<b>Chapter </b><b>106 </b>
Elena’s POV
“So you don’t n on taking anypensation from him for it! Mom asked, her voiceced with a mist
across the table.
leoneem and disbelief as the booked at
Throwned.
“Of course not,” Treplied, my lone firm, brooking no argument. The thought of asking Nok for money for this child fore inherently wrong. “Hedht choose to have it, I did. This is my decisions, and I’m keeping it.” The conviction in my vice surprised even myself
She shook her head <b>slowly</b>, a weary sigh escaping her lips as she rubbed her temples, her gave feed on the worn tablecloth
“No, Elena I can let you do that. Her voice, though sofer now, held a resolute <b>quality </b>that is highly responsible, darling, Utterly andpletely irresponsible.”
i shiver of unease down my spine. “What you’re doing
“You’re going to live alone is a separate city, trying to juggle <b>a </b>demanding internship while pregnant. Your next steps aren’t even remotely derided Who’s to say if you’ll get a job so soon after delivery, especially with a newborn, and what if there areplications with the pregnancy or the birth? Either your tell Niki about this…or I <b>won’t </b>allow you to go to Maxbester.” She finished speaking, her eyes locked on mine, and with every word, my heart seemed to plummet further, a lead weight sinking in my chest.
What was she even saying<b>? </b>
“Mom.. you–you can’t do that,” I said slowly, each word feeling foreign and clumsy on my tongue. Unsure how to even begin to process what she was suggesting the unfamiliar territory of herying down such a stark ultimatum.
This hadn’t ever happened before. Mom was always supportive, always guiding but never dictating my choices with such force. Even when she strongly advised against something, it was always phrased <b>as </b>a suggestion, a gentle nudge. Most of the time, I agreed with her wisdom, but this?
“I <b>am </b>your mother, Elena. I love you, and I only want what’s best for you, <b>darling</b><b>” </b>she said, her voice softening slightly, a hint of pleading entering her tone. I looked at her, dumbfounded, the familiar contours of her face suddenly seeming distant<b>, </b>unfamiliar. <b>Was </b>this really happening!
My stomach <b>was </b>churning, the half digested soup feeling like a leader mass. Anxiety pulsed in my veins, a frantic, erratic rhythm. I took i trying to quell the <b>rising </b>panic, but it did nothing to soothe the frantic fluttering in my chest. I kept inhaling, willing the tightness to ease, but their fat
thin, insufficient
My <b>vision </b>swam slightly, the edges of the room blurring. A wave of dizziness <b>washed </b>over me, <b>and </b>I gripped the edge of the table, my knuckles turning
white
A sharp pain constricted my chest, making it difficult to <b>breathe</b>. Helt tiny pinpricks behind my eyes, and I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my blurring vision I watched as Mom’s face fell, her expression shifting from concern to rm as she pushed back her chair and stood up abruptly. “Elena,” she said, her voiceced with worry, reaching out a hand towards me.
I shook my head, pushing her hand back gently with a weak gesture. “Mom…you can’t do that,” I repeated, the words barely <b>a </b>whisper, my voice thick with unched tears. At this point, I couldn’t clearly <b>see </b>her expression. The room seemed to tilt, the familiar space suddenly feeling hostile
I heard her <b>take </b><b>a </b><b>sharp </b>inhale, a sound that conveyed her own distress, and I repeated, my voice cracking, “Don’t tell Niko-“She cut me off <b>this </b><b>time</b>, <b>her </b>voice trembling slightly.
“Alright. Alright, I won’t tell Niki,” she relented, harvoice cracking with a raw emotion that mirrored my own his calm down, Elena. Please.” Lelta <b>wave </b>of guilt wash over me.
I didn’t know what I was doing, pushing her like this, et terrible for causing her such distress. She was only looking out for me, her protective instincts kicking in. But she didn’t understand the situation the way I did.
She thought our marriage <b>was </b><b>real</b>, built <b>on </b><b>love </b><b>and </bmitment.
I knew it wasn’t. It was a <b>contract</b>, <b>a </b><b>transaction </b>born out of desperation and necessity. Nothing more.
12:33 Tue, 29 Jul
I wiped at my eyes with the back of my hand, the tears Inning a damp bail on my skin. The emotional exhaustion was overwhelming, Meying raw and vulnerable.
I picked up the hall eaten bowl of soup. “Tin full,” I mumbled, my appetitepletely gone. “Juil leave the dishes once you’re done. I’ll wash them when Ie downstairster.” My voice wits soft, harely audible, couldn’t bear in sit there any longer.
Without waiting for a response, I pushed back my chair and left the room, my ings feeling heavy and unst
Tunsteadyas? made my way opt a
A week passed in a blur aber that, the days driting by in a hary, sluggishthyflm. I remained mostly in my mom, the space now feeling like a cage. Thei initial surge of energy after receiving the internship offer hadpletely dissipated, reced by a bone–deep weariness
I spent most of the days just catching up on the sleep hadn’t been able to get before, the exhaustion of the past weeks finally catching up to me
But now, I sat propped up against the pillows on my bed, myptop resting precariously on myp
“Damn it. Thisptop is absoktely useless,” | ured under my breath, frustration bubbling up as I clicked the up arrow key repeatedly, only for it to remain stubbornly stuck. The stic felt brittle beneath my fingertip.
Well, I had been using it for over six years now
With a sigh, Lended up pulling the damn broken key outpletely, fiddling with the tiny <b>stic </b>mechanism until managed to fix the issue before carefully inserting it back into ce. A so click confirmed it was working, and I blew out <b>a </b>breath of relief, staring at the email disyed on the scr
Please confirm your eptance of this offer by replying to this email by Wednesday, June 4, 2035. Upon your confirmation, we information regarding onboarding and necessary paperwork.
A quick nce at the calendar on my phone screen confirmed it was already June 1st. I had a mere three more days to reply
end you further.
Mom <b>had </b>been distant these past few <b>days</b>. Well, distant would be an understatement. She was clearly upset. Even more upset than was, I suspected. Except for Sunday, when she’d stayed in her room all day<b>, </b>she’d spent every day from morning <b>until </b><b>evening </b>outside for her job. She always came home having already eaten dinner<b>, </b>a deliberate choice, I knew, to avoid prolonged interactions with me.
She’d offer a briel, strained “goodnight” before retreating to her room, and i’d quietly store the tetover <b>food </b>in the refrigerator for the next day
I wanted to console her, to bridge the gap that had formed between us. I wanted to tell her I’d do whatever she told me to, that her peace of mind was more important than any internship.
But knew, deep down, that this time was different. This time, I couldn’t bring myself <b>to </b>choose either of her conditions. I couldn’tball Niki, not yet, not with so much uncertainty surrounding everything. And I couldn’t, wouldn’t, let this <b>incredible </b>opportunity slip through my fingers. The internship falt
ke alfeine, a chance at a future desperately needed to secure.
So why was stalling, kitting the precious days tick by? What did I need to finally push me to take that chance to click that ‘reply‘ button andmit to a puth that folt both exhrating and terrifying?
le with the number “T bride it I swallowed, <b>a </b>pang of I looked down at my phone, Melle’s message notification had popped up again, <b>a </b>small red bubble guilt twisting in my stomach. I hadn’t read her previous two massages, my mind consumed by my own turmoil.
“Hi, the first message mea
“How are you? followed. That one was fiheen minutes ago.
Thetest one read, “Sorry to disture, I know you’re probably busy…I <b>was </b>just wondering. Have you been to Mester City before?
1jolted upright in bed.
Thadn’t mentioned to Mielle that my internship was in Maxcester How on earth did she find out? No, wait, don’t jump to conclusions, my rational side cautioned. This could be aplete coincidence.
“No<b>…</b>why do you ask?” I replied on text, my fingers flying across the screens, a knot of unease tightening in my stomach
DOM
She typed for a moment, your time!
frowned, my eyes nationed
three little dots on the screen appearing and disappearing, then her reply came thing Never mind then. Thank you for
What was up with that sudden, strange question followed by an equally abrupt dismissal! Why would slie randomly ask me if I’d been to Maxter City for no apparent reason! It fell..odd.
Then, just as <b>I </b>was trying to piece together Mielle’s peculiar message, there was the distinct sound of a doorbell ringing from downstairs
Ifrowned, a wave of confusion washing over the
Mam shouldn’t be home this early, should she? Her shift at edier usually kept her out untilte evening
A quick nce at the digital clock on my bedside table confirmed it was only five in the afternoon. There should be half an hour more until she ames
I got up slowly, a sense of unease settling over me, and made my way towards the door. My steps slowed as I reached thending a price of something akin to fear raising the hairs on the back of my neck. Who would evene calling at this hour? It wasn’t like we had many visitors. No one, really.
My mind shed with uncertain thoughts, unwee images of Priya and the chilling news reports about the murders. I swallowed hard, trying to spel the rising acty.
The bell rang again, the sound sharper this time, jolting <b>me</b>.
Damn it.
A