Page 85 of Broken Destiny

I remembered how quickly sympathy had disappeared the night she mentioned my nieces. One second, I had been listening to her, and the next, heat had surged through me so fast it had felt impossible to control.

It was easy for her to say she had never meant to put the girls in danger, but at the end of the day, she had joined hands with Jeremy to extort money from them. She had then taken the same money and created her little empire… or had that happened after she met her rich husband?

The thought should have satisfied the version of events I had believed for years.

Instead, my mind kept returning to her face that night.

The shock in her eyes had not looked forced. Neither had the panic in her voice when I told her about the girls needing therapy.

She had looked genuinely horrified.

My fingers curled tighter around the steering wheel.

Why?

If she had known everything Jeremy planned, why had she reacted like that?

The memory of her trembling hands and uneven breathing replayed itself in my head.

I had been shot because of her.

That fact had been burned into my memory.

But watching her apologize that night had stirred another question I could not shake.

Had she been hurt too?

Most of my memories from that time still felt fractured and incomplete. I remembered flashes of pain, the hospital, voices around me, and then waking up to learn she had already been discharged. I had gone straight to her apartment afterward, desperate for answers, only to find the place empty.

She had vanished from my life within days.

Then there was the letter.

Just thinking about it made my pulse jump harder against my throat.

That letter had been the foundation beneath every ounce of anger I had carried for years, yet her reaction that night had not matched the woman I had convinced myself she was.

I remembered sitting back down on the couch and forcing myself to calm down because rage was getting me nowhere. Losing control would only drive her further away and bury the truth deeper.

So I had forced myself to stay calm and listen.

I had watched her carefully, hoping she might reveal something new.

I had waited, but she didn’t say anything further.

Even now, driving toward her house again, my mind kept circling the same thought.

She had sworn on her children.

No mother would do that.

No mother would risk something so sacred unless she was telling the truth.

Would she?

The familiar road came into view, and I loosened one hand from the steering wheel long enough to rub at the tension gathering along my jaw.

I still had not told my parents or siblings that I was working with Jiya again. I knew that conversation was inevitable, but for now, I wanted to keep this separate from the rest of my life, without inviting complications.