Chapter Eight

Selene had both hands tangled in her hair as she stared at the photos scattered across her desk like a crime scene. Each image cut her deeper, and with every glance her grip tightened, her jaw locked, rage simmering in her eyes.

Then, slowly, she inhaled. Straightened. Forced her face into that soft, professional smile she wore so well.

“Thank you for this, Michael. Eileen will settle you accordingly,” she said, her voice steady though her chest ached.

“You’re welcome. I’ll leave the photos with you. I’ll also send a written report and digital copies to your email,” Michael replied.

Selene nodded, rising to her feet. “Once again, thank you.”

He took her hand firmly, hesitated, then added quietly, “For what it’s worth, I hope you leave this man and find someone who loves you the way you deserve.”

Selene managed a faint smile. Gratitude flickered in her eyes, but the words caught in her throat. Michael gave a polite nod, then left with Eileen at his side.

The office door clicked shut.

Silence engulfed her. Now, she was alone.

Selene stood still until her legs gave way, then sank into her chair. Her hands slid to her face, her shoulders shaking. The sobs came hard and fast, muffled against the desk as she lowered her head unto it. Damien had been right. A part of her always knew. But confirmation—seeing it with her own eyes—cut like a blade twisting inside her.

“Selene…”

She didn’t look. She didn’t need to.

Her mother’s figure stood beside her desk, quiet, familiar, watching.

“Why do you cry, Selene?” the voice asked gently.

Selene lifted her head, cheeks wet, eyes raw. “I did everything right. I loved him like no other. And it wasn’t enough? Was I not good enough? Tell me what I did wrong. Was I too much? Or not enough? Because I gave him everything, and still, he chose her.”

She blinked and more tears fell. Her voice broke. “How do you love someone so deeply… and they still look at someone else like you never existed?”

The figure moved closer, a hand brushing her back gently. “No. You weren’t enough for him. But he was never worthy of all you gave.”

Selene’s lips trembled. Selene looked down, her eyes red and teary. The figure tilted her head slightly, studying Selene's face before continuing.

“You think love is a shield,” the figure continued. “It isn’t. It’s a gamble. And you lost this one.”

Selene stared at her, broken. “That’s why he cheated with my best friend? Maybe I wasn’t there when he needed me. Maybe I didn’t satisfy him enough.” her voice quivered as she spoke.

“He didn’t cheat because you lacked anything,” the figure said, her tone calm but sure. “He cheated because he did. Weak men run to what’s easy when they can’t handle what’s real.”

Selene closed her eyes, tears sliding down.

“And Scarlett?” the figure added. “She was never your friend. Just someone waiting for a chance. Who knows if meeting you was even a coincidence.”

The words struck sharp. She couldn’t speak. The pain was heavy in her chest. Selene sobbed openly now, burying her face in her hands, and all the while, the figure kept rubbing her back.

“Why do all the people I love hurt me?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

“Because you keep giving your heart to people who only know how to break things,” the figure said, tilting her head slightly. Her tone softened, but it didn’t lose its truth. “You’re not searching for love, Selene. You’re searching for proof. Proof that someone will finally choose you… and stay.”

Her shoulders shook harder. Then the truth clawed its way out.

“Then why did you leave me?” Selene cried. “You could’ve chosen me. You were all I needed. Why did you and Dad have to die? You were supposed to protect me.”

The figure faltered. Her eyes shimmered. “I didn’t choose to leave you.”

Her voice cracked for the first time. Something shifted on her face—grief, maybe. Regret. Whatever it was, it made Selene pause.

“And your father…” the figure exhaled. “You know death doesn’t ask for permission.”

A single tear slipped down her cheek.

It was the first time Selene had seen her cry. But she was too heartbroken to reach for her, too broken to respond.

The figure quickly wiped her tears away.

She stepped closer, her voice lower now. “But I should’ve been there. I know that. I was supposed to protect you, and I didn’t. That’s why I keep coming back, isn’t it?” She gave a small, hollow smile. “You only see me when you’re breaking.”

Selene stood still, taking in the words. Her throat tightened. Then, quietly, she asked,

“What do I do now? Where do I go from here?”

The figure leaned close, voice low, fierce. “You survive. You stand, even when it feels like you can’t. You walk through the fire they lit around you. And you don’t wait to be saved. You decide what this pain makes of you—ashes… or something they’ll regret burning.” Her eyes burned into Selene’s. “Selene Ward… make them pay.”

Selene bit her bottom lip as she held the figure’s gaze. Her chest rose and fell quickly, breath unsteady. Tears streaked her cheeks, but she didn’t look away.

She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to.

They just stared at each other—for once, not as ghost and daughter, but as two women who had loved and lost too much. And somehow, in the silence between them, everything else was said.

“Ma’am!”

Selene blinked, whipped her head toward the door. Eileen stood there, worry carved on her face. Selene wiped quickly at her cheeks, breathing hard. She turned back—the figure was gone.

Her eyes returned to Eileen, now stepping closer.

“Don’t worry, ma’am. I understand,” Eileen said softly.

“Thank you, Eileen. You can go home now.” Selene’s voice was drained, almost hollow.

Eileen lingered. “I’ll see if I can swing by for your meds soon.”

“It’s fine. I’ll pick it up myself. I haven’t even finished the last batches,” Selene murmured.

“Ma’am…” Eileen hesitated, her voice gentler. “Will you be okay?”

Selene’s mouth opened, then closed but the words didn’t come right away. Finally, she whispered, “I… I don’t know. I’ll sleep on it. Go home, Eileen. It's getting late. Send my love to Rain—I’ll visit soon.”

Eileen nodded but didn’t move. Her feet stayed planted, her eyes fixed on Selene’s. A beat passed before she spoke, her voice quiet.

“You know, when I was younger, I read a book where the main character said—‘Pain cannot be measured. It can be served, it can be tweaked, and it can be felt.’ I didn’t really understand it back then. But I think I do now. And I just want you to know… whatever you decide, I’ll wholeheartedly support you.”

Selene looked at her, and for a second, her expression softened.

“Thank you, Eileen,” she said, meaning every word.

“Goodnight, ma’am.” Eileen gave her a small smile.

“Goodnight, Eileen,” Selene echoed.

Eileen gave a small bow and turned, her footsteps quiet as she left the room.

Selene sat alone again, the photos still spread across her desk, her mother’s words echoing in the silence.

Make them pay.