Rise of the Banished She-Wolf (Evelyn) novel Chapter 70

**Where Falling Leaves Whisper Stories Written In Silence by Ryn Jace Reed**

After enduring all the chaos of hospital visits and the exhausting family drama, I craved nothing more than a moment of peace. The world outside felt overwhelming, but as I pushed open the door to Memory Diner and heard the cheerful jingle of the little bell above, a wave of relief washed over me. This was my sanctuary, a place where I could finally exhale.

From her post behind the counter, Lydia looked up, her face lighting up with a smile that radiated warmth. At eighty-six, her movements had slowed, but her eyes remained sharp and full of life.

“Eve!” she exclaimed, her voice brightening the dim diner. “I’ve been waiting for your visit. It’s been too long!”

I returned her smile, feeling the weight of the past few days begin to lift. “Hi, Lydia.”

She stepped out from behind the counter, her gaze scrutinizing me like a grandmother assessing her grandchild. “I’ve heard some troubling things, dear. Are those Gray wolves bothering you again?”

I squared my shoulders, lifting my chin slightly as I met her gaze. “I can handle them now. They can’t hurt me like they used to.”

Lydia’s eyes sparkled with approval. “Good. It’s about time you stood your ground.” She gestured toward a seat at the counter. “Sit down. I’ll brew you some tea.”

As she shuffled away, I caught her muttering under her breath, “Karma, all of it. That family is finally reaping what they’ve sown.”

The familiar, comforting scent of herbs wafted through the air as Lydia returned, placing a steaming mug before me. I wrapped my fingers around the warm ceramic, savoring the soothing heat.

“Lydia,” I started, reaching into my bag, “there’s something important I want to discuss.” I pulled out a folder filled with meticulously detailed plans and spread them across the counter. “I’m planning to restore the old Sterling estate—Isabel’s home on the outskirts.”

Lydia’s eyes widened in surprise as she examined the blueprints. Her son, Ryan, who had been cleaning tables nearby, stopped to peer over my shoulder, curiosity etched across his face.

“Jesus, Eve,” he breathed, his finger tracing the budget estimate. “This will cost a fortune. Sixty million, at least.”

“I know,” I replied, flipping through the pages to reveal intricate renderings of the mansion’s restoration. “But I’ve found the right company for the job. They specialize in historic properties, especially those with… unique requirements.”

Lydia’s fingers trembled slightly as she traced the outline of what had once been Isabel’s garden. “Only you truly understand what your grandmother left behind,” she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. “That house holds more than just memories; it’s a part of our history.”

Ryan whistled low, disbelief evident in his tone. “Where are you getting that kind of money, Eve?”

Before I could formulate a response, the bell above the door chimed again. I turned, instantly recognizing Lily’s voice as she stepped inside, followed closely by Jack, Eric, and my heart skipped a beat—Devon.

Our eyes met across the room, and that familiar spark of electricity ignited between us. He looked weary but smiled as he caught sight of me, his broad shoulders relaxing just a fraction.

“Evelyn,” he said, his deep voice sending a delightful shiver down my spine.

Instead of retreating to the private area in the back, Devon opted for a table in the main dining room, a choice that surprised me.

Jack limped slightly as he made his way to the table, wincing with each step.

“You shouldn’t be out of the hospital yet,” Eric scolded, helping him settle into a chair. “Those silver wounds need time to heal properly.”

“I wasn’t staying in that bed another minute,” Jack grumbled, determination etched on his face. “Besides, I heard this place has magical healing powers.”

I exchanged a knowing glance with Lydia, who nodded subtly in agreement. I slipped into the kitchen, returning moments later with a steaming bowl of moonleaf soup, its earthy aroma filling the air with warmth and comfort.

“Healing soup,” I announced, placing it before Jack. “Made with some special herbs that will help with the silver poisoning.”

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