When I opened my eyes, the world was white. The steady beep of the monitor beside me echoed faintly in my ears. My whole body ached, as though I’d been crushed and stitched back together. The ceiling light blurred, the smell of antiseptic sharp in the air.
“Emerald.”
My mother’s voice broke softly through the fog. She was sitting beside me, her eyes swollen and tired. “Don’t move yet. Just rest for now.”
I tried to speak, but my throat burned. “Mom… what happened?”
She reached for my hand, holding it gently. I felt her tremble before I even saw the tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “The baby… you lost it.”
The words sank in slowly, like stones in water. My breath caught; my heart clenched, but no sound came out. I stared at her, hoping she’d take it back, that maybe she meant something else.
But her eyes said everything. The baby—my last small hope—was gone.
I felt the tears slide down my face before I even realized I was crying. The pain spread through me, sharp and hollow, until it was too much to breathe. I wanted to scream, to curse the world, to ask why it kept taking everything from me—but no words would come.
My mother leaned forward, pressing my hand to her cheek. “I’m sorry, my daughter. You’ve been through too much. The trauma, the stress—it was too much for your body.”
I swallowed hard, staring at the ceiling. “So… it’s gone?”
She nodded.
Something inside me cracked, but at the same time, I felt lighter—emptier, yes, but free in a strange, cruel way. The weight that had chained me to that house, to that man, to that lie, was gone. At least now, I wouldn’t have to raise another piece of Nathan.
I wiped my tears, voice trembling. “Maybe it’s better this way.”
My mother’s eyes widened. “Emerald—”
“No, Mom,” I said softly. “It hurts, but… I can’t cry for it anymore. I have nothing left to lose.” I met her eyes, steady now. “But I will make them pay. All of them.”
She brushed my hair from my face, her touch trembling. “I talked to your brother,” she said after a moment. “He’s waiting. He’ll help us.”
“Us?”
She smiled faintly through her tears. “Yes. I’m coming with you. I’m leaving your father.”
For a moment, I didn’t believe her. My mother—who had endured years of silence and humiliation—finally choosing herself.
“He’s been with that woman for years,” she continued quietly. “I told him I won’t live like that anymore. Let him have her. I’m done pretending.”
The words hit me harder than I expected. I felt the tears return, but this time, they were warm—not from pain, but relief. “Thank you, Mom,” I whispered, clutching her hand. “For finally choosing yourself.”
She smiled sadly. “No, Emerald. For once, I’m choosing you.”
For a while, we sat in silence, just holding hands. The hum of the machines and the faint rhythm of my heartbeat were the only sounds in the room.
But peace never lasted long in our family.
The door opened, and my father stepped in—his suit perfect, his expression sharp. “You’re awake,” he said curtly.
“Honey,” my mother said, standing up quickly.
He ignored her, his gaze fixed on me. “I want you to address the media tomorrow. You’ll deny any connection to your brother and also the affair between Amber and Nathan saying it is just a misunderstanding and you have a happy family. Do you understand?”
I hesitated. “Dad, I—”
“You will do it,” he said firmly. “Our name is already being dragged through every headline. Fix this mess, Emerald. Tomorrow morning. And while you’re at it—apologize to your stepsister and to your husband. Publicly.”
I clenched my fists under the blanket but nodded. “Alright,” I said quietly. I didn’t want to argue anymore.
Satisfied, he straightened his coat. “Good. Nathan and Amber will come by later. You’ll apologize in person before the press conference.”
When he left, my mother exhaled shakily. “Don’t let him see you break,” she murmured. “We’ll be gone soon.”
And so I waited.
When Nathan and Amber arrived, their faces wore the same masks I’d seen for years—smooth, practiced, false.
Amber approached first, her arm in a sling, crocodile tears ready in her eyes. “Emerald,” she said softly, “I’m glad you’re feeling better. I never wanted things to get this bad between us.”
I looked at her, forcing a small smile. “Me too. I’m sorry… for everything.”
Nathan placed a hand on her shoulder, feigning concern. “We’re family, Emerald,” he said, his tone almost tender. “Let’s not make this worse than it already is.”
They played their part well—two perfect victims, all sympathy and sweetness. I mirrored their act, smiling faintly, nodding in all the right places.
When they finally left, I exhaled, the smile falling off my face like a mask I no longer needed.
That night, the hospital felt too quiet. The clock on the wall ticked endlessly as I stared at the dark window. My mother sat by the edge of the bed, her coat folded over her arm.
Then, just past midnight, the door opened again—softly this time.
“Ms. Emerald?” a man whispered. “It’s time.”
My mother stood, glancing at me. “Are you ready?”
I nodded.
We followed him through the back corridor, where the lights were dim and the halls were empty. The air outside was cool against my skin as we stepped into the night. A black car waited for us, its windows tinted.
The drive was silent. My mother held my hand tightly, and for once, neither of us looked back.
When the car stopped, I looked up to see the faint outline of a private helicopter waiting at the edge of an empty airfield. As the helicopter lifted off, the lights of the city below blurred into gold and white.
The noise, the lies, the pain—it all began to fade with every meter we climbed.
I leaned back against the seat, closing my eyes. My body was still weak, my heart still raw, but for the first time in years, I could breathe.
