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Pressure Point

Author: Guddi pen
last update publish date: 2025-12-17 08:56:08

CHAPTER TWELVE: PRESSURE POINT

ANNALISE

“The doctor is coming here? Mum, don’t be ridiculous!” Aiden’s voice cut through the room—sharp, urgent, yet tightly controlled.

I stood beside him, fingers gripping the hem of my shirt until it dug painfully into my skin. My stomach churned violently—not just the usual queasiness, but a deep, twisting discomfort that left my muscles tense and my chest tight. I felt exposed, as though anyone could see straight through me, could see exactly how fragile I w
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    ANNALISE/LISA I could still feel him there, at the edge of the garden, a presence that consumed every corner of my mind. Even as the whispers of the guests faded into a tense hush, every nerve in my body remained alert, wound tight like a spring ready to snap. My chest ached under the weight of anticipation, and my hands trembled with the memory of his gaze. Sam’s eyes had always had a way of finding me, of seeing through every layer I tried to hide, and now, standing there in the sunlight filtering through the trees, he saw me more clearly than anyone ever had. Jason stayed close, his hand gripping mine like a lifeline, a grounding force in the storm of my emotions. But even his solid presence could not ease the tight coil of panic and fear that had wrapped itself around my heart. My legs threatened to give way under me, as though the ground itself had become unstable. My mind spun with the impossible question: How had he found me? After all these years, after everything I had don

  • I HEARD HIM SAY " DADDY"   Fractured Truths

    ANNALISE/LISA I could still feel him there, at the edge of the garden, a presence that consumed every corner of my mind. Even as the whispers of the guests faded into a tense hush, every nerve in my body remained alert, wound tight like a spring ready to snap. My chest ached under the weight of anticipation, and my hands trembled with the memory of his gaze. Sam’s eyes had always had a way of finding me, of seeing through everything I tried to hide, and now, standing there in the sunlight filtering through the trees, he saw me more clearly than anyone ever had. Jason stayed close, his hand still gripping mine, a grounding force in the storm of my emotions. But even his presence, solid and unwavering, could not ease the tight coil of panic and fear that had wrapped itself around my heart. My legs threatened to give way under me, as though the ground itself had become unstable, and my mind spun with the impossible question: How had he found me? After all these years, after everything

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    ELENA The quiet that followed Sam’s departure did not bring relief. Instead, it pressed down on me with a suffocating weight, as though the house itself had absorbed his presence and refused to let it go. I stood in the hallway long after the gate had closed behind him, my body rigid, my senses stretched thin, listening for something—anything—that would confirm he was truly gone. But there was nothing. No footsteps. No movement. No sound beyond the faint hum of the world continuing outside. And somehow, that silence unsettled me more than his presence ever could. Because Sam was not a man who left without purpose. Slowly, I exhaled, but the breath did nothing to steady the storm inside me. My heart continued to pound against my ribs, sharp and relentless, as though it already understood what my mind was still trying to process. Something was wrong. Not in a way I could immediately see or touch, but in a way I could feel deep in my bones—a quiet, creeping certainty that today

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    ELENA For a long time after Sam left, I did not move. The silence he left behind was heavier than usual, sharp and suffocating, as though the walls themselves had absorbed the tension and refused to release it. My body remained rigid, every muscle coiled, waiting for something—anything—to shatter the fragile calm again. But nothing came. Only the steady hum of the house returned, indifferent and unfeeling, as though the storm that had just passed had no meaning at all. I exhaled slowly, my fingers tightening slightly around my son’s hand before I forced myself to loosen my grip. He did not need to feel my fear, and he certainly did not deserve to carry it. “Mummy?” His small voice pulled me back from the edge of my thoughts. It was soft, uncertain, and yet somehow demanding my full attention. I blinked and lowered my gaze. His eyes searched mine, wide and trusting, innocent but perceptive in a way that made my chest ache. Children always knew more than we gave them credit for. Th

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