𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐚 {𝐀 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜} [2] ✔️

20. EVELYN

WHY WAS FATE SO CRUEL? WHY WAS EVERYONE else blessed with a soulmate, while I was left to wander alone? The forest echoed with the laughter and whispers of those in love, a constant reminder of my own solitude.

I broke into a run, desperate to escape the suffocating loneliness. But as I emerged from the trees, I was met with a foreboding sight. Dark clouds loomed overhead, threatening to unleash their fury upon me.

And then it happened. The rain began to fall, each droplet a reminder of my own tears. But as the water soaked through my clothes, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. The rain was a welcome distraction from my own thoughts.

As I looked around, my eyes fell upon a sign embedded in the grass. Forks Cemetery. The irony was not lost on me. Was this where I was headed? To a lonely grave, with no one to mourn my passing?

Why was life so unfair? Why was I the only one left to suffer in solitude? The questions echoed in my mind, with no answers in sight.

As I approached the cemetery, my heart raced with anticipation. The thought of seeing my real mother after all these years filled me with both excitement and trepidation. The rain had soaked the grass, but I trudged on, determined to find her. The headstones loomed before me, a testament to the lives that had once been lived. Sarah Black, Harry Clearwater, Gregory and Helen Swan - their names etched in stone, a reminder of their existence. But where was she? I searched high and low, my eyes scanning each and every headstone until finally, one caught my eye. I approached it slowly, my body aching with sadness. And then, I read it.

EVELYN HANNAH MORGAN BAXTER
DEC. 7. 1967
JUNE. 15. 1987
BELOVED DAUGHTER, WIFE AND MOTHER
Deeply missed by all her friends and family

The headstone stood tall and proud, an oval of black marble with broad shoulders that seemed to bear the weight of the world. The writing etched into its surface was a shimmering gold, glinting in the sunlight like a beacon of hope. Delicate lilies were drawn in the top corners, their petals reaching towards the heavens in a silent prayer.

But it was the small picture above the writing that caught my eye. A young woman, no more than her early twenties, beamed out at me with a wide smile on her fair face. Her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders in soft waves, framing her features perfectly. Her dark brown eyes were fixed on me, as if daring me to look away.

She was frighteningly beautiful, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of familiarity as I gazed upon her. It was the same shade of blonde hair, the same shade of brown eyes that I had seen before. Ayla. The resemblance was uncanny, and I couldn't help but wonder if this was the reason Gavin had favoured her.

As I stood there, lost in thought, I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the beauty of the headstone before me. It was a testament to the life that had been lived, a reminder that even in death, we can leave behind something truly remarkable.

As I gazed upon my mother's plump, cherubic face, tears threatened to spill from my eyes. But I refused to let them fall. My body was a rigid statue, devoid of any emotion. Instead of the expected sorrow, a seething anger boiled within me. Anger towards a woman who was no longer alive.

My mind wandered to her and Gavin. What did she see in him? Scratch that, what didn't she see in him? My nostrils flared as I glared at her serene expression. My golden eyes narrowed into slits, hardening with each passing second. I rose to my feet, my fists balled up at my sides, and rolled my shoulders back.