices. We will never take your love or your family for granted again.
We love you. Always.
Arin folded the letter slowly, eyes misting.
Later, as Nivaan clung to his leg, he heard it—a word he hadn't said in decades:
"Mom… Dad…"
It slipped out softly, almost reluctant, yet full of meaning.
Tears fell silently from his parents' eyes.
No words. No apologies. Just the quiet, aching relief of a family finding each other again.
Arin looked at them, and for the first time in years, let the walls loosen completely—not collapsing, but bending, letting love seep through.
And in the soft, golden afternoon, the house that once held pain now held something else:
Peace.
Forgiveness.
And a future they would all build together.