Chapter 162

The hospital corridor stretched endlessly before Sophia, each step heavier than the last.

Her hands trembled as she clutched the edge of her coat, the sterile scent of antiseptic burning her nostrils.

Liam’s small voice echoed in her mind—"Mom, when are you coming home?"—but home felt like a distant dream now.

Ethan Blackwood stood rigid by the window, his silhouette sharp against the pale morning light.

She could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers curled into fists at his sides.

"Tell me again," he demanded, voice low and dangerous.

Sophia swallowed hard. "I didn’t know. I swear—"

"Didn’t know?" His laugh was bitter. "Or didn’t care?"

The accusation stung, but she refused to flinch.

Her phone buzzed—Daniel. Again.

She silenced it without looking.

Ethan turned, his gaze piercing. "You expect me to believe this was all just a coincidence?"

Sophia exhaled sharply. "I didn’t plan any of this."

"Yet here we are." His jaw clenched. "With my son in danger because of you."

The words hit like a physical blow.

Somewhere down the hall, a monitor beeped steadily.

Liam’s heartbeat.

Alive.

For now.

Sophia’s vision blurred. "I’ll fix this."

Ethan scoffed. "How?"

She had no answer.

Not yet.

But she would find one.

Even if it destroyed her.

The door creaked open—Isabella, pale and wide-eyed.

"They’re here," she whispered.

Sophia’s blood ran cold.

Too soon.

Ethan’s expression darkened. "Who?"

Isabella hesitated. "The police. And… someone else."

Sophia met Ethan’s gaze.

The game had just changed.

And neither of them was ready.

"Nathan..."

I didn’t let him finish. His words meant nothing to me now.

"Every time you sided with Isabella, every time you treated me like I was worthless. Every damn time you laughed when Ethan shattered my heart because I dared to hurt your precious sister—did you ever consider me family? What about when you said I deserved the pain? Or when William and Victoria acted like I didn’t exist? What about all those years you all pushed me away? Was I still your family then?"

Silence.

But what could he say? He knew the truth. Back then, I was nothing to him—just an unwanted burden. Someone they’d gladly erase if they could.

"So tell me, if you never saw me as family before, why should I see you as family now? This little act of yours won’t work on me."

My gaze burned into his. I used to notice the differences between us. Nathan and Isabella didn’t look alike, but you could tell they were siblings. Me? I didn’t resemble any of them. That should’ve been my first clue—I never belonged.

"Let’s be real. You never cared about me. The only reason you’re here is because you think you can use me. But I won’t let you. Go home, Nathan. And don’t ever come back."

With that, I shoved him away and slammed the door hard. My back pressed against it as I struggled to steady my breathing. A few minutes passed before I heard his car roar to life and speed off.

I needed to get out.

Grabbing my keys, I headed for the door—then paused. My eyes landed on the clothes Ethan had bought. I snatched them up, deciding to drop them off at a shelter on my way.

Minutes later, I was on the road, my mind a storm of emotions. First Ethan, now Nathan. The audacity of them, thinking they could just waltz back into my life and demand forgiveness. As if years of pain could be erased with a few hollow words.

If Ethan wasn’t Liam’s father, I would’ve cut him out completely. Everything I did, I did for Liam. So many times, I’ve been tempted to take him far away—but the love he has for his father always stops me.

I wanted to leave this place, but I knew it would hurt Liam. Ethan thought Liam loved me more. He didn’t realize the boy adored him just as much.

Spotting an ice cream shop, I pulled in. The front was crowded, so I parked around back.

I needed comfort. Maybe ice cream would help clear my head.

Inside the cozy little shop, I ordered a massive bowl. Normally, I’d eat any flavor, but when I was upset, only plain vanilla would do.

My thoughts drifted back to Nathan. I had no idea what my parents were thinking. I wasn’t the vengeful type—usually, I let karma handle things. And trust me, karma had a way of wrecking people in ways I never could.

But this time, I was torn. Part of me wanted to watch them burn. The other part just wanted to forget they existed. Did it make me cruel that the bigger part wanted them to suffer?

I finished my ice cream, but the conflict remained. Maybe talking to someone would help.

Deciding to see my therapist, I headed back to my car.

I never made it.

A hand clamped over my mouth and nose before I could scream. The world blurred—then vanished into darkness.