Chapter 20

Emilie hesitated. She still didn't want to go. "You know," her therapist whispered beside her, "you don't have to do this. We can wait."

She shook her head tersely, "No, I need to do this. It's been over two months already. If I wait any longer, I'll never go, and I need closure." She afforded herself one brief pause before squaring her shoulders and pushing the doors open.

The enormous mansion smelled stale. She frowned as she looked around. This had been her childhood home, after all—to see it cold and dead like this was painful.

"Might as well get the worst over with," she muttered and marched straight for the atelier, her therapist by her side. Of course, it had been totally stripped of all of Gabriel's belongings mere hours after the battle had ended. The evidence they'd discovered on Gabriel's computers had been critical in securing his business holdings and all the ensuing court drama. However, even without the computers here, Emilie shuddered at Gabriel's lingering presence. Not wanting to prolong this uncomfortable journey longer than she had to, she strode to her portrait on the wall and pressed the code in. The floor opened up and an elevator platform carried her down.

"Emilie? Talk to me. Tell me what you're feeling."

"I know this place," she responded. "When I was young, maybe fourteen or so, I had been in the courtyard with Amelie. She found an old coal chute behind some bushes, and fell in. The whole fire brigade came out, my father was terrified… When they got her out, she told me what was down here."

"What was it they found?"

"An old hideaway used by the French Resistance. Of course, that put the Mansion on the historical monuments list pretty fast, and there were a couple years with lots of construction to try to preserve it. Until…"

"Until when?"

"Until Father got ill and Graham Studios was forced to close."

"That was around the same time you married Gabriel, right?"

Emilie nodded. "Exact same time. His offer was to save the company and the mansion. Amelie was too… fragile to see the value in his offer, so I took it instead."

Her therapist nodded. "Fragile?"

"Or wise; either way, I ended up at the altar, not her."

The elevator slowed down and Emilie sighed. "It was Athan who found her down here."

"Athan… Athanasius? Tell me about him."

She swallowed hard and bit back tears that prickled the backs of her eyes, "It was a silly schoolgirl crush."

"No it wasn't. He was important to you. It helps to talk about it, Emilie. Don't hold back."

"Amelie used to tease me about it. She didn't think he was good looking, and as the son of the gardener, he hardly had prospects, but he was kind and sweet. He was brave and strong. That day Amah fell down the coal chute was the first I met him. He came here, he slid right down the chute after her, sent her back up the rope first, and then climbed out himself. When my father offered him a massive reward, he dismissed it nonchalantly. He didn't care about money—he just came to help. He was the only person I ever knew who never tried to use us for our fortune or our name."

"Did he know how you felt?" Emilie nodded quietly in response. "And? Did he feel the same way?" She nodded again. "Where is he now?"

Emilie bit her lip as the tears she'd been just barely managing to contain burst past her eyelids, "He died in a tragic accident about a month before I married Gabriel." Emilie knew this wasn't true, but it was what the police records indicated, and she never did have the evidence she needed to confirm her suspicions.

Her therapist surveyed her for some time before deciding it was time to move forward, up the catwalk and toward the abandoned metal cocoon that had been her residence for two years.

"Emilie," the therapist soothed, "remember what we said about living with regrets? You did what you felt was best at the time. Don't regret it."

She nodded stoically and stepped on the clanking catwalk. The water below was quiet and green as the wall sconces flared to life. Her footsteps echoed as she made her way toward the empty coffin-like device. The plants around it were all dead now, just brown skeletal remains. That pang of regret stabbed at her again, but she shook her head. "No regrets," she chanted out loud. Nothing, not even the death of these magic-fueled bushes, were her fault. She looked into the metal cocoon and shivers ran up her spine.

"You know what's strange?" she muttered to her therapist, "I have no memories of being inside this thing. I remember being in Tibet, I remember him using the peacock and him nearly dying. I remember Mei Jian telling me about misusing Miraculous and how magical wounds couldn't be healed, but I had to do something. I wanted to save him so badly. I remember the golden butterfly leaving me and going to him, and it not being enough. I remember Mei telling me to stop but he was still slipping away, so I fed the butterfly more and more energy until I saw his eyes open."

"What happened then?" the therapist prompted.

"He looked at me. He didn't smile. Gabriel never really smiled. And then everything went black. I don't even remember dreaming. The next thing I recall was waking up on the stretcher outside the mansion."

"How does that make you feel?"

Emilie fingered the cocoon. "I don't know. Robbed, I guess. Two whole years of life and I can relive it all in a sentence. I missed everything—I missed Adrien's birthdays, I missed his first crush, I missed him growing up and I'll never get it back."

The therapist nodded and smiled softly, "That's valid. Adrien doesn't blame you, though, you know—"

"Well he should!" she burst, suddenly feeling white-hot-anger, "I saved Gabriel's life! I could have let him go, back there in Tibet! I could have spared everyone everything."

"Emilie—"

"I know I know, no regrets…" Emilie was about to add more, but a flash of light caught her eye. She turned to the shadow and walked forward to investigate.

"Emilie, wait, stop—" the therapist panicked, but it was too late. Emilie found the second cocoon, hiding inconspicuously back here. It was a little smaller than the one she'd been in, but was now as empty as hers. The monitors on the side were still on. She looked closer and punched a few buttons. It started beeping in alarm, and the primary screen started running a written warning, "Patient has been disconnected. Reconnect immediately."

Emilie read the marquee a couple times before startling in surprised understanding. "Someone else was here," she whispered, "someone else he locked up."

The therapist grabbed her shoulder and started pulling her toward the elevator, "We need to send the police back down here to investigate. We shouldn't be here," she was chanting.

"Where are they? Where's the other person? It's smaller than mine—I think… I think he must have had a…No… Please don't let it be true. He was a monster, but he would never lock up a child?"

"This was a bad idea," Emilie's therapist groaned as she pushed her patient into the elevator and willed it to move faster. Emilie was flushed and shaking.

"I don't care what you say," Emilie finally spoke, "I hate him. I regret marrying him. I regret saving his life."

"Just…" the therapist's voice quavered, "think about Adrien. Think about the good you brought into the world, despite Gabriel."

Emilie smiled weakly, "I brought him into the world, but for what? So he could be abused by his father? How do I know he wasn't the intended patient for that second cocoon?"

Out of good ideas, the therapist did the only thing she could think of—she wrapped her arms around Emilie's shaking frame and just held her softly until the elevator broke through the atelier floor and into sunlight once more.

"Maman?"

Emilie looked up from her therapist's shoulder. Adrien was there, and next to him was his girlfriend, Marinette. "Adrien! I d-didn't know you were here—" she sniffed. The therapist handed Emilie off to Adrien and bolted to alert the police about the second cocoon.

"Why did you go down without me? I thought we were going to face everything together."

Emilie walked to her son while wiping the tears from her face. "I just didn't want you to go down there without knowing what we might encounter." He opened his arms and the two embraced. Marinette patted his shoulder affirmingly. "Adrien, I never want you going down there, ok? We'll have someone come in and fill it all in and tear down the mansion; I never want you going down there."

"Maman," he whispered into her hair, "It's ok…"

"No, it's not ok!" she yelled. "He hurt so many people—worst of all, you. I hate him and I will never, ever forgive him!"

Adrien stroked his mother's hair. "Me neither. I'm angry too. He robbed me of two years with you. He tried to take everything from me, and almost succeeded. But you know what?"

"What?" she sobbed, placing her head on her son's shoulder.

"He also gave me Chat Noir. And he gave me Ladybug. He gave me my first few friends. He gave me a cause bigger than myself. He gave me courage, and strength, and true love. I hate the way he chose to do it, but I'm proud of who I became because of him."

She gazed into those blazing eyes, hugged him, and whispered, "I'm proud of you too, my beautiful ray of sunshine."

"But Maman, I need to thank you."

She looked up into his powerful green eyes—"What?"

"Thank you for saving his life. Without that, I wouldn't have become who I needed to be, to be able to save yours." Adrien kissed his mother softly on the forehead and squeezed her tightly until her shaking finally stopped, knowing that no matter what the outcome—no matter what happened to the mansion or to Gabriel brands, or what happened in the future, he and his mother would face it together.