All Chapters of Ripples And Hills: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Eveliina Hayward.Sunday. 29th June. Next day.I’m having breakfast with my husband. The quiet between us is broken only by the sweet chatter of our two-year-old daughter, Irene. She babbles about everything. Her toy horse, her cereal, the color of her spoon. And I listen, I smile, but I’m not really here. I'm in the hospital. Grandma. She looks so much like my grandmother. And like her father. Her real father. My throat tightens. The resemblance brings both comfort and ache. Comfort, because she looks like grandma. Ache, because Grandma still lies unconscious in a hospital bed and because Irene is growing more like her real dad. The face. I banish the memory. We’re heading to the hospital after breakfast. I need to eat, focus on that. But right now, the food sits untouched on my plate.“Why aren’t you eating?” Jace asks gently.I look up at him. A small, strained smile forms on my lips. He studies me, his tone even softer when he says, “You know you need to eat… for the baby.” No

Pier.Tuesday, 1st July. Next day. Evening.It’s 6 p.m. I’m in my New York apartment, my office, specifically, reviewing projections Helia just sent over. The proposal for the affiliate program looks promising. I’m glad he sees the value in it too. Once the documents are drawn, I’ll be done here. Then I can return to Prudence.I miss her. Terribly.I picked up a few things for her. Chocolates from Barneys, a little taste of the city. Her file says she’s from San Francisco, but there’s little else on her past. Just “Martha” listed under employment. No family. Nothing personal. I need to know more. Maybe tonight, at dinner with the Ripples, I’ll bring her up. Maybe Helia knows something.Two hours later, we’re seated. Helia, Hulio, and me. Helia’s talking about the proposal, about how great it’ll be for Grevelstokes and Blackwood College. I should be listening, but my attention’s on Hulio. He’s glued to his phone, barely present. Every now and then, he catches me watching him. But says

Alexa (Prudence)I stare at Pier, unblinking. My words replay in my head. We just stare at each other.“You just spoke of your family members in the present,” he says, voice cold, cautious. “But your file states you’re an orphan.”My breath catches. I just stare. “You just talked about having Barney’s Chocolates fresh from the store every morning. But how can you, when you’re from San Francisco and Barney’s is exclusive to New York?”Hearing him say that, the air leaves my lungs all at once. I try to speak, but nothing comes out. We stare at each other in silence, and suddenly, it’s suffocating.“Talk, Prudence. Are you, or are you not, an orphan?” His voice rises.I stay quiet. He palms his face, turns away, hands on his neck. When he turns back, his eyes are hard.“By any chance, are you from San Francisco?” He asks again.I try. I really do. But I can’t bring myself to answer. There’s too much at stake. If I tell him the truth, that I’m Alexa, what if he believes I did it? That I

Helia.I stare at her. Alexa.Her hair is shorter now, a quiet bob framing her sharp face. Her altered face. She’s changed. More refined. More poised. Her eyes, icy as ever. The scar, unmistakable, does more to highlight her beauty than mar it.But I know it’s her. Not just from the photo of her that I received. No. I’d know her anywhere. Because she still has that look unique to only her. Innocent look. I remember the first night we collided. The Hills’ Christmas gala. The overturned dessert table. Her chocolate-stained dress. Her wide, frightened eyes. Icy, just like now.“Helia…” She breathes. “What are you doing here?”Her voice is different now. Deeper. Measured. No longer the trembling girl from two years ago. She’s grown into a woman. A beautiful one. Not that she wasn’t before. I saw her beauty even then in the interrogation room, when I handed her the fake papers. In the car, when I drove her away.But my heart back then was hardened. Weighed down by duty. By guilt. B

Helia.Standing in the doorway, listening to Alexa talk about Pier, something twists inside me. I feel her pain. Her sadness. But I’m bound. By duty, by friendship, by loyalty, to do her grandmother’s bidding. Not just because Elviira is my client. Because she’s become dear to me. A dear friend.I inhale slowly and step forward into the cold air. At the sound of my approaching footsteps, both women turn. Alexa frowns slightly. Martha gives a small nod and walks away, leaving us alone.I stand beside her in silence. The energy between us is charged, bristling with her anger. And she has every right to be angry. I would be angry with me as well.“Pier doesn’t hate you,” I say quietly.The words taste like ash. But I say them for her sake. To soothe her. She’s hurting.“How do you know that?” She asks, voice thin.I don’t answer right away. I weigh whether she’s ready for the truth. The raw truth. About men. About relationships. About love.Like I had to learn about Ashley.I haven’t cal