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CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
GLORIOUS PURPOSE
✧
JUSTIN LEE HAD BEEN A RELIGIOUS MAN. Growing up in the church, he believed in a higher power – a divine one – that wrote the course of fate for all the inhabitants of earth. Everyone had a destiny to complete, and everything happened for a reason, a glorious purpose, and then, when their time ended, they would live in heaven, a forever paradise, in the afterlife.
But Justin's faith had not passed over to his daughter. Morgan remembered the church funeral that he wanted, clutching Helen's hand, tears in her eyes as she listened to the preacher recite biblical passages then the condolences of others saying that they were in a better place now, honey. She wanted to scoff at them, to yell and scream, but Helen kept her on a tight leash.
She couldn't see how they would be in a better place, because the best place for them was right beside her – their daughter. How could heaven be better than her? How could they want that over her? The higher power had to be wrong, this couldn't be their time, their glorious ending, because she was still alive without them.
Any notion of religion became tainted that day. Now, as she thought of it, she still couldn't comprehend the faith. Yes, because a divine being that controlled the earth wanted her Aunt Helen in the clutches of a Death Eater. Yes, a divine being wanted a mad man murdering muggleborns because of their "impure blood".
Still, now, as she sat on her bed in the dead of night, staring at the enchanted rose on her beside table, her heart ached for some fate. A predetermined destiny – a glorious purpose – and a reason for everything that happened in her life that made sense. A reason for being, rather than chaos and tragedy.
Lees were not the tragic kind. They were lucky; or, at least, they should be lucky. Her parents had been accomplished in their fields, and Helen was talented and kind, and she – she was to be the greatest Potions master in the entire world. They were destined for greatness, but Alistair wasn't going to let them have that.
Any notion of future greatness started to dim. She could only think of right now, of Helen still in Alistair's clutches, in the phantom burning her shoulder, and the need to save her aunt. No matter the cost. She looked up the sky, brought her hands together in the motion her father taught her, then clutched her eyes shut.
Please, she silently begged. To the universe, to anyone listening, to the divine being above if they truly existed, don't let my efforts be in vain. Keep my Aunt Helen safe.
She didn't want to ask for much, in her experience that was always the downfall of a bargain. You could only ask for as much as you could give, and though she had nothing, she would sacrifice everything. She hoped it would be enough.
