?Chapter 365:
He blinked, pretending not to understand. “What truth?”
I took a deep breath, trying to steady the storm brewing inside me. “I want to know about my mother.”
Connolly hesitated. “Your… your mother died after giving birth to you,” he stammered, the familiar lie tumbling awkwardly from his lips.
I exhaled slowly, the frustration rising in my chest. “Dad,” I said, my voice tinged with bitterness, “I’ve treated you as my father all these years, even though I’m not your blood. Doesn’t that mean anything? Can’t you tell me the truth out of respect for the bond we once had?”
For a moment, Connolly looked stunned, lost in thought. His eyes grew distant, as if sifting through memories buried underyers of guilt. Finally, he spoke, his voice heavy with reluctance. “Makenna, your mother’s death… it was connected to me, yes. But it was also tied to her own choices.”
His words struck like a sledgehammer to my heart. My mother’s death had never been as simple as I had been told. I opened my mouth to press for more, but before I could, Connolly’s voice came again, lower this time, full of an ominous weight. “Makenna, don’t dig any deeper. If you do, you’ll be walking straight into your ruin.”
Connolly’s words sent an icy shiver down my spine, the kind that crept slowly and lingered, refusing to fade.
Why couldn’t I keep digging into this? I couldn’t wrap my mind around it, and an urgent need gnawed at me, desperate for answers. “What really happened?” I pressed, hoping he’d finally let something slip.
But Connolly closed his eyes and shook his head, as if to shut out the world. No matter how many questions I threw at him, he remained tight-lipped.
“Makenna, I don’t know the answers you’re looking for.” His voice grew quieter, trailing off like a candle flickering out in a cold wind. “Everything I did back then was just to protect myself.”
Anxiety wed at me, my thoughts racing like trapped birds searching for an escape. The truth was right there, close enough to touch, yet always slipping just beyond my grasp.
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Then, the moment of exile arrived. Soldiers stepped in, cutting off my questions and ushering Connolly, Irene, and Jessica away with no room for protest.
Jessica and Irene were shoved into the van, their venomous curses fading into the background, a blurred hum of hatred that barely registered in my ears.
Connolly’s final words echoed relentlessly in my mind, refusing to give me peace.
Alice, always the gentle presence, lightly touched my arm, her voice soft with concern. “Makenna, are you alright?”
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I bit down on my lip, forcing a fragile smile, but inside, fear and helplessness churned like a rising storm.
Just as I felt despair creeping closer, ready to consume me, a firm handnded on my shoulder from behind.
I turned, only to see Bryan, his face handsome and defiant, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes.
Makenna’s POV:
“Your Highness…” I greeted him, still dazed and lost in thought. Bryan immediately noticed my absent expression, his sharp eyes narrowing with concern as he frowned.
“What’s going on? Why do you look so awful? Are you feeling unwell?” His voice carried a tone of urgency, and I could sense his worry cutting through my fog.
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