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The Triplets in One place
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2025-09-02 11:52:15Delilah’s Point of View
The morning light bled through the heavy curtains, too bright for my liking, too cheerful for a day I wanted to drown in silence. If the world had any sense of justice, I would be at a funeral today, standing over my sister’s grave, laying roses on the coffin of the only person who had ever truly known me. Instead, I am expected to plaster on a smile, wear a perfect dress, and attend a hospital reopening event as if the past had not buried me alive already.I dragged myself from bed, already exhausted by the thought of it all. Still, appearances mattered more than everything to Jackson for his image . Jackson’s betrayal had been whispered through the halls of society, the news of his affair staining our family like blood on snow. If I did not look perfect, if I did not scream I am Jackson Jack’s wife, and we are still together, then what would I be? Nothing. Less than nothing. So this appearance at the hospital is also
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BENEATH HER ASHES Fractured Crown
Delilah’s Point of view Last night had drained the life out of me in a way I did not expect. Between the grand reopening of the hospital that carried many secrets and Jackson Junior’s birthday celebration, I had worn every mask, smiled every forced smile, and played every role expected of the “perfect wife” until I thought my face would shatter. The best part of the night was when I reminded Amara Holt of her place . The applause, the flashing cameras, the endless toasts all of it was supposed to paint a picture of strength, of resilience and yet, when the lights dimmed, when the halls of the mansion emptied, all that remained was my exhaustion. The silence that screams louder is all I was left with when everyone left , a reminder that I have lost Rosaline who was always by my side .Well until she betrayed me by sleeping with my husband of all people .I rolled onto my back in bed, staring at the chandelier above, and let the silence settle. But ev
BENEATH HER ASHES Fragments of What was Lost
Emily’s Point of view The applause thundered through the hospital’s new glass atrium, bouncing against the polished marble floors and gleaming chandeliers. For a moment, I simply stood there, smiling as though the world belonged to me, though my heart felt strangely detached. My words had just poured out like a storm about rebirth, healing, and how this hospital would rise from its ashes to serve the forgotten again.But deep down, I was not celebrating. I was hunting.I let my gaze sweep across the crowd, past the endless rows of doctors in crisp coats and nurses in pressed uniforms, past the journalists and flashing cameras, until my eyes landed on something or rather, someone that made my heart freeze mid-beat.At the far side of the hall, beside the refreshment table, stood Nurse Nancy. She looked softer than I remembered, her once weary eyes now lined with something like cautious hope. And beside her .Two girls.
BENEATH HER ASHES The Triplets in One place
Delilah’s Point of View The morning light bled through the heavy curtains, too bright for my liking, too cheerful for a day I wanted to drown in silence. If the world had any sense of justice, I would be at a funeral today, standing over my sister’s grave, laying roses on the coffin of the only person who had ever truly known me. Instead, I am expected to plaster on a smile, wear a perfect dress, and attend a hospital reopening event as if the past had not buried me alive already. I dragged myself from bed, already exhausted by the thought of it all. Still, appearances mattered more than everything to Jackson for his image . Jackson’s betrayal had been whispered through the halls of society, the news of his affair staining our family like blood on snow. If I did not look perfect, if I did not scream I am Jackson Jack’s wife, and we are still together, then what would I be? Nothing. Less than nothing. So this appearance at the hospital is also
BENEATH HER ASHES Amara Holt the reflection of Emily
Delilah’s Point of view It had been two days since Rosaline died, and I still had not left my room. The curtains were drawn, the air stale with the heavy perfume of wine bottles scattered across the floor. My sister was gone, ripped from the world in the most humiliating way possible, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized how badly I had failed her. I did not even go to identify her body , instead I sent our uncle who has arranged Rosaline’s funeral to take place tomorrow. When Rosaline’s affair with Jackson became public, I should have handled it differently. I should have protected her, confronted her privately, anything but the cold silence and humiliation I gave her. She was my blood, my sister, and my only anchor in this miserable world and yet I had let my anger speak louder than my love. And now… now it was too late to say I was sorry. The past two days had also shown me something I had never wante
BENEATH HER ASHES Ghosts of the past
Emily’s Point of view The penthouse was very quiet when I returned, the kind of silence that pressed against your chest like a weight. I set my bag down carefully, but inside I was still trembling. My heart had not calmed since I left the park.Jackson Junior’s voice echoed in my mind, his soft, fragile confession that no one would remembered his birthday and that sometimes he felt invisible even in his own home. That was not something a child should carry. Not any child and especially not one with his father’s name. But then again what did I expect from Delilah and Jackson, they can not manage a company so what do they know about raising a child.I walked to the window, staring down at the city lights, and pressed my hand against the cold glass. He deserved better. And yet, in Delilah’s and Jackson’s world, he was treated like an afterthought. A child should be the center of his parents’ universe, not pushed aside like furniture in a crowded room. They are lucky they got to be paren
BENEATH HER ASHES The Job Offer
Nurse Nancy’s Point of view The soft crackle of the radio filled the tiny kitchen as I stirred porridge over the stove. Morning light filtered weakly through the curtains, pale and gray, like it was afraid to touch this house. Jane sat at the table with her inhaler beside her plate, her chest rising and falling in shallow little waves. Primrose sat opposite, swinging her legs under the chair, a magazine spread open in front of her.I tried to focus on the porridge, on the little domestic sounds that made our mornings feel ordinary. But the words from the radio cut sharper than the hiss of boiling milk.“Breaking news: Rosaline Greene, long-serving executive assistant to businessman Jackson Jack, has died in what authorities are calling a tragic car accident…”My hands froze on the spoon. Rosaline Greene. Even though I had never met her, her name carried weight in this city. Jackson Jack’s people… They had always been too close to po
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