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The World Does Not Wait for the Forgotten
Last Updated:
2025-08-02 23:14:26
Latest chapter
Unworthy No More A Call And A Choice
Isla The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes the next morning was the faint blue glow of my phone on the nightstand. Sophie’s school alarm had not gone off yet, but Rachel’s message from last night still sat there, waiting for me like a bookmark in the middle of a story.I have got an idea.I re-read it three times while lying in bed, my hair in a wild halo from sleep, the blanket tangled around my legs. There was no other detail. She had not followed up, had not sent a cheery “good morning” or a nudge. And yet my stomach was already doing small, hopeful somersaults. Hope is such a fragile thing. You learn to handle it carefully after you have had it crushed enough times.Sophie padded in a few minutes later, her hair sticking up like a dandelion puff. “Morning, Mum.” She climbed into bed beside me, her feet freezing against my legs. “Morning, love.” I kissed the top of her head. “Want toast or porridge today?” “Toast. With lots of butter.”“Lots of butter it is.”We moved throug
Unworthy No More Initial Zeal Reignited
IslaThursday morning came faster than I expected. I almost canceled twice. Once when I noticed the faint stain on the cuff of my blouse, the only “smart” one I owned now, and once again when Sophie decided she wanted only the pink socks with the tiny gold stars and nothing else would do.But somehow, we both made it out the door. I dropped her at school, her hair ribbon slightly askew, and then took a cab to the cafe Rachel had suggested. It was the kind of place that smelled like toasted bagels and ambition, laptops open, people leaning over coffee cups with that sharp, hungry look I used to recognize in myself. I tugged my blouse straighter and scanned the room.Rachel spotted me first. She looked almost exactly the same, though her hair was shorter now, with neat silver threads glinting under the café lights. When she smiled, the knot in my chest loosened.“Isla,” she said warmly, standing to hug me. “It’s been… what, four years?” “Closer to seven,” I admitted, sliding into the se
Unworthy No More A Quiet Morning
IslaThe kettle clicked off, the sharp hiss resounding in our tiny apartment. The sunlight slipped through the blind, the rays reflected across the kitchen table where Sophie sat with her favorite bowl of oatmeal, swinging her little legs beneath the chair.I eased myself into the seat opposite her, a mug of tea warming my palms. My feet still ached from yesterday’s long walk home, the blisters were tender but manageable after soaking them in warm water last night. I had gone to bed bone-tired, but my mind refused to settle. Every time I closed my eyes, Alexander’s words replayed. You matter. Do not forget that.It was strange, having someone say that without expecting anything in return. Nathaniel used to shower me with gifts in the beginning, but it always came with strings, something I had to prove, some perfection I had to maintain. This felt different, and that difference unnerved me more than I wanted to admit.“Mama, I drawed you,” Sophie announced, pushing a crumpled sheet of
Unworthy No More Rebuilding Bridges
IslaBy the time I stumbled into my apartment, my feet were screaming in protest. I kicked off my heels the way a prisoner sheds shackles, wincing as the raw skin at my heels caught on the strap. Blisters. Deep ones. I hobbled to the bathroom, filled a basin with warm water, and lowered my feet in with a hiss that could have woken the dead. The sting made my eyes water, but the relief was immediate.It’s strange how pain can be grounding. Every throb reminded me of the long days I had survived, the courtroom, the tension, the way my pulse had pounded when the judge finally spoke those words: custody granted. My daughter was mine. No amount of swelling or skin rubbed raw could compete with that feeling.I leaned back against the wall, letting the warmth seep into me. My mind wandered, as it always did at night, to everything I had left behind and everything I still had to rebuild. My parents… after all those years, seeing them outside the courthouse had been like stepping into a photog
Unworthy No More The Fractures We Carry
Isla’s POVWhen we walked out of the courtroom, my mother was the first to move. She stepped forward with a shakiness that did not suit her usual steel-edged composure. Her mouth opened once, then closed again. I could feel the words balancing on the tip of her tongue, words unsaid for years.“I brought tea,” she finally said. Tea. Of all things. I blinked at the thermos in her hands, wrapped in a faded cloth like it might shatter if handled wrong. My arms were still wrapped around Sophie, her cheek warm against my neck. I was too stunned to speak. My father cleared his throat. “Your mother thought you’d be cold after the hearing.”I did not take the tea. Not right away. I just stared at them, these two people who had given me life, who had disappeared when I made choices they did not approve of. Who had left me to fight alone when I was nineteen, pregnant, and terrified.“I didn’t think you’d come,” I whispered. “We saw the video,” my mother said quietly, her voice almost brittle. “S
Unworthy No More The Verdict
Isla The day of the final custody hearing arrived with grey skies and tension so thick I could barely breathe. My palms were damp, my stomach coiled tight with anxiety. Sophie clutched my hand outside the courtroom, unaware of the battle about to unfold inside.Nathaniel was already seated at the plaintiff's table. He looked tired, the lines around his mouth deeper, his posture less arrogant than usual. Yet when his eyes met mine, something flickered...guilt? Regret? I did not have time to decipher it.The judge entered. Proceedings began. Nathaniel’s lawyer painted me as financially unstable, emotionally overwhelmed, and unequipped to provide Sophie with a “stable, supportive home environment.”My lawyer, a sharp but compassionate woman named Ms. Tarrant, countered with testimony from my employer, documentation of my stable job and rising performance, character witnesses from the neighborhood, and even notes from Sophie’s teacher, praising the child’s cheerful demeanor and emotional
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