Alena drove into her compound and parked her car. Then, she stepped out, followed closely by Alicia, who looked around curiously.

“Where are we?” Alicia asked, her gaze drifting up to Alena’s glasshouse.

A fleeting bitter smile crossed Alena’s face, quickly replaced by a sweet one. How divided we are, she mused silently.

“My house,” Alena replied, her smile widening as she noticed Alicia’s wide eyes. “What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful,” Alicia commented, then asked Alena questioningly. “But why am I here so late at night?”

“Come with me,” Alena said, walking toward the house. Alicia frowned, hesitated briefly, then followed.

As Alicia entered the sitting room, she froze at the sight of Jason. Why is he here? Her mind raced to Jeff. They were inseparable; where one was, the other wasn’t far behind.

Is Jeff here too? Alicia’s heart pounded as she scanned the room. She pressed her lips together, trying to steady her breathing. What is Alena planning? Have they brought me here to flaunt their relationship? Her muscles tensed as she fought to maintain her composure.

Approaching Jason, she scoffed, “Surprised to see you here. What are you doing in Alena’s house? And where’s Jeff? Doesn’t he know I’m alive?”

“I’m sorry, Alicia,” Jason stood, rubbing the back of his neck. Seeing her alive stirred conflicting emotions—relief, but also sadness he couldn’t articulate.

“Jeff will be here soon,” he added quietly. “He must be sorry too.”

“Do you really think I care about his apology?” her voice was sharp, her composure brittle, betraying the fragile ache she fought to suppress.

“How could he be so heartless, not even bothering to check on me in the hospital? He should’ve been the first face I saw.” She shook her head, her heart pounding with the sting of her own disappointment.

As Jason opened his mouth to respond, Alicia cut him off. She appeared furious, but deep down, her anger was directed at herself—for her heart racing over something so trivial. How could I still care?

“Spare me the excuses, Jason,” she snapped, her voice sharp. Turning to Alena, her fury simmered beneath the surface, tangled with the fear of revealing too much—of shattering the fragile illusion that she’d lost her last memory.

“Why am I here?” she asked slowly.

Sensing the tension thickening in the room, Alena shot a quick, almost desperate nod at Jason, silently urging him to speak before Alicia’s resolve wavered and she decided to leave.

“We’re sorry to trouble you, Alicia. I hadn’t planned to come, but Alena invited me,” Jason began. “There’s something you need to see.” He pulled out a brown envelope and gestured for Alicia to sit.

She complied reluctantly, eyes narrowing as Jason spread out several photographs and documents. What is this? She glanced at Alena, noting the forced smile plastered on her face—a mask for something deeper.

Jason handed her the photos. Tentatively, Alicia examined them, a weight pressing against her chest. Each beat a drum of growing unease. Lines furrowed her forehead as she flipped through them.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The first few showed three young girls with a woman at the beach. One girl appeared around ten, another about five, and the youngest perhaps three, nestled in the woman’s arms. The woman had short black hair--a mirror image of Alena, down to the identical mole. The eldest girl bore a strong resemblance to Alena.

Alicia glanced between the photos and Alena, her confusion deepening. “Are these your photos?” she muttered, more to herself than to anyone else.

As she reached the next set, her frown deepened. There was a younger Rose with two teenage boys, one unmistakably Wilson. The second boy… Alicia squinted, trying to recall the familiar face.

“That’s Oliver,” Alena supplied quietly.

Alicia blinked, her confusion mounting. Before she could speak, Jason added, “This is Rose’s identity document.”

Alicia picked it up hesitantly. The first page displayed Rose’s passport, listing her birthplace, her first husband, and sons—Wilson and Oliver—with their photos. The document chronicled Rose’s transition from Mr White’s secretary to his wife after Betty White’s death. There was even a photo of Betty—the same woman from the beach pictures.

Shocked, Alicia flung the document onto the table as if it burned her. Her eyes darted between Jason and Alena. “These are fake, right?” She forced a scoff. “Do you think I’ll believe this nonsense?”

“I didn’t believe it at first either,” Alena confessed, her voice firm with desperation. “But Rose caused the rift between us. I’m the eldest girl in those photos. I had memories of our mother, but lost them after her death… from shock.” she pressed on,

“Rose made Alison and I believe you were our father’s favorite and that he hated us. She used Berliny as the prize we had to fight for because she claimed our father wanted you to have it. Wilson worked for Rose and me; he was behind Alison’s blackmail as well.”

Alena stepped closer, but Alicia shot to her feet. The walls seemed to close in on her, shadows dancing with her spiraling thoughts. The room grew colder, or was it just her trembling?

“Trust me, Alicia. Rose is after our father’s properties. She wants us dead and Alison in jail.” Alena’s eyes brimmed with tears, desperation etched into her trembling voice, as she met Alicia’s betraying gaze.

Don’t trust Alena, Rose’s warning echoed in Alicia’s mind, making her uneasy. Rose had provided proof of Alena’s schemes through recordings. Now another truth unraveled, painting Rose as both betrayer and stepmother.

Alicia gasped, her head spinning and she gripped it with both hands. “What are you trying to do?” she rasped, her tear-filled eyes locking onto Jason. “And you, Jason…”

Jason parted his lips to speak but felt choked, his words trapped in his throat. He ran his fingers through his hair, searching for composure.

“Don’t you believe me with all this evidence?” Alena stammered.

“If I doubt you, why should I trust Jason?” Alicia snapped.

You’re looking beautiful, girl,” Rose’s words echoed again.

“Coming from a party?”

Wilson? Alison had scoffed. “Don’t tell me you’re talking about that jerk, Wilson?”

Who is he? Rose had asked innocently.

Alicia’s body trembled, her lips quivering. She stepped back, feeling lost, as if standing at a crossroads with no clear path.

“Alicia…” Alena reached out, but Alicia recoiled, her body tensing as if touched by flame. She stepped back—once, twice—each movement a silent protest. The room seemed to contract, its walls pressing in, the air thinning with every breath. Panic surged, sharp and suffocating, and she spun around like prey sensing the closing jaws of a predator.

No! The word wasn’t just a scream—it was an unraveling, a plea stitched into the fabric of her breaking heart. She spun around, desperate to escape… only to collide with a wall of warmth, a familiar scent that sliced through the fog of betrayal. Her breath hitched, heart stuttering in her chest. A familiar scent enveloped her, sharp and unmistakable, piercing through the chaos like an anchor. Compelled by something beyond reason, she lifted her gaze.

Their eyes met—familiar, grounding, and devastating. Tears welled up, spilling freely down her cheeks. Without thinking, without hesitation, she threw herself into his arms, as if instinct alone guided her. It felt like coming home, like finding the one person she could still trust, the one constant in a world unrThaveling. The arms that had always been there, even when words and promises had failed.

Jeff stiffened, his skin prickling like needles dancing over raw nerves. His heart thundered, not just from shock—but from the ache of everything left unsaid.