CHAPTER 4.

Grace’s POV.

When I burst into the police station, my chest heaving, my voice trembling, I demanded, “Where is she? Where is Sarah?”

The officer at the front desk looked up from his papers. “She’s being detained,” he said evenly.

“On what grounds?” Panic tightened my throat. “What did she do?”

He hesitated, then pulled a file from the stack beside him. “She’s been accused of kidnapping.”

The word hit me like a slap. I froze. “Kidnapping?” My voice shook. “That’s impossible.”

He slid the file across the desk. “The report accuses her of kidnapping a couple’s child who went missing twenty-two years ago.”

My knees weakened. I stared at the file, confusion twisting inside me. Nothing made sense.

“No… this can’t be true. My mother wouldn’t do this. Who made these accusations? I’m her only child.”

The officer opened his mouth, but a familiar voice behind me stopped him. Low, cold, impossible.

“I did.”

I turned slowly. My body went rigid.

Standing there, expression unreadable, was my father— the man who had found me just two weeks ago.

The world fell away. I was the child in that file. The one my mother had supposedly stolen.

“What is going on? Why would you arrest my adoptive mother on such a claim? She raised me. She is the only reason I’m here. What is all this about?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Calm, too calm for the storm he had thrown me into. Then:

“Follow me, Grace,” if you want to understand. This is not a matter to be spoken about here.”

I followed him, mind torn between anger and confusion.

He led me into a quiet café nearby, choosing a corner seat away from the few people inside. I sat across from him, heart pounding.

I repeated the question, louder this time. “Why did you do this? Why accuse my mother of something so terrible all of a sudden when it’s been two weeks since you found me?”

His eyes met mine, steady, almost pitying. “Because we decided to press charges against her as we believed she lied about how she found you.”

I shook my head violently. “What? No! How could you do this after believing her and being happy that she raised me well?”

“We had to change our minds, Grace, and put her where she deserves to be.”

“No, you can’t. She didn’t kidnap me,” I said, voice shaking, but the truth hit me at that moment.

“Wait… is this because I refused to replace Isabella in her marriage?”

His gaze shifted away. My heart sank.

“Yes, Grace. It is,” he said quietly. His voice dropped slightly. “I’m glad you understood sooner than later.”

I gasped. The shame in his eyes lasted a fraction of a second, confirming everything.

“What? How could you be this evil?”

“We had to, to make you agree. We’re in a dire situation. Help us, and your mother won’t be charged.”

“You cannot mean that. This arrest isn’t solely about kidnapping—it’s coercion. You’re using my mother to control me.”

“Yes. I am sorry it has come to this,” he said.

Tears filled my eyes. I reached forward, pleading. “Please, don’t do this. Let her go. She’s innocent. Please, Father.”

He didn’t flinch. “I’m sorry, Grace. It’s the only way. The groom reached out, demanding to have you come to his place before nightfall. We don’t have a choice, Grace.”

My lips quivered. “No. I won’t. I will fight for her innocence myself, no matter what it takes. You can’t use her to control me.”

His expression stayed firm, almost pitying. “You don’t understand. We’re beyond reason now. Go against us, and she stays in jail. It’s that simple.”

The words sank like cold water. My whole body trembled—not just from anger, but helplessness. I couldn’t look at him anymore.

Without another word, I stood and walked out. My legs barely carried me.

When I reached the station, I expected her to still be there. Instead, I froze. An ambulance was parked outside.

Paramedics rushed around with a stretcher. On it lay my adoptive mother, pale, her eyes closed.

My scream caught in my throat. “Mother! What happened? Where are you taking her?”

No one answered. I chased after them, following the ambulance to the hospital. My heart pounded so violently I felt sick.

At the hospital, she had been taken into emergency care. I paced, crying, praying, until the doctor finally emerged.

I rushed to him. “How is she? Tell me she’s okay.”

He sighed and gestured for me to follow him into his office. Trembling, I sat.

“I’m not going to lie to you,” he began softly.

“Your mother collapsed because she’s very ill. Tests show she has advanced leukemia. She needs surgery and a donor urgently if she is to survive.”

I covered my mouth. “Leukemia? No… this cannot be real. She never told me.”

“She may not have known the extent herself,” he said gently. “But she needs treatment immediately. Two weeks at most before her condition worsens beyond help. She must remain in the hospital under close monitoring until then.”

I grabbed his hand desperately. “Keep her here. Treat her. She cannot go back to prison. She won’t survive it.”

The doctor’s face darkened. “The problem is legal. She is in custody. Unless charges are dropped, she cannot remain here. The police will not allow it.”

His words knocked the air out of me. My mother’s life was tied to the choice I had fought against.

That night, torn apart, I returned to my parents’ home. My father and mother waited, eyes on me.

Voice trembling, I said, “I will do it. I will take Isabella’s place. But you must promise to release my mother now. Drop the charges. Close the case. Swear to me.”

My father nodded slowly, expression unreadable, satisfaction faint beneath it. “We will do as you ask. You have made the right choice, Grace.”

Inside, I felt nothing but emptiness. My mother’s freedom had come at the cost of my own.