Chapter 345
The hotel room felt stifling, suffocating me with its oppressive silence. I paced back and forth, my nerves stretched taut like a wire ready to snap. Timothy had been gone for what felt like an eternity, and with each passing moment, my anxiety mounted like a rising tide.
When the door finally swung open, relief flooded through me like a cool breeze on a sweltering day. Timothy stepped inside, his expression a mixture of concern and weariness. He greeted me with a soft smile, but it faltered as soon as he caught sight of the distress etched into every line of my face.
"Evie," he said softly, his voice laced with worry. "What's wrong? Did you find her?"
I opened my mouth to speak, to spill out all the fears and doubts that had been gnawing at me since my mother’s true face was revealed. But the words caught in my throat, suffocated by the weight of my own uncertainty.
Timothy crossed the room in a few quick strides, pulling me into his arms with a tenderness that made my heart ache. "Hey, it's okay," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm against the raw edges of my emotions. "We’re going to put an end to this."
I wanted to believe him, I truly did. But the specter of doubt loomed large in the recesses of my mind, casting shadows that seemed to swallow me whole.
"My mom," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. "I wish I was wrong about her. I could never trust her, but the thought of her being a murderer hurts even more than that."
Timothy's brow furrowed and he tilted his head, his gaze searching mine. "I get it. She’s still your mother, regardless of what she put you through. Sending her to jail won’t be easy.”
I swallowed hard, steeling myself for the words that threatened to choke me with their bitter truth. "But she betrayed us, Timothy," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed anger. "She threw you under the bus, and she tried to manipulate me into marrying Kamran. How can I still feel anything toward her?"
Timothy's expression softened, his eyes filled with understanding. "Because you’re human, and probably the kindest person I’ve ever met," he said gently, his hand brushing the hair away from my face. "You want to believe in her, despite her faults."
He was right, of course. Despite all the pain Mia had caused, despite all the lies and betrayals, a part of me still longed for the mother I had lost so many years ago.
But I couldn't let that longing blind me to the truth. I couldn't let Mia escape the consequences of her actions, no matter how much it hurt.
"It has to be done," I said firmly, my voice filled with determination. "It’s not about me anymore. Others will suffer. Your father.."
Timothy nodded in silent agreement, his expression solemn. We lay side by side on the bed, our bodies tangled together. I turned to him, the question burning on my lips.
"Speaking of, why wouldn't your father listen to you, Timothy?" I asked, my voice soft but laced with frustration. “Did he really fall in love with my mother that quickly?”
Timothy's gaze flickered away, his expression clouded with resignation. "I don't know, Evie," he admitted. "Maybe he's still mourning my mother in his own way. But instead of facing his grief, he's chosen to... to find someone else to fill that empty space inside."
His words hung in the air between us. I couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for Kamran, despite everything he had done to disrespect me in the past. To lose someone you love, to be left with nothing but the hollow ache of emptiness and loss... it was a pain I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.
"I'm sorry, Timothy," I said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "I can't imagine how hard it must be for you, to see your father move on so quickly."
Timothy's jaw clenched. "He’s pulled a lot of crap in the past," he began, "But I actually pity him for this."
"He's lost, Timothy," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "But when this is all over, hopefully he’ll find some other way to move on. Maybe he’ll realize that he still has family here that he needs to treat right."
Timothy's gaze softened, his eyes meeting mine as he caressed my cheek. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Hopefully."
But even as sleep claimed me, dragging me down into its murky depths, the shadows of doubt lingered on the edges of my consciousness, whispering of dangers yet to come.
I woke up feeling suffocated. I couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that it had gone far too quiet, even as the clock was reaching eleven at night. As I lay in the darkness, my thoughts spiraled down a treacherous path.
Was my mother truly capable of murder? The question came and went, seeming more and more ludicrous with each mention. I couldn't deny the cold, hard truth staring me in the face: if she had killed all those people, what was to stop her from killing me if the time called for it?
With trembling hands, I reached for the gun tucked away in the bedside table drawer. It felt heavy and cold against my skin.
But before I could dwell any longer on the grim possibilities that lay ahead, a sharp intake of breath shattered the silence. I looked up to see Timothy staring at me, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief.
"What are you doing with that?" he demanded, his voice tinged with urgency.
I hesitated, unsure how to explain the tumult of emotions raging within me. "I... I was just...," I stammered, my words faltering in the face of his unwavering gaze.
Timothy's expression softened. "That’s Mia’s, isn’t it?" he asked gently, reaching out to touch my shoulder.
I recoiled instinctively and shuttered, glaring at the gun that seemed to be following us everywhere. "Yes, it is," I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. "I think... I think she brought this gun along to kill your father."
Timothy's eyes widened in horror, his breath catching in his throat. Without missing a beat, he checked the time on his phone and leaped out of bed with a sense of urgency.
"We need to check on them," he said, his voice tense with apprehension. "Now."
I nodded in silent agreement, my heart pounding in my chest as we hurried out of the room and made our way to the penthouse. Every step felt like an eternity until we reached the door.
Then a blood-curdling scream echoed through the hallway, freezing us in our tracks. My pulse quickened, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps as I braced myself for what lay beyond.
The door burst open with a deafening crash, and my mother stumbled out into the hallway, her eyes wild with panic. She caught sight of me and staggered forward, her voice trembling with fear.
"Evie," she gasped, her words coming out in ragged bursts as her nails dug into me. "Kamran... he's not breathing."
