Chapter 27

I waituntil I receive all my grades before I sit down to dissect my new family drama. This time I don't call Tori though. It's all on me. I know the pros, the cons, and also what my brother and sister think. Cedric and I already discussed it, but Izzy . . . Well, she never told me she spoke to Mom. Somehow the conversation we had weeks ago feels false, a lie that I need her to explain.

The last thing I want is to resent her and to lose the relationship we have now.

Mom . . . well, I still haven't decided what to do about my mother yet, but the most pressing thing is to confront Isadora. Why is she keeping things from me?

"Everything okay?" she answers immediately.

"Not sure yet," I reply, sinking into my bed. All the emotions that I've kept bottled up now rush to the surface. Anger, betrayal, and sadness whirl within me.

How could Izzy, my sister who swore to always have my back, advise me against speaking to our mother while secretly talking to her herself?

What else is she keeping from me?

How could she do this to me? After all these years of being kept in the dark about our mother's whereabouts, I finally have a chance to know the truth, and Izzy wants to take that away from me.

"What's going on?" she asks.

"You spoke to her. To our mother. You lied to me," I accuse, my voice quivering.

On the other end, Izzy exhales sharply. After a couple of seconds she clears her throat and says, "Technically, I didn't lie, Ameline. I omitted some information because I didn't want to upset you, but if you must know, yeah, she called me first." She pauses, and I picture her biting her lip with worry. "Dad found out and he was absolutely livid with me. I was able to persuade him that it was an innocent call, that we barely spoke, and it wouldn't happen again. I just . . ." Her voice trails and I wish she would finish that thought, but she doesn't.

I close my eyes, trying to calm down. I know how strict our father can be, and I don't want Izzy to get in trouble because of me. But at the same time, I can't understand why she wouldn't tell me about her conversation with our mother.

"I'm sorry for hiding it from you, but I truly think it's best if we forget about her," Izzy says. There's an edge of desperation in her tone. "Dad made it clear he doesn't want us to have any contact with Mom, and it's better for everyone if we just let this go."

I grit my teeth as tears sting my eyes. "Let it go? How can you expect me to just forget this? I only had a mom for six years and I barely remember her. I want to know why she abandoned us the way she did. I deserve at least that much." My voice cracks.

Izzy sighs heavily into the phone. "Believe me, I understand you. But it's not that simple, Ameline. Please, for your own good, just drop it."

Her caginess makes me certain—she knows more than she's admitting. I want to insist, to demand that she tells me everything. But I can already sense her shutting down.

"Fine, but I'm not at all happy with you right now," I say bitterly.

"I'm only trying to protect you. Please, try to move on," she pleads before we curtly say goodbye.

I hang up, feeling simultaneously defeated and more determined to figure out what happened back then and why this is affecting us now.

Honestly, I don't understand why they think I'll let this go so easily. I finally have a chance to learn the truth. I can't simply shove it aside and pretend it doesn't matter. But there's that small voice nagging me in the back of my mind. Is it really worth provoking an all-out war with Dad?

It terrifies me, but I can't live in fear. When this is over we'll have to compromise, figure out how to mend our relationship for going against his wishes. If he stops paying tuition I'll get grants and loans. I can work extra shifts, get a roommate . . . those things are fixable. I don't know why I've been afraid of losing his financial support. It's probably the way Cedric and Izzy have handled those threats.

Me, I can live without that, but not his affection. That would really break me.

I pace the room. There has to be some way I can find answers without losing the love of my father. If only the path forward didn't feel so impossible to discern right now.

I pick up my phone again, hesitating only a moment before dialing Gabe's number. He answers almost immediately. "This is a miracle. You're calling me for a change." He pauses and then his voice comes out a bit loud. "Are you okay?"

I let out a shaky breath, feeling the tears finally falling down my cheeks. "No. I've been . . . That call with my mother really messed me up," I confess.

"What can I do for you?" he asks. "Do you want me to head to your place?"

"No," I lie, because honestly all I want is for him to come over, hug me and make me forget everything. But the last thing I should do is to drag Gabe Decker into my family drama. "Maybe just let me talk this out, you know, vent."

"Of course, I'm all ears," Gabe says. I hear some shuffling on his end as he settles in.

I take a deep breath, rubbing my aching temples. "Izzy talked to Mom without telling me. And I'm pretty sure she's hiding something. Dad came to threaten me. If I talk to Mom I'll lose everything—including his support. I can't take this anymore . . . I need to know the truth, but losing Dad is not an option."

"I understand this is important to you. But is satisfying that curiosity worth the blowup it might cause with your dad?" Gabe's tone is soft and calming.

I sigh, feeling almost defeated. As I do, a sharp pain stabs at my temples, the headache transforming into a blinding migraine. I struggle to focus, fighting against the pain and the disorienting blur that threatens to overwhelm my vision. I take a few calming breaths before I speak, "I just . . . I feel like I need to know. It's like a missing piece in my life."

"I know," Gabe says gently. "But I don't want you to get hurt by chasing answers."

"Let me think how to proceed. But if I do decide to meet her . . ." I trail off meaningfully.

"I'll be there with you, Ame," he promises.

I manage to thank him, and as I'm about to end the call, agony spears through my skull without warning. Crying out, I clutch my head in my hands as my vision starts to blur, knees buckling. I can feel my body growing heavier like I'm wading through water.

Lately, these headaches have become more frequent and more intense. I've brushed them off as stress-related, but this is different and more severe. My vision narrows to a dark tunnel.

And then, everything fades to black. The world slips away, leaving me in a void where pain and consciousness blur into nothingness.