Page 170 of Broken Destiny

Why did my mother still have a folder on her? Was she investigating her again?

I squinted at the folder, memories rushing back.

It was the same one she had flung onto my desk years ago when she first tried to convince me Jiya wasn't who I thought she was.

I remembered how thin it had been back then—barely anything inside.

Only two sheets of paper.

Now it was thicker and heavier.

I opened it.

A USB drive lay inside, along with a stack of pictures and papers.

I pulled them out, my hands trembling.

Duplicate sets of pictures of Caroline and me stared back at me. The letter from the photograph was there. A medical record from the hospital. More notes. More documents.

My heart hammered violently against my ribs, each beat louder than the last.

I needed to examine this thoroughly.

Then I heard it?—

The click-clack of heels echoed down the hall.

My mother.

Panic shot through me like electricity.

I quickly shoved the folder into the back of my pants, behind my shirt, my hands moving on instinct. I locked the drawer and stuck the key back under the lamp.

Straightening her desk within seconds, I wiped the sweat from mybrow with the back of my hand and pretended to search through the papers just as the door opened.

“Found it!” I exclaimed, even though my heart felt like it was about to burst out of my chest.

My mother stood in the doorway.

“What were you looking for on your wedding day?” A slow smile appeared on her face.

My hand shook slightly, and I quickly rested it on my hip, hoping she wouldn’t notice.

“Tatiana messaged me saying my copy of the wedding schedule was in your office,” I said, trying to remain calm, my brain working at a million miles per hour. “I just came to pick that up.”

I walked toward her, forcing my steps to stay steady.

“Hmm...” My mother said. “The videographers and photographers should be here soon. Make sure you get something to eat and drink before then. You might not get a chance later.” She leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “I’ll walk with you to the dining room.”

“All right,” I replied.

I walked beside her, praying the folder and its contents wouldn’t slip out from behind my back, praying she wouldn’t notice the tension in my shoulders or the sweat still clinging to my skin.

I needed to get to my room quickly.

I needed to know what the hell was going on.

We passed the stairs and were heading to the dining room when I stopped abruptly.