She wants her daughter back

Alysha leaned back in the chair, her vision blurring as tears spilled down her cheeks. The memory of Sisi’s sweet voice, her bright giggle, her innocent face as she called out “Mommy,” played over and over in her mind like a haunting melody. The ache in her chest grew sharper, deeper, with each thought. How was it possible that her own daughter could feel so close yet be so far out of reach?

Her gaze fell on the newspaper lying open in front of her, Ivan’s face staring back with that intense, piercing expression. Ivan Anderson Suegra. The name, the face—both pulled at her, stirred something inside her that she couldn’t place. But there was something there, a connection she couldn’t deny. It felt too strong to ignore, yet it remained just out of reach, slipping through her grasp like sand.

Who is he to me? she thought, frustration mingling with the grief. She hated the gap in her memory, hated the fog that kept her from understanding who this man was, why he seemed so familiar. And Sis