Chapter 134

The morning sun cast golden streaks across the hardwood floors as Sophia stirred awake.

Her phone buzzed insistently on the nightstand.

She reached for it, blinking against the harsh light of the screen.

A message from Daniel.

Her breath hitched.

"We need to talk. Today."

The words were simple, but the weight behind them made her stomach twist.

She sat up, running a hand through her tangled hair.

Last night’s argument with Ethan still echoed in her mind.

His cold dismissal.

The way he had looked at her—like she was nothing.

A sharp knock at the door startled her.

"Sophia?" Isabella’s voice was muffled through the wood.

"Come in."

The door creaked open, revealing her sister’s worried face.

"You look like hell," Isabella said bluntly, stepping inside.

Sophia scoffed. "Thanks."

Isabella perched on the edge of the bed. "Ethan called me."

Sophia’s fingers tightened around the sheets.

Of course he had.

"He’s worried about Liam," Isabella continued carefully.

Sophia’s chest ached at the mention of her son.

Liam had been distant lately.

Withdrawn.

Just like his father.

"I’ll handle it," Sophia said, though she wasn’t sure how.

Isabella sighed. "You can’t keep doing this alone."

Sophia didn’t answer.

She couldn’t.

Because the truth was, she was alone.

Ethan had made sure of that.

Her phone buzzed again.

Another message from Daniel.

"Meet me at the café. Noon."

Sophia exhaled slowly.

She had a decision to make.

And whatever she chose, someone was going to get hurt.

The folded paper lay on my kitchen table, taunting me.

I'd been home for nearly an hour, pacing, debating—should I read it or burn it?

My fingers twitched.

The envelope had weighed heavy in my purse the entire drive back. Now, it sat there, silent yet screaming.

Part of me was morbidly curious. The other part—the smarter part—knew better. The man who wrote this despised me. What good could possibly come from his final words?

I snatched it up, ready to rip it to shreds—

Just read it. What's the worst that could happen?

My own traitorous thoughts made me freeze.

Famous last words.

The worst? He could destroy me all over again.

Words were weapons. Sharper than knives. Deeper than bullets. I still carried the scars from every cruel thing my so-called parents had ever said.

OPEN IT!

Before I could chicken out, I unfolded the letter with trembling hands.

Dear Sophia,

If you're reading this, I didn't survive the surgery. Truthfully, I don't expect to. The doctors are wasting their time. I can feel it—the darkness pulling me under. Your grandparents are waiting. And hell? Hell has a special spot reserved for me after what I did to you.

You were such a bright little thing when Margaret left you with us. We extinguished that light. Broke you. And I'll spend eternity regretting it, my sweet girl.

I remember when she was still alive. You and Isabella playing in the garden. Your laughter could light up the whole house. Coming home to you, Nathan, and Isabella—those were my happiest moments.

I stopped reading, breath catching.

None of this made sense. If he'd loved me then—what changed?

Hands shaking, I forced myself to continue.

I don't know when I became a monster. After Margaret died, after we took you in—something inside me snapped. Inside all of us.

This isn't an excuse. Nothing could ever excuse what we did. It was vile. Unforgivable.

This illness? It's my punishment. Karma's a vicious bitch. I'm getting exactly what I deserve.

Before I go, I need you to know—I'm sorry. For all of it. These words will never be enough, but they're all I have left. I'm sorry for being cruel. Sorry for failing you. Sorry for being the villain in your story.

I won't ask for forgiveness. I don't deserve it. Just... take care of your mother. When she realizes what she's done, it will destroy her.

Know that I loved you. Even if I had a hell of a way of showing it.

Goodbye, my darling girl.

I crumpled the letter, shoving it back into my bag with too much force.

Why did this affect me so deeply when Victoria's tears hadn't? Maybe because these were his last words. Written while dying.

I stood so fast my chair toppled over.

Bedroom. Now.

I needed silence. Needed to shut down before the memories drowned me.

Because if I let them in?

I wouldn't survive the flood.