Chapter 9

M y body bolts upright, and I'm disoriented, surrounded by soft blue walls in an unfamiliar office. Panic grips my chest as a flood of memories rushes back, mingling my past with my present into a chaotic mess. My heart hammers in my chest, and I frantically scan the room, my breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.

Then, I see them—Daniel and Evelyn, the only parents I've ever known. Their worried faces replace the masked figures I had feared moments ago. They're no longer dressed in ominous black, and the ski masks are nowhere in sight.

They look different.

Scared.

Sad.

Evelyn, with her greyish-blonde hair pulled back into a small ponytail, wears jeans and a thick purple sweater. Her aging face is etched with grief and worry, and I quickly avert my gaze, swallowing thickly. My stomach twists when I see Daniel wrap his arms tightly around her. Instead of the black tac-gear he'd hidden behind earlier, he's now dressed in a long-sleeved red shirt and jeans, but his usually warm and comforting presence is absent.

They both look shattered, and the sight is nearly unbearable.

But so is the betrayal that writhes between us, twisting and turning until it's nothing but mangled memories of love and lies.

Turning away from them, my burning eyes land on an elegant, feminine desk adorned with a vase of flowers. Behind it sits a woman, and it hits me then that for the first time in over ten years, I'm seeing her. Really seeing her.

Though it kills me inside, I force myself to look into the eyes of Madeline Vega…my real mom.

She abandoned me.

Dead.

I thought she was dead.

I choke on the words swirling through my brain, forcing them down, down, down until I can finally breathe again. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Evelyn sway as if she wants to come to me, comfort me, but Daniel holds her back, and for that, I'm grateful.

I focus back on Madeline, who bears a striking resemblance to me. One that hits so hard and so deep it makes me gasp again, and my hand instinctively presses against my chest to soften the pain.

She smiles softly, but it lacks the warmth I used to know and love. I swallow hard, my gaze traveling down her figure, partially hidden behind the desk. She's petite, thin, yet strong. She wears a black sleeveless dress, revealing her golden tan skin, her biceps firm and taut as her hands clasp together on the desk.

She doesn't speak, doesn't move, as if she knows I need this moment to reorient myself with her. To come to terms with her sudden presence in my life after so long.

To come to terms with reality.

She's not dead.

I scrutinize her face, and a sense of bittersweet recognition washes over me. Her once-chocolate brown hair, so much like my own, is now threaded with silver, a testament to the years that have passed since our separation. It's neatly pulled up into a tight chignon that makes her look sharp and almost harsh, but it's softened by the pearl studs in her ears and the makeup covering her face.

Her brows, just as thin as they've always been, rest gracefully above her eyes, giving her a dignified look. Her lips, coated in a shade of red lipstick that seems to scream confidence, hold a subtle smile that's missing the warmth I once knew and cherished. The edges of her lips bear the faintest lines, barely there wrinkles that tell the story of the years she's lived and the experiences she's had. It's hard not to feel bitter at the sight of them.

For me, they're a reminder of the life she lived without me.

I thought she was dead.

Her eyes, still vibrant but now softened with the passage of time, are lined with mascara that's slightly smudged, a hint of vulnerability in her carefully crafted appearance.

Madeline's skin, while showing the faintest signs of age, bears a testimony to a life fully lived. There are sunspots, those tiny imperfections scattered like constellations on her face, each a reminder of days spent beneath the sun's warm embrace while I was busy drowning in the darkness.

I grit my teeth and breathe through the pain slowly. My fingers trace the pressure point cuff on my right wrist, and I let it ground me but force out the reminder of who it's from before it can cripple me all over.

The overall impression she gives is one of grace and poise, a woman who's lived a hard but full life. Who's commanded life. I want to hate her for it. Her lips tighten like she's trying to keep her secrets tucked away from me, and it only serves to piss me off.

For a moment, just one moment, I felt happiness to have her back. Joy and vulnerability at being in her presence. But now that anger is slowly taking over, mingling with frustration and devastation, I find myself looking at her differently. Noticing things I hadn't noticed before.

Her lips are similar to mine, though not as thick. Her mouth isn't as wide as mine. Her cheekbones differ slightly, more narrow than my own rounded face, devoid of freckles. Her eyes are bright green, resembling rolling hills, familiar yet distant. They look similar to mine, but not. Mine are blue-green, like seafoam and the sky.

I wonder if my father's eyes were blue, and the thought sends me sharply into a memory.

"Where is my daddy?" I ask, sniffling hard as I curl into Mama's lap.

She sighs and runs her fingers through my hair. "He's gone."

"But–" I start, blinking up at her. She makes a clicking sound and shakes her head.

"Wipe away your tears, my sweet Skye. No more of that. He's gone, but your family is here. We love you. Don't worry about what you don't have. Love what's right in front of you with your whole heart."

My mother's smile flickers as if she senses where my thoughts have gone.

She rises from her chair gracefully, like a queen commanding her subjects. Raising her hand, she gestures to a chair opposite her desk and says coolly, "I think we need to talk."

I bite my cheek, my heart hammering, and barely swallow down the words, no shit, Sherlock.

Daniel takes a hesitant step forward, his eyes locked onto mine with a mixture of concern and uncertainty. "I don't think this is a good—" He starts, his voice filled with a trembling reluctance, but before he can finish, Madeline cuts him off with a hiss of impatience.

"It's time, Daniel," she insists, her voice laced with a raw urgency that sends shivers down my spine.

She inhales deeply, her chest rising and falling with the weight of what's about to transpire. I watch them, my fingers digging into my thighs, feeling the tension build in the room like a gathering storm.

"We cannot keep putting this off," she continues, her tone unwavering, her eyes shimmering with something I can't understand. Daniel's jaw tightens, and his gaze narrows on her before he reluctantly retreats, seeking solace in the comforting presence of Evelyn, his nod barely perceptible.

The room grows thick with unspoken emotions, and I find myself on the verge of dizziness, the weight of what's about to happen threatening to consume me. I swallow hard, my gaze never leaving Madeline, who now looks at me with an expectant intensity.

With a slow and deliberate movement, I rise to my feet, the long black gown that Nyx had lovingly chosen for me cascading to my bare feet. My toes sink into the plush, white rug beneath me as I take unsteady steps toward my mother's desk. Every inch of my body aches, but it's the pain deep within my chest that threatens to shatter me.

This moment, one I've both dreaded and yearned for, is finally here, and the emotions that dredge up are almost unbearable.

But it's the ache for them that keeps me moving.

I release my dress, and my fingers instinctively find their way to the armrests of the chair. As I lower myself into its comforting cushion, a profound emptiness engulfs me, and it's not just the physical sensation of the chair beneath me. It's the gaping hole in my heart, the missing pieces of my soul that will never be restored.

Nyx.

Gage.

Maddox.

Stone.

I bite my lip until I taste blood as his name ghosts through my mind like a whisper.

Hunter.

Each breath I take feels like an effort, each heartbeat a reminder of the void left by years of unanswered questions, confusion, and the relentless devastation of not knowing who I truly am, combined with the loss of my new family—my future.

Madeline's eyes, though worn and aged, fix on me with a depth of emotion I can barely comprehend. She blinks rapidly, as if trying to force away a lifetime of sorrow and secrets. Her presence alone is a storm of emotions, a hurricane I can't escape. She settles into her own chair, her movements graceful yet filled with a heaviness that hangs in the air like a suffocating blanket.

She clears her throat, and I watch as her thin, bony fingers tangle on top of a stack of papers. "Would you like Daniel and Evelyn to stay for this or...?" Her voice trails off, giving me a chance to decide on my own.

I inhale a sharp, trembling breath, feeling the tension grip my chest like a vice. My fists clench the chair's arms, my knuckles turning bone-white as I grapple with an avalanche of feelings I can barely process.

It's so much, nearly too much.

Daniel and Evelyn have been my unwavering constants, the parents who have loved and protected me for as long as I can remember. They've given me a home, a sense of belonging, and the love I've yearned for. They helped me heal after…

I shake away his name.

They've been there for me as much as they could be, as much as I'd allow them to be. But now, in this surreal moment, as I sit in this unfamiliar office, gazing into the eyes of the woman who gave birth to me, I'm engulfed by a wave of doubt.

Can I trust them with the secrets that have been buried for so long when they've clearly been a part of it? For the years they listened to me cry, listened to me beg for just one flicker of my past, all the while knowing exactly who I was.

Were they in on it?

My throat clogs at the thought, but then, something deeper, darker, surges forward.

Did they know about Eric?

My eyes flit to Madeline.

Did she?

The weight of my decision bears down on me, and the room seems to close in, squeezing me in its vise-like grip as I struggle to make any decision at all when I can't even bring myself to speak. My entire body is trembling, my heart fracturing, and I'm trying, trying so hard to keep it all together.

I clench my eyes shut, blocking out the overwhelming rush of memories and emotions. My heart thunders in my chest, a rapid, erratic rhythm echoing my fear. Each breath feels like a struggle, coming in shallow, uneven gasps that betray the turmoil inside me.

In the depths of my mind, I conjure images of Madd's goofy smile, Nyx's unwavering strength, Gage's protective embrace, Hunter's soothing words, and Stone's quiet reassurance. I see them, their faces filled with love and warmth, kissing away my fears, and showering me with a sense of belonging I've longed for my entire life.

But then, the darkness sweeps over me, and I'm transported back to last night in the desolate parking lot, where lifeless bodies littered the ground like discarded trash.

My men.

My life.

My world.

Gone.

My eyes snap open as I inhale a sharp, shuddering breath, my body visibly trembling with fear and heartache. My chest aches with the weight of unanswered questions, my eyes welling up with tears that threaten to spill over.

I slide my eyes to theirs. Instead of Evelyn's tear-stained eyes and wrinkled face, all I see is a black ski mask. Instead of Daniel's thin, tall frame draped in street clothes, I see him decked out in tactical gear while he wields a gun he should know nothing about.

They were there in that fucking parking lot. They saw everything

They broke everything .

I need answers.

"I need them here," I finally manage to say, my voice stronger than I feel.

The pain and fear that course through me are etched into every line of my body, every strained breath, as I cling to the hope that my family holds the key to unlocking the secrets that have tormented me for far too long.

I turn to Madeline and straighten my shoulders. "You're right." I fold my hands over my crossed legs, hoping she can't see how badly I'm shaking. "We do need to talk." Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. "Staring with you telling me where the hell you've been for the last decade, Mother. "