Chapter 39 – Letters in the Firelight
The night wrapped around them like velvet. Warm. Safe. Final.
Nova sat with her legs curled beneath her, Bea behind her, arms draped over her shoulders, chin tucked into the curve of her neck. The candle flickered on the windowsill, casting long shadows that danced like old ghosts finally learning how to leave.
Nova whispered, "Do you think she knows? My mother?"
Bea didn't hesitate. "She knows."
"Do you think she'd be proud?"
Bea pulled her tighter. "She is proud. You didn't just survive him. You became something untouchable. Something he can never claim."
Nova swallowed the ache rising in her throat. She had cried enough for a lifetime. Tonight, her tears were done. In their place—hope.
And something else.
Resolve.
She reached under the couch and pulled out a folder. Inside it: the original journal, scanned and copied. Her mother's words no longer just secrets in ink, but truths that would travel the world.
Bea sat up straighter. "You're really doing it?"
Nova nodded. "The publishing house wants to title it Ashes We Don't Bury."
Bea smiled slowly, "That sounds like you."
"No," Nova said. "That sounds like us."
---
Two Weeks Later
The book launched with no announcement, no fame-chasing posts. Just one quiet blog entry from Nova and a dedication page that read:
> For those who carry fire in silence. You are not alone anymore.
It spread like wildfire.
Women sent emails. Letters. Paintings. Poems.
Each one echoed a different pain, but all of them were stitched with one shared truth: They saw her. And in seeing her, they saw themselves.
Bea found Nova sitting in the garden late one night, surrounded by unopened letters.
"You okay?" Bea asked.
Nova held up one letter. "She said she never told anyone. Until she read my story."
Bea knelt beside her. "Nova… this is why we fight. Why we write."
Nova exhaled. "I want to write the next book."
"You will."
"No, we will," Nova said, eyes gleaming. "This time, it's not just about the past. It's about becoming. How we fall, how we rise."
Bea took her hand. "Let's build it, then. Word by word."
---
Later That Night
Nova couldn't sleep.
Her mind raced with titles, images, snippets of things yet unwritten.
So she got up, tiptoed to her desk, and lit a second candle.
Then she wrote:
> Chapter One: We Were Fire Before We Knew Our Names.
And somewhere behind her, Bea stirred and whispered half-asleep, "I like that…"
Nova smiled.
She kept writing.
---
One Month Later – At the Publishing Office
They sat across from the editor, fingers entwined.
"Are you two co-authoring this one?" the woman asked.
Bea and Nova exchanged a look.
"We always have been," Nova said.
The editor raised an eyebrow. "What's the title this time?"
Bea grinned. "The Flame of the Night."
Nova leaned forward, heart steady. "This time, it's not just about survival. It's about rising. About claiming the dark and turning it into power."
The woman smiled. "Send the first draft when you're ready."
Bea whispered into Nova's ear as they walked out, "We're writing our future now, aren't we?"
Nova nodded. "And it burns beautifully