After All

The other two Marino Siblings

Six months had passed since the Marino family formally introduced Monica and Kara to the world. On the surface, their lives appeared to have regained a sense of normalcy—lavish parties, business deals, and public appearances continued as expected. Yet, beneath the grand facade, grief and unease lingered like an unshakable shadow over the entire clan.

The death of Riho Marino, the formidable yet beloved matriarch of the family, had left a void that no amount of wealth or influence could fill. Her passing had not been sudden, but the circumstances surrounding it only deepened the sorrow and unanswered questions left in its wake.

The Marino mansion, usually a beacon of opulence and celebration, had grown eerily quiet. The grandeur remained untouched—chandeliers glistened, gold-trimmed walls reflected the soft glow of candlelight, and delicate floral arrangements filled the air with their fragrance—yet the atmosphere carried a weight of mourning.

A Family Gathering in the Wake of Sorrow

Marie descended the grand staircase, her sleek black dress flowing elegantly as she moved. Every step she took was measured, exuding the poise and grace befitting her status. Her eyes, however, told a different story—a silent storm of emotions that she had become all too skilled at concealing.

She entered the sprawling living room, where a plush leather couch awaited her. She sank into its comfort, folding her hands neatly in her lap, awaiting the arrival of her father and siblings. The tension in the air was almost suffocating.

A few moments later, Karl Marino emerged from his study, his expression unreadable yet profoundly burdened. Beside him was Sahoko, his daughter, her face still weary from the sleepless nights of mourning. She clung tightly to the arm of her younger brother, Kazuki, who offered her silent support.

Karl let out a heavy sigh before speaking, his voice carrying the weight of a man who had endured more loss than he cared to admit.

"I know this has been hard for all of us," he began, gently clasping Sahoko's hand in his own. "Especially you, Sahoko. Your mother's passing was unexpected, and she... she didn't follow the doctor's medication. That made things even harder."

Sahoko exhaled slowly, her eyes glassy yet resolute. "But she was happy, Dad," she whispered. "She was truly happy in those last days, especially because you were with her. Traveling with her meant the world to her."

Karl's expression softened. The memories of those final days played in his mind like a film reel—Riho's laughter echoing in the car as they drove through the countryside, the way she gazed out of the plane window with childlike wonder, the quiet moments they shared when words weren't necessary.

Kazuki, his voice steady but laced with emotion, added, "Dad, you were true to your word. You promised Mom you'd be by her side for the rest of her life, and you kept that promise."

Karl's throat tightened. "I only wish I could have done more," he murmured.

A silence settled over the room—one of reflection, of pain, of memories left unfinished.

Then, the sound of footsteps on the marble staircase broke the moment.

Rafael Marino, the eldest son, descended slowly. His face was unreadable, but his eyes carried the weight of something deeper than grief—perhaps resentment. He stopped briefly at the bottom of the stairs, his gaze locking onto his father's.