บททั้งหมดของ Unworthy No More : บทที่ 21 - บทที่ 30

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

Isla’s POVThe alarm buzzed faintly from the nightstand, but before I could even roll over to silence it, a small, warm hand patted at my arm. “Mommy, wake up. It’s morning.”Sophie’s voice carried more authority than any alarm clock. Her brown eyes, wide and unyielding, left no room for negotiation. I groaned softly, but a smile tugged at my lips anyway. Leaning over, I pressed a kiss against her forehead. “Alright, my little general,” I murmured, sitting up.For the first time in what felt like forever, I did not feel the familiar heaviness that usually pressed down on my chest the moment I opened my eyes. I was tired, of course, I was always tired, but beneath that fatigue there was a flicker of something else. A thin thread of energy, fragile but real. Hope, maybe.I padded into the kitchen, tying my hair into a messy knot as the kettle whistled. The apartment was still dim and quiet, save for Sophie humming softly in the other room. I brewed a pot of tea and set my mug down besid

Alexander LangstonI watched her disappear into the narrow streets of the community, the worn concrete and rusted gates swallowing her slight frame almost immediately. The late afternoon sun was beginning its slow descent, painting the sky with streaks of gold and copper, but the light did little to soften the rough edges of the place. And yet, as always, she moved with a natural grace that made the run-down surroundings feel almost irrelevant. Isla Hart. I allowed myself a small, almost imperceptible smile. She did not notice me, not really, but that had never mattered. She never would. Not yet.I thought back to that night four months ago, the memory as vivid as if it were happening now. The rain had been relentless, hammering the city streets with an unyielding rhythm. I had just arrived from out of town, my driver maneuvering through the slick asphalt with the precision I expected. My mind was occupied with schedules, board meetings, and contracts. Life moved fast, as it always d

AlexanderI watched from the corner of the street, leaning against the hood of the car. Isla’s sneakers scuffed against the uneven pavement as she jogged toward the rundown community where she lived. Her hair caught in the breeze, slightly disheveled, but there was an unmistakable determination in the way she moved. Every time I saw her, I was reminded of the first impression she had left on me, fifteen years ago.It had been the rainy season, the streets slick and treacherous. I had been fourteen, terrified, battered from a brutal abduction that had ended with me being thrown into the river. My body had ached, my limbs heavy, and my lungs burned as I fought to keep afloat. Every instinct screamed to surrender, but then I felt hands grip me and pull me up.I gasped as I remembered her voice, ringing clear and furious, cutting through the torrential downpour. “I, Isla Hart, will not let you die! Don’t you dare close your eyes on me!”Her small, determined frame had disregarded her own

Isla The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain lingering from the night before. Sophie had already been dropped off at daycare, waving enthusiastically at me before scampering inside. I felt a twinge of separation pangs, but I reminded myself, this was for both of us. Every step I took to reclaim my career was a step toward securing her future.I parked my car near the small, understated building where Horizon Outreach was located, a non-profit specializing in community programs. The address Alexander had provided had led me here, and despite myself, I was grateful. Grateful and nervous.Smoothing my blazer and adjusting the strap of my bag, I took a deep breath before stepping inside. The receptionist, a young woman with a warm smile, greeted me. “You must be Isla Hart? Mark is expecting you.” I nodded, trying to steady my heartbeat. “Yes, thank you.”While waiting, I found a quiet corner and went over my resume once