Chapter 14


    -Maya POV-


    The world seemed to tilt on its axis. A million conflicting emotions warred within me: anger,


    resentment, guilt, fear, and an unexpected pang of grief.


    She was more like a trophy wife to Daniel Stone but the fact still remained-she was my mother.


    Natalia ced aforting hand on my arm, her presence grounding me in the midst of the


    emotional maelstrom. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision, but I blinked them back,


    refusing to crumble.


    “Where is she?” I demanded, my voice surprisingly steady.


    He gave me the name of the hospital, and before I could even process the information, I was


    already pushing the call to end. Natalia helped me gather my things, moving with urgency yet


    understanding


    “I’ll watch the kids,” she promised, her voice firm and reassuring. “Go, be with your mother.”


    I didn’t need to be told twice. With a quick hug of gratitude, I rushed out, my mind racing, my heart


    pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs.


    Would I get to say goodbye?


    I mmed through the automatic hospital doors, the sterile scent assaulting my senses as I skidded


    to a stop at the reception desk. My breaths wereing in ragged gasps, adrenaline fueled by the


    phantom echo of my father’s words.


    “Hello,” I choked out, forcing myself to calm down. “My mother was in an ident. She was brought


    here. Victoria Stone. I need to see her.”


    The nurse, a woman with an overly-tight smile and eyes that held no warmth, scanned my frantic


    state. “Room 101,” she uttered, her tone clipped and


    dismissive.


    I didn’t bother registering her attitude. With a mumbled “thank you,” I tore through the hallway.


    Bursting into the ward, the scene that greeted me stopped me in my tracks. There, on a sofa, sat


    my mother, a magazine casually draped across herp, as my father tapped away on his phone, the


    picture of nonchnce.


    “What is going on here?” The words seemed to rip from my throat, raw andced with disbelief.


    “You told me she was in an ident! How? What?”


    My father finally looked up, his eyes devoid of any genuine concern “Amaya,” he drawled, his voice


    t andcking warmth, “you’re here.”


    “What the hell is going on?” I demanded, my voice rising in pitch. My eyes darted between them,


    searching for answers.


    A flicker of apprehension crossed my mother’s face and eyes met for a fleeting moment, and in that


    silent exchange, I saw a sh of apology, a flicker of the mother I remembered before the walls went


    up and the silence settled in


    But before I could read into it further, my father’s voice cut through the tenso silence.


    “Sign this,” he said, thrusting a document in my direction.


    “What?” I blinked, momentarily stunned by the abruptness of his demand.


    “Do you really need me to repeat myself, Amaya?” His voice grew sharper,ced with irritation.


    “Take the document and sign it.”


    Anger surged through me, hot and potent. “Are you seriously kidding me right now? You seriously


    lied! To get me toe here?” I spat, finally piecing together the twisted puzzle.


    Chapter 14


    My hands trembled as i epted the paper, the starkness of the white contrasting the vivid red


    blooming on my skin. Anger simmared, threatening to boll over, but exhaustion weighed me down


    like a nket stilling my rage.


    “Why, Father?” My voice, barely a whisper, echoed in the sterile silence. “Why do you hate me so


    much?”


    The question hung heavy in the air, a loaded usation. I yearned to unleash the oriental


    frustration and hurt that had fostered within me for years, but something held me back. Perhaps it


    was the vulnerability flickering in my mother’s eyes, or the raw pain simmering beneath my father’s


    stoic facade.


    But the silence stretched, suffocating and oppressive.


    “What did I ever do to you?” My voice rose, each sybleced with a tremor of disbelief and


    simmering anger. “Why do you despise me so?”


    My mother’s voice cut through the rising tension, a desperate plea. “Amaya, please, just sign it.”


    But the dam burst. Years of pent-up frustration poured out, fueled by the burning injustice of it all.


    “No!” I roamed, the word echoing off the stark white walls. “Not until you tell me why! Why, Father?


    Is it because of Alex?”


    The name hung in the air, charged with unspoken emotions. My mother’s hand shot out, reaching


    for mine, her eyes begging me to stop. I ignored her, locked in a silent battle with my father.


    “Is it because I chose him over you?” I pressed on, my voice cracking with raw emotion. “Is it


    because he’s the father of my children? Is that why you hate me so much?”


    My father remained silent, but the flicker of movement in his hand sent a jolt of apprehension


    through me. His ws, retracted moments ago, emerged and a single drop of blood dripped down


    his clenched fist.


    “Answer me!” I screamed, my voice echoing with desperation. “What did we ever do to you?”


    My father raised his hand, the steely ws glinting in the stark light. He lunged, ws extended


    striking the wall, “Because they took everything from me,” he thundered, his voice filled with so


    much pain, “Because they took him away from me.”


    SE


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