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CHAPTER 3.
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2025-07-17 06:18:27Taylor Walker.
The name echoed in Olivia's head. She hadn't heard her mother's name in over a decade. It was that part of her she was taking to the grave. The woman that abandoned her after her father's death went to adopt a son. Was she that bad that her mother had to leave her? She questioned herself. Theo was watching her now, confusion in his eyes. “Taylor Walker is your mum?” “I'm sorry I have to leave.” Olivia said as she hurriedly grabbed her things and ran out of the coffee shop before Theo could say another word. Olivia kept walking, faster and faster, until she was practically sprinting down the sidewalk. She had no idea of where she was going but she just wanted to leave. She reached a quiet corner and leaned her back against a brick wall, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath. Her entire life has been a lie. The woman she forced herself to believe, left her out of grief. That she lost her husband and just couldn't handle what was left of him and maybe she reminded her of him. But this is worse. She left her to build a new life. Adopted a son and raised him. While she had to grow up alone, hide from the secret service, work to take care of herself and pay for school. It was too much information for her to take in. A part of her wishes she had remained ignorant and the other part of her is a bit happy she knows the woman who gave birth to her and who she doesn't want to be. The betrayal stung sharper than she thought. Olivia thought she'd cried all the tears she had last night, but her throat was tight again and her eyes were watery again. Her phone buzzed in her purse. She took it out. Theo. Where are you? Olivia exhaled shakily. She slid her phone back into her bag and stared up at the sky. Somewhere in Los Angeles, her mother was living happily with her ex. As his mother. She wiped her face, and pushed off the wall. She couldn't let this break her. Not after everything she has done to raise herself. If Taylor had chosen to erase her, she would return the favour. –– Back in her office, Katie, her secretary, peeked in after the second knock. “There's someone here to see you.” “I'm not taking any visitors.” Katie hesitated. “It's Mr. Page.” Olivia's jaw tightened. “Bring him in.” She said softly. A few minutes later, he stepped in. He took the seat across and sat in front of her. “Did you know?” She asked, her voice low. “Did you know about my mum?” Theo didn't blink. “No.” Olivia scoffed, shaking her head. “So what, you just casually walk in here, offer to invest in my company, invite me to a party that Alex was attending and then ‘mistakenly’ tell me that my boyfriend's foster mother is my real mother?” “Pretty much, yes. Except the fact that I'm not lying.” He said, in a neutral tone. “Is this a joke to you?” She said, raising her voice. Theo remained composed and relaxed in the chair. “I'm not laughing.” He leaned forward, elbow on his knees. “Listen, I had no fucking clue, believe it or not.” He leaned back into the chair. Silence filled the room. Olivia wanted to believe him but her guard was up now. Too much had unravelled in just 24 hours. Her boyfriend is a liar. Her mother abandoned her to start a new life. Theo was just….there. Olivia stood up from her seat and started packing her bags. “I'm sorry but I have to go home. I can't deal with all of this.” She turned the doorknob and Theo said, “I know where she lives, if you want to see her.” It was as if Theo had dropped a bomb in the room. Seeing her mum was the last thing she expected him to say. A part of her wants to see the woman who cowardly abandoned her, who left her to rot. She wants her to see how good and perfect her life is now and probably give her a heart attack due to the surprise visit. But another part of her doesn’t want to have anything to do with her. She wants to erase her like her mum did to her. She wants to live her life believing the woman is dead. Because to her, she is. “Do you want me to take you?” Olivia froze at the door. She turned halfway, her hands still gripping the doorknob. “And, why would you ask that?” Theo stood slowly, his voice calm. “Because you still have questions and I don't have the answers.” Olivia stood quietly staring at him. “You don’t have to go,” he said quietly. “But if you want to, I'll take you.” Olivia took a deep breath in and out. She had no idea what to do. “It's your choice.” Theo said as he leaned on the table with his legs crossed.
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MASKS AND ILLUSIONS CHAPTER 33.
OLIVIA’S POV.I had never thought that I'd see the day that I would be standing in the middle of the room I once called home. My former sanctuary. I've been wallowing in the past, and when I had relived the death of my father, I thought, "What wouldn't I re experience." But this came a shock to me. It feels like I'm starting my life all over again. From when I was little to Daniella and I and now this. Important pieces of my life that have shaped me into who I am. Five years ago, I would have killed to be in this house. But now, it is a reminder of my past mistakes, my burden, the genesis of everything. Where Alex and I once lived. Tears roll down my eye as I look around the room. Every piece of furniture, ever painting, every item in this apartment had a memory attached to it. A floorboard creaks behind me, though I know no one is there.I turn anyway, half expecting Alex to stroll in with that crooked grin, a plastic bag of gas station snacks swinging from his wrist.But nothing
MASKS AND ILLUSIONS side note.
I apologise for the ridiculously long chapters earlier, I didn't want to drag on a few emotions into other chapters. Bear with me.
MASKS AND ILLUSIONS CHAPTER 32.
THEO’S POV. The office is a sheet of glass suspended over rain. From my desk, the city lies below in streaks of wet neon tail lights stretched into red ribbons, tower cranes blinking against low clouds. Rain needles the windows hard enough to blur the skyline, soft enough to keep me anchored here. The building’s HVAC hums like a low tuned cello. Everyone else has gone home; their absence presses into the carpet, the silence between elevator chimes. Only the cleaning crew remains, and a faint vacuum drone several floors down. Midnight is closing in, and I’m still wired. Two monitors spill light across the desk. One shows the quarterly projections; the other, a chain of emails from Singapore where it’s already morning. Contracts to revise, numbers to grind. I roll my shoulders, feel the knots tighten instead of loosening. The rain sharpens. Each drop hits the glass with a muted click. The sound is strangely soothing steady percussion under the restless city beat. I rub my eye
MASKS AND ILLUSIONS CHAPTER 31.
OLIVIA’S POV I am walking into the unknown. I just kept moving. The air carries the sharp tang of disinfectant and something warmer, like linen that’s been ironed. The corridor stretches ahead in a straight, endless line. White walls. Square ceiling tiles. Every few feet, a framed print: muted landscapes, washed-out blues, and greens. Someone once decided these pictures would soothe people waiting for good news or bracing for bad. I glide past the first door. A low hum seeps through, the quiet murmur of nurses’ voices. The sound folds around me like a thin blanket. A cart squeaks somewhere far off, rubber wheels over linoleum, and the faint hiss of an oxygen line whispers from behind a closed curtain. All of it is so ordinary that it borders on comforting. I trail my fingertips along the wall. The paint is cool and faintly gritty. My nails make the lightest rasp, a sound swallowed by the overhead buzz of fluorescent bulbs. I pause beneath a vent, feeling a soft breath of ai
MASKS AND ILLUSIONS CHAPTER 30.
Daniella’s POV The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was the light, sliding through the blinds. The second thing was the knot in my neck from sleeping half-sitting against the arm of the couch. Sometime during the night I’d given up on the bed and drifted off here, still in yesterday’s T-shirt, the phone that had stolen most of my sleep facedown on the coffee table. I lay still for a minute, listening. The building hummed its usual morning soundtrack, a pipe clanking as someone showered upstairs, the muffled scrape of a neighbour’s chair, a distant car horn. The phone was within reach. I didn’t touch it. Instead, I forced myself upright, stretching until my shoulders popped and padded to the kitchen. The tiles were cold under my bare feet, a small shock that helped shake off the fog. I filled the kettle and set it on the stove. Last night’s text hovered at the edge of my mind anyway. I’d read it three times before finally setting the phone face-down, telling
MASKS AND ILLUSIONS CHAPTER 29.
Daniella’s POV The hospital doors slide apart with a hiss . I step inside, and the smell of disinfectant rushes up, sharp enough to sting the back of my throat. It’s the same sterile mix I’ve come to know over the past weeks, bleach and cold air and the faint hum of machines, but today it pricks at my nerves like static. My boots squeak on the polished floor. Each step echoes louder than I expect. I tell myself it’s just the acoustics. The front desk sits beneath a broad fluorescent halo. A nurse in powder-blue scrubs glances up from her screen. Her smile is small and polite. “Good afternoon. Visiting?” she asks. “Yes. Olivia Harichi,” I say, the words catching slightly in my throat. “She’s in ICU, room 411.” She types quickly, fingers whispering across the keyboard. “ID, please.” I slide my license across the counter, and while she checks it, my gaze keeps snagging on the elevator behind her. The doors open, close. Families step out clutching flowers, overnight bags, an
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