Regretting The Wife He Threw Away

Briony stared at Carney and Gwendolyn White, her nose stinging as emotion welled up inside her.

Carney and Gwendolyn approached, their faces grave with concern.

"You really do treat your teachers like outsiders," Carney said, his tone tinged with gentle reproach. "Bryn, you've truly let me down."

Briony pressed her lips together, fighting back the tears threatening to spill. "I'm sorry, sir, I-"

Before she could finish, Gwendolyn White stepped forward and pulled her into a warm embrace. "Oh, sweetheart, don't mind your teacher. He's just trying to scare you, that's all. For the last five years, he's talked about you every single day. You're his brightest student. Seeing you struggle like this-it breaks his heart. He didn't mean what he said."

Wrapped in Gwendolyn's motherly arms, Briony suddenly felt every bottled-up emotion from the past days come crashing down.

"Mrs. Winslow, my mom... she's gone..."

Gwendolyn gently stroked her back, her own eyes growing red. "Don't be afraid, dear. You still have us. We never had children of our own, and if you're willing, we'd love nothing more than to be your family."

Briony buried her face in Gwendolyn's shoulder and wept, letting the grief finally pour out.

Carney and James stood nearby, watching the scene in silence, their brows furrowed with worry.

Carney, Gwendolyn, and James by her side, the funeral suddenly felt a

burial at the cemetery, Briony still needed to go to Brightspring Hill to hold a

her that Brightspring Hill was a sacred place. Briony had remembered

watching as she knelt before the altar, hands clasped together in

rituals were never really for the departed,

a white butterfly drifted in from

its presence, Briony slowly opened her

few seconds. As her tears trickled down, it fluttered its wings and took flight, dancing gracefully

was still blanketed in snow. No one knew where the butterfly had come from. It circled Briony a

rose and followed after it, and in that moment, her mother's words echoed in

sad. And don't

stopped, watching as the butterfly

the tears from

her, the priest

at last, had come to an

official duties to return to and