Chapter 4
I woke to the scent of lavender and the feel of silk sheets brushing against my skin–luxurious, comforting, and utterly foreign.
This wasn’t a hospital. It wasn’t sterile or cold. The room around me was grand–vaulted ceilings adorned with intricate molding, a crystal chandelier casting golden reflections across the polished floor. Tall windows allowed sunlight to spill in, revealing a sprawling garden beyond–s meticulously kept, it looked more like a painting than something real.
As I tried to sit up, a dull ache rippled through my limbs. Then, the memories surged back with cruel clarity.
The party.
Suzanne.
The shove.
The water.
Bryan.
He had stood there. Watched. Walked away as I drowned.
The pain wasn’t just physical anymore–it wrapped around my heart like barbed wire.
The door creaked open.
A woman entered. Tall. Composed. Dressed in a tailored white suit that radiated wealth and authority. Her silver–streaked hair was styled in an elegant twist, and her heels clicked softly against the floor. But it was her face that made my breath hitch.
There was something hauntingly familiar in her features–her eyes, especially. Sharp. Piercing. Intelligent.
Then she did something I never expected.
She rushed forward and wrapped her arms around me.
“My daughter,” she whispered, voice trembling with emotion. “I’ve finally found you.”
I froze in her embrace, too stunned to react. “I–I don’t understand.”
She pulled back, holding my face between her hands, her gaze studying me like I might vanish if she blinked.
“We’ve been searching for you for so long,” she said softly, tears brimming in her eyes. My mind reeled. The old woman from the hospital. The DNA test. Could this really be-
“I’m Lynn Lindsey,” she said gently. “Your mother.”
The words crashed into me like a tidal wave.
“No,” I breathed. “That can’t be…”
“It is,” she said firmly, her voice steady now. “The woman who took your hair–her name is Helen. She’s been with our family for decades. She recognized the mark behind your ear and insisted we test the possibility. We did the DNA match.”
She exhaled, her voice tightening with controlled fury. “It was you. It’s always been you.”
3/3 6.4%
3:56 pm D
I shook my head slowly, overwhelmed. “But… how? Why?”
Lynn sat on the edge of the bed, her hand resting on mine. “There was an accident. A separation. We were too late before. But now, you’re home. And I swear–those who wronged you, those who hurt you- they will pay.”
Bryan. Suzanne.
Their names echoed in my mind like curses. I could still feel the weight of the water, still see Bryan’s cold expression as he turned away.
Lynn wasn’t just wealthy. She radiated influence, power. The kind of woman who didn’t beg–she commanded.
Tears filled my eyes, but I blinked them away. No. I needed clarity, not emotion. Still… the warmth of her touch, the certainty in her voice–it chipped away at the loneliness that had buried itself in my bones.
This wasn’t just a rescue.
It was justice.
It was the beginning of something new.
I finally relaxed after what felt like an eternity. I wasn’t alone anymore. I had a real family. Not a husband who lied. Not a woman who smiled while stabbing me in the back. A mother. A name. A legacy.
A future.
A soft buzz drew my attention to the nightstand.
My phone.
The screen lit up with messages–dozens, all from Bryan.
Where are you?
Why aren’t you answering?
Are you okay, sweetheart?
The hospital said you were discharged.
I let out a bitter laugh. The nerve. Sweetheart, as if I hadn’t seen him with her. As if he hadn’t watched me drown and done nothing.
No, worse–that had been the plan.
He wanted me gone. Out of the way. Forgotten.
But he had underestimated me.
I turned toward the silent staff member standing respectfully by the door. “Deliver the divorce papers to him. Immediately.”
She stepped forward, handing me a sealed envelope. I opened it briefly to review the contents one last time. The legal documents were pristine. My signature sat at the bottom in bold ink, beside another sheet–a medical report. Proof. Evidence.
Confirmation that I had regained my hearing two weeks ago.
I folded the documents and sealed the envelope again.
Chapter 4
2/3 7.8%
3:56 pm
Let him read it. Let him remember every vile word he spoke while assuming I couldn’t understand a thing. Let him burn with the knowledge that I had heard it all.
An hour passed in peaceful silence before my phone buzzed again.
A live stream notification.
It was from a luxury brand I usually ignored–but hushed voices from the hallway made me
pause.
“He just received the envelope,” someone whispered outside the door. “And he read the report.”
Curious, I tapped on the video.
There they were.
Bryan and Suzanne. Standing at the center of a glamorous event, cameras flashing, journalists swarming. Both were dressed to impress–he in a designer tuxedo, she in a gold gown that shimmered beneath the lights.
For a moment, they smiled and posed as if nothing could touch them.
Then a staff member leaned in and whispered something to Bryan.
I turned up the volume.
“What?” Bryan’s face shifted instantly. The smile vanished. “She filed for divorce?”
The words were low, but seething.
“How dare she?”
Suzanne’s smile faltered slightly, her eyes flicking to him with worry. Another whisper came–this time from someone behind the scenes.
Bryan’s entire body went rigid.
“There’s also a medical report,” the man said carefully. “It confirms she regained her hearing… two weeks ago.”
The realization struck him like a punch. His jaw clenched, his hands curled into fists, and the color drained from his face.
He knew.
He finally understood that I had heard everything.
The whispered confessions. The deception. The truth about Suzanne. The betrayal.
Then came one final whisper. Quiet. Almost lost in the noise.
“She found out about the accident too. That it wasn’t random. That Miss Suzanne caused it.”
A camera flashed just in time to capture Bryan’s stunned expression.
I smiled.
Let him search. Let him scream. Let him crawl. It was far too late.
This time, I was the one walking away.
And I wasn’t coming back alone.
3:57 pm DOE
My phone wouldn’t stop ringing.
