Ximena/Angela's POV
I sat on the veranda, or whatever they claimed to have led me to, but the fresh air helped ease my worry a little. The day was passing by quickly, and nothing seemed to be working out. No solid evidence for Hudson’s case, and no matching donor for Tristan’s transplant. Maybe the fresh air wasn’t enough; if it was, I wouldn’t be thinking so deeply right now. But the most frustrating part is the fact that I couldn’t see. If I had my sight, I’d be up and running, calling and visiting anyone I knew to help. How did I even lose my sight? The fall wasn’t that bad, compared to the one before I regained my memory. Is this some kind of divine test?“Your phone is ringing, ma’am,” Penelope said, handing the phone to me.“Who is calling?” I asked.“Aunt Sadie,” she replied.I picked up the call. “Good day, Aunt Sadie,” I greeted, my tone lightening up.“Good day, Angela. How are you doing today?” she asked, concerned.Ximena/Angela's POVAndrew helped me out of the car when we reached Aunt Sadie’s house.“Are we there?” I asked him.“Yes, ma’am.”Just then, Aunt Sadie came rushing over. “Where is the pianist, Angela?” she asked, grabbing my hand and leading me inside.“Do you expect me to find a pianist in thirty minutes?” I retorted. “It’s not like there’s an opera house nearby where I could just drag one out.”“What are we going to do now? I can’t play either,” she said, helping me sit down on the couch. She sat beside me.“Can you explain what this is all about?” I asked.“There’s a piano hidden in a safe house on the outskirts of the city. It always baffled me why Adeline would go there just to check on the piano. And the strangest part is she had guards posted at a lonely safe house. That piqued my curiosity. I tried many times to sneak in there alone to see what was in the piano, but I failed,” she explained, then pause
Ximena/Angela's POV“I never knew,” I told Nevaeh after her explanation.“It’s okay. It’s in the past now, anyway,” she sniffed, wiping her tears, I believe. “So, what’s the sudden interest in a piano?” she asked.“Um, I’m not sure, but Aunt Sadie claims to have seen a VHS cassette in a piano that Adeline used to play occasionally.”“What does a VHS cassette have to do with anything?”“She believes there is a hidden truth in it,” I replied.“So, what now? Does she need someone to play the piano or something?”“Exactly. There is a code that unlocks a drawer in the piano where the VHS cassette is kept. I hired a pianist earlier, but none of his tunes could open the drawer,” I explained, feeling overwhelmed.“Well, I don’t know. Besides, I don’t trust that woman. She is not trustworthy.”“I know, but we have to give it a try. What if it’s the key to setting your dad free?” I tried to persuade her.
Ximena/Angela’s POVAunt Sadie was on about the pianist again. She said he had arrived, and I should hurry to the safe house.“I have to go out, Nevaeh. Aunt Sadie found another pianist, and she wants us to give him a try,” I told her after hanging up the call.“I will come with you. Just give me a minute to change,” she said, heading to the bathroom. She paused and looked back at me. “You should stop calling that woman ‘Aunt.’ She doesn’t deserve that much respect,” she added before going in.In about thirty minutes, we arrived at the safe house. “Is he making progress?” I asked Aunt Sadie as soon as we entered.“He is just getting started,” she replied.The pianist began playing, hitting the keys, over and over, just like the first one.“I think it’s time we grab an axe and crack this thing open. What do you think?” I suggested, feeling frustrated. “My legs are aching.”“Not as badly as mine,” Nevaeh added.
Ximena/Angela’s POV“Your grandma is worse than the devil,” Aunt Sadie said.“Don’t talk to me. Weren’t you her accomplice?” Nevaeh snapped.“I never killed anybody,” Aunt Sadie defended herself.“Did anyone notice the video is finished, and we have found nothing important?” I asked, drawing their attention.“It’s not finished, Angela. It’s a compiled VHS. There are multiple episodes,” Aunt Sadie explained and started the next video.We watched as Miss White, Camila, stormed into Adeline’s room.“How dare you?” Camila growled, marching to Adeline’s side.“Watch your tone, young lady. What is it?” Adeline warned, glaring at her.“I heard everything, Adeline! You are planning to take everything from my husband. What kind of mother are you?” Camila reprimanded her.“This is a huge mistake. No one should ever confront Adeline,” I commented, speaking from experience.Tears streamed down Nev
Ximena/Angela’s POVI broke down in tears, wailing. None of the women’s HLAs matched Tristan’s. What do I do? Where should I go from here? I can’t let my baby die. “God, please help me.”“What happened, ma’am?” Rita rushed over.“None of them matched, Rita. I’m losing my child,” I sobbed, feeling my heart pounding in my chest.“Don’t say that, ma’am. Nothing will happen to Tristan. I truly believe it,” she tried to comfort me, but her words couldn’t reach me.“Call any advertising agency. Tell them to find donors for me. Nothing must happen to Tristan, please.”“I will do that, but please stop crying. Remember the story you told me about Tristan’s birth? You said you had a terrible accident while pregnant with him, one that almost took your life. But nothing happened to the pregnancy. It was a miracle, ma’am. God saved Tristan back then, not to take him away now at five years old, but for him to grow into a great man. This is jus
Attention ❗❗❗ Ximena is a Spanish name pronounced as Himena. In Spanish, it is known as Jimena, with the J being pronounced as an H. Ximena’s POV Pushing my bag across the floor, I shuffled into my aunt’s abode. I paused suddenly, my gaze fixated on the opulent Mercedes-Benz GLA-class parked in the compound. A man in a white dress shirt and black trousers stood beside it. My heart skipped a beat. Could this be another potential suitor? It wouldn't be the first time Aunt Sadie has tried to arrange my marriage to wealthy men. She wants me out of her home and possibly out of her life. I still remember my last potential groom, who called off the supposed union when I informed him of my modeling career. Since then, Aunt Sadie has forbidden me from attending any modeling gigs. "Are you alright, Miss?" the man's question snapped me out of my reverie. I looked up to find him staring at me. "I'm fine," I replied curtly and made my way inside before he could say anything else. As I e
Ximena's POV Having put forth an attempt to alleviate Mila's crying, I offered words of comfort in the sterile confines of the hospital. We both occupied seats, awaiting the doctor's report. Despite Aunt Sadie's less-than-ideal character, she remained a member of my family. The one who fulfilled my basic needs, providing nourishment, clothing, and shelter. Should I dwell on her attempts to trade me off to men and harbor resentment towards her? Or should I focus on her acts of kindness, inviting me into her home and empathizing with Mila's tears? I believe the latter option would be more suitable. "Don't fret, Mila. Aunt is a resilient woman. She will pull through," I assured her. Mila nodded, her tears showing no signs of stopping. “Mila?” the doctor called, walking toward us. “How is she, doctor?” we inquired, speaking in unison. "Unfortunately, her condition has deteriorated over time, Ximena," the doctor reported. "She requires immediate surgery, or we might lose her." "No, do
Ximena's POV As I accepted the current state of affairs, it had been a little over a week since Aunt Sadie's collapse. Thankfully, she had been discharged and was now under good care. However, my own life had been thrown into turmoil. I found myself in my room, dressed in all-white attire, with a makeup artist perfecting my hair. Today was my wedding day, a moment that most women eagerly anticipate, but for me, it was a different story. I was destined to marry the most despicable man I had ever heard of - Hudson Miles Lucas. Despite never meeting him in person, his name was often on everyone's lips in California. As I gazed at my reflection in the mirror, I had to admit that the makeup artist had done a decent job. My long, wavy black hair was styled in a way that secured my veil on top of my head. The cost of my wedding dress alone could sustain my family for generations to come. This was the reality I was facing today. If only my mother could be here to witness this day. Not the fac