Lahat ng Kabanata ng RECKLESS DESIRES: THE ODEN LEGACY : Kabanata 101 - Kabanata 110

"I discovered something," Luke said, the envelope loosely held in his palm.Mrs. Oden didn’t lift her gaze from her tea. Her aged hands, draped in gold rings, trembled slightly as she stirred honey into the bubbling cup. The spoon clinked softly against porcelain, the only sound in the sunny breakfast nook where light danced on ivory tiles."Where?" she asked, finally glancing at him.“In one of the drawers in the old desk in Jackson’s office. Buried under financials. Looks like it was forgotten there.”Her expression didn’t flicker. “What is it?”Luke stared down at the yellowed envelope. The ink had faded, but the handwriting was unmistakably hers.“To me?” she asked.Luke nodded. “It’s got your name on it. But I hadn’t seen it before. Not once.”Mrs. Oden reached out for the envelope, but Luke instinctively pulled it back. “You didn’t put it there, did you?”“No,” she said quietly. “It must’ve… slipped through the cracks. Or maybe Jackson—” Her voice trailed off, her hand returning

"Sorry," Stacy replied, voice calm and firm.The community center had a small crowd—survivors, volunteers, and contributors from both The Bloom Initiative and from local support groups. Banners read Healing Without Judgment and New Beginnings. Stacy stood at a plain podium, hands clasped as in prayer.Amiriam sat in the front row beside Luke and James. The air was thick. Too quiet. James, too, shifted beside her.Stacy breathed slowly, looking around the room. "I've spent three years rebuilding. Strengthening women, learning accountability. I know I don't deserve it. But I deserve to be heard. To face what I broke."She waited, letting the words hang in the room."I hurt people. Some of you were collateral damage. I never intended to, but I did. I apologize." Amiriam's gut twisted. The apology sounded practiced—written. But the atmosphere in the room shifted. Some women wiped tears. A few clapped. Luke kept his silence, jaw set.Stacy continued: "I'm collaborating with a trauma group

"I know who leaked it," Victor said, voice low, even, and too calm for the storm he was about to unleash.Amiriam looked up from the scattered printouts on her desk. Luke, beside her, sat up straight immediately, tension coiling up his spine. The gentle hum of the retreat house fell away under Victor's words, as if the world knew something cataclysmic had just shattered."Who?" Amiriam demanded, voice barely steady.Victor leaned in, placing a closed folder on the table between them. His eyes never left hers. "Tasha Rivers."Amiriam's eyes widened. The name didn't register at first. "Tasha?" she breathed. "You mean—Tasha in admin? The same Tasha who did all the Bloom Initiative survivor contacts? The same Tasha who cried the day that survivor talked to us about her father?"Victor didn't flinch. "The same."Luke cursed under his breath, standing up to pace, his fists clenched. Amiriam's hand trembled a bit as she opened the folder and looked at the screenshots inside. Emails, message

"Is that all you’re going to say, Jackson?” Luke’s voice was sharp, arms crossed as he leaned against the sterile white wall of the hospital room. “You knew about Stacy. You’ve been watching her for years?”Jackson Oden stirred out of the bed, pale and sleepy, IV line taped to the back of his rumpled hand. He yawned and looked more aged now—more aged than he ever permitted himself to look. His eyes fell on Luke's, sunken but still unyielding. "I didn't claim to know everything. I claimed—I hired Langston. Years ago."Amiriam huddled by the window, her arms wrapped tightly around her chest. Inside the hospital room, the air hung heavy, the fluorescent lights above them flashing as if they shared their doubts too.Rita sat in a chair next to the bed, lips pursed, exchanging quiet looks with Christiana, who stood frozen behind her. James had just been ushered from the room by Richard and Zack. Thank God. He didn't have to listen to any of this.Luke stepped forward. "Why? Why bring in so

"Do you love him more than me?" James asked, his small voice trembling as he showed Amiriam the dog-eared drawing he had drawn—three stick figures beneath a crooked sun: him, Amiriam, and Luke. His big brown eyes searched Amiriam's face for an answer he was not old enough to understand, but too hardy to keep silent.Amiriam slowly knelt down before him, her heart racing against the cage of her chest as if it was trying to burst out. "Oh, sweetheart," she sighed, gently stroking his curls back. "There's no one I adore more than you.""But you're crying." James gestured, pouting lips, confusion etched in every line of his little body. "Did I do something wrong?"Luke braced himself in the doorway, arms crossed but expression unreadable. He'd heard enough in the kitchen. Each phrase James uttered had struck something raw in him—something he couldn't define, but couldn't ignore.Amiriam enveloped James in a hug. "You didn't do anything wrong. Sometimes… grown-ups get scared too."James cl