But even if she didn’t, she had already freed herself from their approval. She didn’t need them to validate her journey. She had lived it, built it, survived it.
And no one, not her parents, not her brother, not her critics, could ever take that away. The mansion stood behind her like a quiet monument to everything she had endured, everything she had created. It was no longer crumbling or forgotten.
It was alive, full of color, of light, of laughter, and music. Just like she had imagined when she was a little girl pressing her face to its rusted gates. She had brought it back to life.
And in doing so, she had brought herself back to life, no longer a shadow, no longer small. She had chosen herself. And that choice had changed everything.
This was only the beginning.