She quivered in her voice but stood firm. "You left him. You left us. Do you have any idea how many times I wished to know my father's family? Longed to feel part of it? And now you just appear as if everything is fine."Tears started flowing from her eyes, for every single word seemed to hit her very soul, bringing forth hurt and anger at the same time. She felt utterly wronged that after all these years, Wendy was there, proposing that they could just fix everything as if time could erase itself.Wendy's eyes lowered, her hands shaking as she bound them together. "I don't ask for forgiveness, Sabrina. I don't expect it. I only wanted you to know that despite how I've failed, I'm here now for you. I came to make amends, whatever that means."The room grew quiet, save for the ticking of the clock. For one moment, nothing seemed alive in that room except that ticking. Sabrina gazed at Wendy, noting that even in this stiffness of posture, there was weakness. She could feel her own walls
And so Wendy stood outside Leila's small home, her hand shaking a little as she raised it to knock on the door; but it opened before she could do that, and there stood Leila, her eyes wide with surprise and a touch of wariness." Wendy," Leila said quietly, flicking a quick look down at Sabrina, who was at play on the floor of the living room playing with a doll. "Leila, I… I came uninvited," Wendy's voice quivered as she clutched her purse tightly, her knuckles white."I just… I need to talk to you both." Leila hesitated but nodded, stepping back to let Wendy inside. Wendy looked at Sabrina, who looked up before quickly returning to her doll, her face expressionless, almost guarded. "Thank you, Leila." Wendy gently spoke, her voice almost a whisper as she settled on the edge of the couch. It was a small, simple space, so different from the life she was used to. It no longer mattered to her now though.She was here for something that money couldn't give back to her. Leila sat across
Benedict looked out of the great office window, allowing the blurred city skyline to converge with his thoughts and memories of Sabrina. With each passing day, the absence was felt more, though a part of him did not want to acknowledge it. Sabrina loved him. He knew that. She had stayed with him all these years, through everything he had done in order to give her reason to leave. She was loyal, resilient, forgiving – everything he had ever taken for granted.She had left, and every nook and corner of their home felt empty without her warmth, without her soft laughter and gentle presence."No, no," he muttered to himself, his hands in fists. "She'll come back. She loves me too much to be away for so long.".He slumped back in his chair, fighting off the growing ache in his chest. Remembrances of the last time he saw her danced through his head - the hollowing of her eyes, drained of that quiet light he always admired, even though he hadn't admitted it. But he'd pushed it aside. He hadn
Teresa knocked on her son's mansion door. Her excitement made her heartbeat feel like it was going at an extremely fast pace. She had already prepared a small bag of gifts-some supplements and treats-she wanted to bring to her son for his daughter. She could hardly contain her anticipation as she knew that in just a couple of months, she would finally hold her first grandchild in her arms. The thought of Sabrina's gentle smile as she thanked her was enough to make Teresa's heart feel a little warm. She was so glad for her son and for his bride, though she realized that her son had his… limitations.As she reached out and up to open the door she called out, her own voice filled with delight, "Sabrina! Sabrina, are you home?But before she could knock, the maid, hastily opening the door, looked tight inside her face with a worrisome, wringing hands, and kind of confused appearance about what she had to say."Madam Teresa," she replied lowly, averting her eyes.Teresa immediately picked
But as Teresa left the room, a heavy silence settled over Benedict. There he was alone and in the midst of the mess he had created, and the love he had smashed to pieces. The walls convulsed inward on him, presenting vivid reminders of how the emptiness Sabrina's presence once filled. His heart twisted painfully, now pressed with the weight of his mistakes that, at last, allowed him to finally break.Benedict was looking at a bottle of supplements. The truth of Sabrina's pregnancy was like a punch to his chest-she was carrying his child. I did not remember the last time he showed her kindness, and more so, love. Now, the mother of his child, the woman who had stayed by him through everything, was gone.A desperate hope flared to life within him. He had to set things right. He had to prove to her that he could change, even if it was going to take years to regain her trust. He could see now, in jarring clarity, just how much he had hurt her, how much she'd given him, and how callously h
Every day that passed, Benedict's heart grew heavier. He had spent all his waking hours searching for Sabrina, visiting every possible place she might have gone. He revisited the cafés, the quiet parks she often frequented, and even the hospital where they first met. All those searches proved futile, and the desperation in him only grew more with each day that passed. He even reached out to his mother, Teresa, hoping to connect with her as a mother figure. But Sabrina's phone number was disconnected, and the hometown she spoke of long ago seemed to have vanished from Teresa's memory. All he clutched for light was nothing but sand slipping away.One evening, Teresa discovered him sitting alone in the dimly lit study, staring blankly at a photograph of Sabrina he had kept on his desk. She laid a soft hand on his shoulder and looked into his face, filled with sympathy and concern. "Perhaps she doesn't want to be found right now. People need their space sometimes, don’t they?" she whisper
As the two stood before the splendor of the estate, Sabrina smiled tentatively down at her mother, Leila.She was Wendy Taylor, the new person in their lives, who revealed herself as Sabrina's grandmother. She was providing them with much more than just a roof over their heads; she was offering them an opportunity to heal, rebuild, and start anew - without the hurt and disappointments the past represented.There stood Wendy, the powerful magnate known for her empire of real estate and lending companies across America, with her head held high but her gaze soft. In a warm voice, she addressed both of them. "This is your home now," Wendy said gently, squeezing Sabrina's hand as she reached out. "I should have been there for both of you sooner—for my son and for you, Leila and Sabrina. I can't change the past, but I can give you a future—one with security and peace that was never meant to be enjoyed by my son. You both deserve nothing less." Sabrina breathed deeply. Her mother's hand ste
It was just one quiet morning, with sunbeams streaming through the kitchen windows as they took their seats around the breakfast table. Sabrina suddenly felt a wave of nausea, her stomach turning over in shock as she covered her mouth, paling. It wasn't that either of them couldn't tell, even from across the table. Wendy's eyes narrowed to slits immediately, with a mix of concern and curiosity written all over her face."Do you think you might possibly be pregnant, Sabrina, darling?" Wendy asked softly, putting down her teacup. Sabrina's face flushed, and her eyes looked down at the plate, unable to confront her grandmother. She sat patiently, and after a few seconds of silence, Sabrina nodded softly into her plate. "It might work. Things were crazy with Benedict, but I got out before it became clear."With a deep sigh, Wendy reached over, her hand resting warmly on Sabrina's. "Well then," she said, "now it's my turn to hear everything. I want to know about life with the Thompsons an
She bit down on her bottom lip as she looked directly into his eyes and nodded almost imperceptibly."Yes baby. Please make me cum," she whispered. Slowly, agonisingly, he planted wet open mouthed kisses down her body, savoring the taste of her skin. Her travelled lower into the crevice of his nostrils filled his head with her fragrance in the scent of her. Down her chest then between her breasts, his mouth moved slowly. Then over her stomach, tracing his way as he went down her sides were her hands. A playful circle around her bellybutton by his tongue as he drifted lower.His hands rested on her breasts as his mouth approached her mound, squeezing them and teasing her nipples with his palms. As he moved ever lower, she shifted her hips, spreading her smooth, full thighs wider apart. He paused for a moment to look at her before he continued. Her pink pussy lips were opened like a flower and covered in her juices. Barely peeking through its cloak was her clit, throbbing in anticipatio
His gentle probe meeting no resistance, he pressed further. As he did, her lips parted more fully and their tongues met. Both sighing as their bodies melted together, they began kissing in earnest. Tongues swirling around one another, seeking, exploring.She raised her arms to rest on his shoulders and began caressing the back of his head as their tongues danced together. His right hand began sliding up her back, under her T-shirt as his left slid beneath the waistband of her bottoms. With a deft snap, her bra was unhooked and his hand began sliding slowly to her side, pushing the bra up and out of the way. A small gasp left her lips as his palm slid softly over her hardening nipple while his hand moved to cup her breast."Absolutely perfect," he thought to himself as his thumb lightly played over her nipple, exciting it further. Not too large, but definitely a handful, and he had large hands. Just right.His left hand followed the curve of her shapely ass and cupped first one and th
The next morning sizzling bacon fragrance and freshly brewing coffee streamed out into the kitchen. Benedict remained by the stove with a folded dishtowel slung casually over his shoulder; he tenderly flipped hotcakes in a pan. A warm sunbeam filled windows by letting some light into the apartment.The kitchen door opens, and in walks Sabrina, throwing out her arms, sighing comfortably. She had her hair tied back in a loose bun and a T-shirt flowed loose over her pajama pants. "Good morning, " she murmured in a sleep-causing gentle but warm voice.Benedict turned to face her with a cup of coffee in his hand. "Good morning, " he counters with a grin. "Yes, I brought you coffee.".Her eyes lit up as she reached for the mug; her fingers brushed his in the move. "You're a lifesaver," she said, taking a deep sip. The warmth of the drink seemed to wake her up instantly. "And breakfast smells amazing."Benedict chuckled and jabbed a finger at the bag of fast food on the counter. "Not just ho
"We'll face this together," Sabrina assured him. "Just like we always do."Leslie, Sabrina's mother, stood at the doorway with her arms crossed, unspoken authority in the air. "Yeah, we agreed on that, Benedict," she said calmly but firmly. "Safety first before anything else. Nothing else matters now.".Wendy, Sabrina's grandmother, nodded in agreement from her seat on the sofa. In her old age, she had a presence and an authority that few could challenge. "Leslie's right," she said decisively. "Family comes first. It always has been, always will be. The wedding can wait. Keeping you all safe is the priority.".Benedict nodded slowly, grateful for the support from Sabrina's family. "Thank you, both of you. It means a lot to have you here, backing us up.".Just then, Saben came bounding into the room as if he could read the mood turning. He alighted his face with excitement while clutching some small stuffed animal in his hand. He let out a "Mommy! Daddy! See! Mr. Bunny wears a new shir
Because this wasn't just about survival. It was about showing the world and everyone who had doubted her—that Clara Hemp was unstoppable.Clara Hemp's flight had been effortless. Under cover of darkness she had slipped away from the city and into a silent solitude which was perfect to disappear in. There were no flashing lights, nor wailing sirens, merely rustling in the wind against the leaves, occasional crickets to tickle her ear, and an earthy-warm scent: here was a place where she can formulate a scheme, regain herself, and perhaps devise how to get herself out of the place.She rented a tiny, dilapidated farmhouse in cash, with a fake ID, from an unsuspecting elderly owner. There was no one around for miles, and the closest town was thirty minutes away, so it made a perfect hideout. Her days were spent lying low, watching the news programs for any information related to the search for her, and nights spent studying her maps, planning her next move.Clara smiled to herself as she
Clara opened her eyes and looked out at the darkened countryside, the lights of the small town fading into the distance. Her smirk returned as she thought about the news reports and the manhunt. The media could paint her as a dangerous criminal all they wanted. In her mind, this was no escape—it was a reclamation of power. They thought they had her caged, their rules and walls capable of holding her. But Clara knew better. She always had a way out."They think they're hunting me," she whispered to herself, the words muffled by the soft hum of the train. She trailed a finger along the edge of her seat, her mind tallying up what she needed to do next. "But they're the ones being played."But it wasn't just freedom. It was proof she could outsmart them all—doctors, guards, boys in boots. Even Benedict. Her lips were clamped shut at the thought of that smirk on his face. Benedict Thompson. The man who thought he was better than she, who'd stolen her power and sent her to rot in a cold, st
On the screen appeared the mugshot of Clara with piercing eyes as if daring any one to stand in her way. The anchor continued with an obvious tension in the voice."Clara Hemp, convicted felon with fraud, conspiracy, and attempted murder and kidnapping. Her history shows a pattern of manipulation and elusiveness. Cunning and resourceful are the adjectives that define Clara Hemp. Therefore, this escape was rather worrying.And meanwhile, Clara melted into the shadows of the city, those baggy pants and loose sweatshirt making her almost invisible to all the eyes stirring around her. She didn't look up; she didn't establish eye contact with anyone either. She stopped at a convenience store, her face hidden under the mask she had taken from the nurse's uniform.She grabbed a payphone from the rack by the counter, a bottle of water, and a snack. She handed the cashier a crumpled bill, avoiding the television playing in the corner."Thanks," Clara mumbled, her voice indistinct through the m
Clara did not know, but a person sitting not too far from the center of the car had noticed odd behavior from Clara. A male in his early thirties, wearing a leather jacket and sporting a worn backpack, kept looking her way. He had gotten on at the same station and could remember seeing her pause by the platform, her movements furtive.She's hiding something, he thought to himself, instincts honed over years working as a private investigator.He shot a discreet photo of Clara. Her face was masked, and her entire body seemed tensed. He brought up his local news app to scan through headlines for the past several days.It didn't take long to find the article: "Convicted Criminal Escapes Mental Health Facility." The grainy photo of Clara accompanying the article was unmistakable.The man's heart was racing as he glanced back toward her. She was staring out the window now, seemingly lost in thought. Should I report this? Or follow her and see where she's going?He thought for a moment befor
The ringing of the telephone cut into the heavy, tense silence of the evening. Sabrina sat in the living room with a cup of tea and looked around at Benedict, who paced up and down across the window, deepening his face for one word with each statement made by the person on the phone.Thanks, he muttered into the receiver before hanging it back up on the phone.Sabrina set her cup of tea aside. "What is it?" she asked, though she could already feel the response constricting in her chest."It's Clara," Benedict said in a low tone, laced with rage. "She's escaped."Sabrina rose up from the chair, hand automatically reaching her mouth. "Escaped? How? Isn't she under observation at all times?Benedict nodded his head, his jaw clenched. "She attacked a nurse, took her uniform, and just walked out of the facility. They didn't even realize she was missing until she had almost walked halfway out the door."Sabrina's fists curled up into tight balls. "And they are telling us this now?"They're