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The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of Aunt Lou’s cozy living room, casting soft patterns across the wooden floors. I sat cross-legged on the couch, a mug of tea warming my hands. Across from me, Aunt Lou watched me intently, her eyes full of concern and patience.“It’s been days, Margarette,” she said softly, breaking the silence. “You’ve barely talked about what’s going on.”I sighed, staring into the swirling tea. “There’s not much to say,” I murmured, though the knot in my chest told a different story. “I saw William with that woman, Aunt Lou. She was fixing his tie, laughing like they shared some private joke. And William... he didn’t even look guilty.”Aunt Lou leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “But did you hear his explanation? Maybe it wasn’t what it looked like.”I shook my head. “I left before he could say anything. And now, the more I think about it, the more I feel like no explanation would change how I felt in that moment. My gut tells me so
The following day dawned with a heaviness that I couldn’t shake. Aunt Lou’s advice lingered in my mind like a persistent whisper: Start with yourself. But how could I, when the weight of everything felt so unbearable?I stood in the kitchen, idly stirring a pot of oatmeal for Lucas. He sat at the table, coloring a picture of what he proudly told me was “Mommy and me at the park.” His innocent smile tugged at my heart, reminding me that no matter how chaotic my life felt, Lucas deserved a mother who was present and strong.As the oatmeal bubbled, Aunt Lou appeared in the doorway, holding a newspaper in one hand and her ever-present mug of tea in the other.“Good morning, dear,” she said, setting the paper on the counter. “How are you feeling today?”“Same as yesterday,” I admitted, sighing. “Confused, tired, unsure about everything.”She nodded knowingly. “It’s a process, Margarette. You’re doing the best you can, and that’s all anyone can ask.”Lucas looked up from his drawing. “Mommy
The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the Vancouver skyline in hues of orange and pink. The warmth of the day lingered in the air, but my thoughts felt as cold as a winter wind. I sat in the living room, absently watching Lucas build a tower with his wooden blocks. His little giggles filled the room, but my heart was heavy with the burden of unresolved emotions.Aunt Lou was in the kitchen, humming softly as she prepared tea. The tranquility of the scene was disrupted by the buzzing of my phone. My heart sank when I saw the name flashing on the screen: William.I stared at the phone, debating whether to answer, but ultimately let it go to voicemail. I had made it clear I needed time. Yet, a part of me wondered if I was avoiding him not because of anger, but because of fear—fear that his explanation might force me to confront the possibility that I’d been wrong.The next morning, as sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows, Aunt Lou set down two steaming mugs of coffee and sat
I stayed in William’s arms for what felt like forever, the warmth of his embrace slowly thawing the coldness I had built around my heart. His steady heartbeat against my ear was a quiet reminder of all the moments we had shared, the trust we had once built, and the love that still lingered between us despite the pain and misunderstanding.When I finally pulled away, I wiped my tears, feeling a mix of vulnerability and relief. William’s hand lingered on my shoulder, his thumb brushing lightly against my skin.“Margarette,” he began softly, “I’ll spend as long as it takes to rebuild what we’ve lost. But I need to know…do you think we can try again? Not just for Lucas, but for us?”I met his gaze, and for the first time in weeks, I let myself really look at him—not through the lens of doubt or fear, but with the eyes of the woman who had fallen in love with him in the first place. He looked tired, but his expression was open and raw, filled with an honesty I couldn’t ignore.“I don’t kno
The morning light spilled across the cottage floor, warming the wooden planks and bathing the room in a golden glow. I sat at the kitchen table, a steaming mug of coffee in my hands, watching the sun rise over the grove of trees outside. The smell of freshly baked muffins wafted from the oven, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I felt at peace.Lucas’s laughter carried from the living room, where he and William were busy constructing a makeshift fort from blankets and chairs. Their bond had strengthened over the past few weeks, and seeing them together filled me with a bittersweet mixture of relief and longing.Relief that Lucas was happy again. Longing for the kind of connection William and I had once shared.“Mommy!” Lucas’s voice rang out, pulling me from my thoughts. He peeked around the corner, his face flushed with excitement. “Come see our fort! Daddy William says it’s the best one yet!”I set down my mug and followed him into the living room, where William st
The air in Vancouver had grown crisp, the kind of chill that hinted at the coming winter. William, Lucas, and I had settled into a comfortable rhythm over the past weeks, rediscovering what it meant to be a family. There was still tension at times, unspoken questions and lingering wounds, but for the most part, we were healing.Today, we decided to take Lucas to a park near the bustling city center. It was one of those sprawling urban green spaces, with wide paths for walking, a sparkling lake with ducks, and a playground teeming with children. Lucas had been ecstatic about the idea, and his excitement was contagious.“Mommy, watch me!” Lucas called, his voice brimming with joy as he climbed the ladder of a play structure. He waved enthusiastically before sliding down, his laughter filling the crisp autumn air.William chuckled beside me. “He’s got your energy.”“Or your determination,” I replied with a small smile, watching Lucas dart toward the swings.As Lucas played, William and I
A few days had passed since that unsettling encounter at the park. Life had returned to a semblance of normalcy, but the sight of Richard and Sarah had left an indelible mark on my thoughts. William, ever protective, had brushed it off as a coincidence, but deep down, I knew it was more.I tried to distract myself with routine tasks, one of which brought me to the local supermarket late in the afternoon. Lucas was at home with William, and I had planned to grab a few groceries before heading back. The fluorescent lights of the store buzzed softly overhead as I wandered through the aisles, mindlessly adding items to my cart.Turning a corner, I stopped abruptly.There he was—Richard.He was standing in the produce section, examining a bundle of kale with the kind of intensity one might reserve for life-or-death decisions. For a moment, I considered backing away before he noticed me, but it was too late.His gaze lifted, and our eyes met.“Margarette,” he said, his voice low and steady.
The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains as I stood in the kitchen, preparing Lucas’s favorite breakfast. William had already left early for an urgent business trip, his goodbye kiss a fleeting moment before he disappeared out the door.“I’ll only be gone for three days,” he had reassured me. “But if anything comes up, call me immediately.”“Don’t worry,” I had replied, mustering a smile. “Lucas and I will be fine.”Now, as I watched Lucas happily munch on his pancakes, his little legs swinging beneath the table, I felt a pang of longing for the normalcy of William’s presence. But Lucas’s giggles quickly distracted me.“Mama, can we go to the park later?” he asked, his big, hopeful eyes lighting up his cherubic face.“Maybe,” I said, ruffling his hair. “Let’s see how the day goes.”By mid-afternoon, however, something was clearly wrong.Lucas, who had been running around the living room playing with his toy cars, suddenly sat down, clutching his stomach.“Mama, I don’t feel
The rain was falling again.It always did on days like this—days that felt like endings.I stood on the edge of the cliffs overlooking the stormy waters of Anacortes, my coat pulled tightly around me, the hood shielding my face from the wind that carried the scent of salt and something older—something like goodbye.Leon stood behind me. I didn’t have to turn around to feel him there. His presence was familiar now, carved into my skin like muscle memory. He’d been my gravity, my storm, my salvation, and my ruin—sometimes all at once.“It’s really over, isn’t it?” I whispered, more to the wind than to him.He didn’t answer right away. His silence was as heavy as the stormclouds above us.“I wanted to fix everything for you,” he said finally, his voice hoarse, like it had been dragged across a battlefield. “I wanted to give you a life that didn’t hurt.”I closed my eyes. The ache in my chest pulsed with every beat of my heart. “You did,” I said. “For a while, you did.”I heard the crunch
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “I’m not the same person I was before,” I said, my voice firm, unwavering. “And I’m not walking away this time.”The man’s eyes flickered with a moment of doubt, just enough for me to catch. And then, before I could even register what had happened, Leon moved.Faster than I could blink, Leon was in front of me, his hand grabbing the gun and twisting it out of the man’s grasp. The force of it sent the man stumbling back, but he didn’t go down easily. His bodyguards rushed in, but Leon was already a step ahead, disarming one of them with a swift, calculated move.I stood frozen for a moment, trying to process what I was witnessing. Leon—always so calm, always so careful—was ruthless. He was like a force of nature, determined to protect me at all costs.But the fight wasn’t over yet. The man recovered, his eyes burning with rage. “You really think you’ve won?” he spat, his voice dripping with venom. “You’re nothing but a pawn in a game you can’t ev
The sound of boots drew closer, pounding the floor with an urgency that echoed through the cavernous halls of the estate. My heart raced as the reality of what I had just heard crashed into me like a tidal wave. The man who had once been a part of my life—my family’s betrayer, the one who had orchestrated their deaths—stood there, calmly, as if this was just another night for him.Leon’s grip on my hand tightened, but I didn’t let him pull me away. I could feel the air thickening with tension, the walls pressing in as everything I thought I knew began to crumble.The intruders were only moments away.The man—he—smirked, watching us. “You think this will end well? You’ve no idea what you’re up against. My people are everywhere.”I took a step forward, ignoring Leon’s silent plea to retreat. “You killed them. And you thought I would be the next one to fall in line?” My voice was a whisper, but it held a power I hadn’t realized I had. “You were wrong.”The man’s face faltered, just for a
Next Morning at the Estate Archives. The basement was cold and damp, and the air smelled of mildew and secrets. Old boxes lined the walls, labeled in my father’s tidy script. Financial records. Land deeds. Correspondence.Leon sifted through a crate of documents while I dug through another.Then something caught my eye.A faded folder labeled: Project Thornfield.I opened it slowly.Inside were blueprints—plans for development across coastal land that was supposed to be protected forest. There were signatures from multiple board members, including names I recognized.And then, one I didn’t.N. Vallis.Leon leaned over. “You know that name?”I shook my head. “No. But look here—he signed off on the project two weeks before my parents died.”Leon pulled out his phone. “I’ll run a background check.”I kept flipping through the documents—and found something that made my blood run cold.An aerial photo.Of the cliffside. Our property.With a giant red X drawn over the coordinates where my p
THREE WEEKS LATER...The investigation moved faster than I’d expected. With the board fully on our side now, the paper trail unraveled like a thread pulled from an old sweater—each piece of evidence exposing the next. Shell companies. Forged contracts. Witnesses who had remained silent out of fear but were finally coming forward.Still, no one had seen him since the day of the summit. He had vanished without a trace. No flights. No offshore activity. No messages. It was like he’d disappeared into smoke.But Dorian didn’t believe in ghosts. “He’s hiding,” he said as he handed me a thick folder. “And this—this will force him out.”I flipped through the documents. Bank records. A property registered under an alias. Hidden deep in the woods outside of Anacortes. I felt my stomach twist.Leon stepped up behind me, his hand grazing my shoulder. “Let’s pay him a visit.”The cabin was barely more than a shadow tucked between trees. No lights. No car. Just silence and the thrum of insects in t
Sunlight crept cautiously through the cracks in the blinds, casting golden slivers across the hardwood floor of the safe house bedroom. I sat curled up on the edge of the bed, a blanket draped around my shoulders and the journal heavy in my lap. The cover was cracked, worn with age and secrets. My fingers hovered over the first page for what felt like an eternity.Leon was nearby—he hadn’t slept much, either. He stood at the window with a mug of black coffee, watching the world outside with quiet alertness. When I finally opened the journal, he turned slightly but didn’t speak. He knew I needed silence for this.The first entry was dated nearly two decades ago.July 14th. We signed the contract today. Two families, one future. The woman from Delmar Holdings is more cunning than I expected. She knows we’re desperate—and she used it. I told Mariana to trust me. That this was the only way. God help me, I hope I’m right.My breath hitched. Mariana—that was my mother’s name.I flipped thro
MARGARETTE'S POVBefore we could react, the door behind us burst open.Three armed men rushed in, dressed in black, their movements precise and rehearsed. Leon shoved me behind him, drawing his gun up in an instant. Dorian, who had been lingering near the entrance, took cover behind a cabinet, gun already out.“Elise’s father wasn’t bluffing,” I breathed, my heart hammering. “He had backup ready.”Leon fired the first shot, catching one of the intruders in the shoulder and sending him crashing to the floor. Chaos erupted. Dorian ducked low and returned fire, narrowly missing another attacker who retaliated with a spray of bullets that shattered the windows.I crouched behind an overturned table, the sound of gunfire drowning out my thoughts. The locket in my palm dug into my skin, its edges sharp—a painful reminder that I couldn’t afford to lose control now.“Elise’s father!” I shouted to Leon. “He’s escaping!”Through the haze of smoke and broken glass, I saw the man slinking toward
The sound of footsteps pounding in the hallway was the last thing I heard before the door slammed open.I barely had time to react before a rush of armed men poured into the room, their eyes scanning every corner, landing finally on me. There was no mistaking the intent behind their cold stares.“Get down!” Leon’s voice crackled through the earpiece again, but there was no time to obey. I couldn’t allow myself to hesitate—not now, not when the truth was within reach.I raised my gun, my hands steady despite the chaos unfolding around me. I wasn’t going down without a fight, not after everything I had lost. Not after everything Elise’s father had taken from me.Before the first man could react, I fired. The sound of the shot echoed in the confined space, the bullet finding its mark in the man’s chest. His body crumpled to the ground with a sickening thud, but the others didn’t hesitate. They moved in faster, their guns drawn, but I was ready.I ducked behind the desk, using it as cover
Dawn came in silver slivers through the cracks in the window. I hadn’t slept—not really. My mind was too loud, looping the footage over and over like a broken reel.Leon sat across from me at the table, sipping his coffee like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. Neither of us had said much since the footage. We didn’t need to. The truth had cut so deep, it didn’t leave room for small talk.But I had questions.And I needed answers.“How long do you think he’s known I survived?” I finally asked, voice hoarse.Leon didn’t look away from his mug. “Long enough to start covering his tracks. But he didn’t expect the locket to resurface.”My hand instinctively reached for it. The locket was warm now, like it had absorbed my grief and fury. Inside was a picture of my mother and me—her arm around my tiny shoulders, her smile soft but tired. A photo I hadn’t even remembered until last night.“He killed her,” I whispered. “He killed my father. For what? A project?”“Not just a project,”