I woke slowly, groggy and disoriented, the sterile smell of antiseptic filling my nostrils. The soft beeping of machines was a constant, steady rhythm, a reminder that I was still alive. My body ached all over, a dull, persistent pain that seemed to come from everywhere at once.
I tried to shift slightly, wincing as a sharp pain shot through my side. My eyes fluttered open, the harsh overhead lights making me squint. The room was a blur of white walls and medical equipment. It took me a moment to remember where I was and what had happened—the accident, the lorry, the crash. As my vision cleared, I noticed a familiar figure standing at the foot of my bed. My mother. For a moment, a flicker of hope sparked within me. Maybe she had come to apologize, to show some semblance of care. But the look in her eyes was cold, calculating, devoid of any warmth. She approached the bed, her steps deliberate and slow. My heart pounded in my chest, the beeping of the monitor quickening in response. I wanted to say something, to ask her why she was here, but my throat was dry, and the words wouldn’t come. Without a word, she reached over to the machines, her fingers moving with unsettling precision. I watched in horror as she began to unplug the various cords and tubes connected to me. The beeping of the heart monitor became erratic, then flatlined into a continuous, ominous tone. "Now it is so quiet right?" "Mother," I croaked, my voice barely more than a whisper. She looked down at me, her expression icy and unyielding. She bends a little and takes a seat beside me. "Finally, we're here alone, just the two of us," panic surged through me, my body struggling against the pain and weakness. I tried to reach out to stop her, but my limbs felt like lead. "Can I be honest with you now?" she said, her voice devoid of any emotion. "Emma, from the get-go, I never liked you," desperation clawed at me, but my body was too weak, my voice too faint. I could only watch aimlessly. Her face twisted with a cruel, cold smile. "Do you remember? The day we first met," her voice eerily calm. "At the orphanage, you were just a small, frightened child, and you offered me a cup of water." I remembered. I remembered the small kindness, the way I had looked up at her with wide, hopeful eyes. "You tried so hard to win me over, and you succeeded. But when you moved in with us, you cried saying you felt bad that you were now living in a nice house, eating good food when the other kids at the children's home weren't," tears welled up in my eyes. "I was baffled when you did that and I became more curious over time. I wonder how much longer you will be able to hide your greed. I always ask you if you need anything and you always turn me down. I waited for the day you won't be able to keep your pathetic ways until the day I saw your genuine smile at Zayn and I think I caught you." "Observing this, you taught me everything. A life where you can't even say what you want. And living that life, not even knowing that people look down on you and badmouth you for that. It really is the worst," tears begin to find a way to flow out of my eyes because have never imagined this angel would turn into my worst nightmare. As I lay there, feeling life slip away, she straightened up, reached into her bag, and pulled out a small mirror with meticulous care. She adjusted her hair, ensuring every stand was perfectly in place. "Let me give you a piece of advice for our last times' sake," she moved closer to the bed I was laid on, bending little to a level of kissing me. "In your next life, don't be too nice," another drop of tear fell from my eyes. "It only makes your own life more difficult," she said softly, almost to herself.The truth is, I really can't believe this. I was not a good girl. I remembered my mistress. She was a stern but kind woman, with a heart much softer than her demeanor suggested. She had a way of making us all feel seen and valued, even when the world outside seemed to overlook us. It all began one afternoon, she called me into her small, cluttered office, the air filled with the scent of old books and the faint aroma of lavender from the sachets she kept in her drawers. "Sit down, dear," she said, her voice gentle but firm. I took a seat, my small legs dangling off the chair. "Is something wrong, Mistress?" I asked, my heart pounding with a mixture of fear and curiosity because I didn't know what have done this time. She smiled, the lines on her face softening. "No, Emma. Nothing is wrong. Everything is alright, I just want to talk to you about something important." I nodded, my eyes wide with anticipation. "You're a good girl, Emma," she began, her gaze steady and warm. "A
Standing in the living room, I faced my mother, or rather, the woman who had raised me. My heart was a fortress of ice, my words sharpened by the memo of betrayal. Her brow furrowed in confusion. "What? Say it again," her hand ran through her hair and then down to her neck, a nervous habit I'd want to see from now on. "I'm not marrying Zayn," I said, my voice cold. Hearing this, she sat her glass of water down, her hands shaking slightly. Her face hardened with her eyes flashing with anger. "I feel under the weather." A flicker of confusion crosses her face, a rare crack in her otherwise impenetrable facade. She blinked, taken aback by my sudden coldness. Her gaze shifted momentarily, and she noticed the maid stand silently by the doorway, a witness of our fractured exchange. "Go get me some chicken. I'll boil it for dinner." She instructed the maid, her voice unnaturally steady. The maid nodded and quietly exited the room, leaving us in a sense of silence. "Don't you
Sitting on my bed, my mother and sister's cutting words still fresh in my mind, I felt a surge of determination. They had treated me with such contempt, and I was done being a scapegoat.My finger hovered over my phone, scrolling through my contacts until I found the name I was looking for, Mia. Not only was she a good friend, but she was also a reporter and the cousin of my sister's boyfriend, Amory.I took a deep breath and pressed the call button. After a few rings, Mia picked up."Hey! Long time no talk," she said cheerfully."Hey, Mia. It's me," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. "When are you free? I need to talk to you about something important.""Is everything okay?" she asked, cover creeping into her voice. "Not really," I admitted. "But I'd rather explain in person. Can we meet at that little restaurant downtown? The one we used to go to.""Sure, I can be there in an hour," she agreed without hesitation. "See you soon."Hanging up the phone, I felt a mix of nervousn
With the information in hand, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. I would meet Amory first, charm him, and set my plan into motion. They had underestimated me for too long, it was time for them to face the consequences of their actions. The next day, I dressed carefully, choosing an outfit that was elegant yet approachable. I arrived at the Noelle hotel well before 4 pm and found a spot where I could watch for Amory Without being seen. My heart pounded as I waited, determined to make my move. At 3:45 pm, I saw him walk into the hotel's luxurious lobby. He was tall, with a hair of quiet confidence. My pulse quickened. This was a chance. I watched as he sat down in one of the plush armchairs, glancing occasionally at his phone. Taking a deep breath, I approached him. My feet felt heavy with fear, but I forced myself to move forward. "Hello, Amory. Could I sit for a second?" I asked, flashing a polite smile. Amory looked up in surprise. "Emma?" Hearing this sends down a mix
"What? Don't you know you're no longer our family when you get married off? You should think about your family now that you're married. You shouldn't be so greedy". "I'm so sorry Mother," l lost all my appetite for a smile. Loads of water are already gathering in my eyes waiting for a blink for them to drop. "Hurry up and get rid of it, we don't want anyone to think our exhibition is lousy, " she turned to take her leave. "That's so harsh mother," Elena also turned, forming her lips to make a mockery of me. "Instead of looking at the painting, can't you see how I feel? Sure, I may not be up to your standard, but I worked so hard on it with all my heart," I spurted out as tears rolled down my cheeks. "Hey listen, you were working on that painting while you should've been working harder. That's why I was upset." "I'm sorry. I misunderstood you. It's for a good cause, so I'm doing my best and I won't disappoint you," I retorted, trying to find her favor. "Let me know if you
Have you ever felt like your heart has been put in a mincer? That is how I feel right now looking at them. I feel like my heart has been shredded into pieces. I wanted to run away. To look away, but I don't want him to see me feeling jealous of him. Unfortunately, Amory's phone rang, giving me the chance to leave the room. Feeling a lump form in my throat, I excused myself to the bathroom, needing a moment to compose myself. As I splashed cool water on my face, I couldn't share the feeling of inadequacy that gnawed at me, wondering all over my sister's words. As I hurried out of the bathroom, my mind still swirling with emotions, I failed to notice the figure approaching from the opposite direction. Before I could react, I collided with someone, nearly stumbling backward in surprise. Looking up, I find myself face-to-face with Amory. His eyes widened momentarily in shock before softening with concern. "Oh, I'm so sorry," he exclaimed, reaching out to steady me. His touch w
With my heart racing, I follow the officers, determined to uncover the source of the disturbance. As I rounded the corner, my breath caught in my throat when I saw the appearance of someone lashing out, slapping someone. Someone familiar, someone I never expected to see in such a predicament with a force that echoed through the room. It was my mother who was being slapped by one of her customers, Mrs Rodriquez. Shock and disbelief washed over me as I struggled to make sense of the scene unfolding before my eyes. How could this be happening? What had led my own mother to be slapped by someone not up to her level as she always claimed? Shock and horror coursed through me as I watched my mother stagger backward, her hand flying to her cheek in disbelief as she collapsed within a second with her assistant manager gripping her to stand. "The police will find out. What should I do?" I read the words forming on her lips. She whispers to her manager's eardrum. I can see the look o
Tip-toeing through the room looking for Zayn. I can hear my sister's voice echoing in the next room in front of me. I decided to make some silent runs and prevent my hill from making a sound against the tiles. Almost at the edge of entering the room, I could hear my sister's voice. "You have feelings for me? I already know you made it so obvious," I move closer to stay at the entrance to hear clearly and see who she's speaking with. "Only a dense fool like my sister wouldn't realize," what I heard shattered my heart. "I thought it was just a phase and overlooked your cute crush. But how dare you?'' She takes two steps forward, closing the space between them. "How any of you and Emma are so similar? Why do you both not know your place?" her voice rang out with anger, each word a sharp dagger cutting through the air. Her words echoed in the room. "You desire the things you can't have and create a mess…" her voice cut when she realized my presence from the entrance, a look of