Unworthy No More のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

Alexander I remained in the car a few blocks away, windows rolled up against the morning chill, observing her as she stepped out of the modest office building. Isla Hart, though she did not know I remembered the name, moved with a quiet determination that made my chest tighten. Her dark hair caught the sunlight in streaks of copper as she adjusted the strap of her bag, checking the small notebook she clutched in one hand.It was a strange feeling, watching her like this. Fifteen years. Fifteen years I had searched, hoping to find the girl who had saved my life on that bitter day when everything I knew had collapsed into river water and pain. I could still see her small hands pulling me from the current, her young face streaked with dirt and worry, her voice scolding yet fierce: “I, Isla Hart, will not let you die. Don’t you dare close your eyes on me!” The same determination has stayed with her into adulthood.But then the call came from Lia, my

Alexander The city was already bustling with activity when I stepped into my office, but the world outside the floor-to-ceiling windows could have burned to ash and I would not have cared. My mind was still lingering at the gate of that rundown community where I had last seen her, Isla Hart, clutching Sophie’s tiny hand, rushing past me with that blend of defiance and grace only she carried. She had accepted the address I gave her, accepted the nudge I dared to extend without revealing too much. That was a victory in itself.I loosened my tie as I sat behind my desk, the leather chair sighing beneath me. I should have been thinking about quarterly reports, overseas investments, the acquisition waiting for my signature. Instead, I found myself replaying the flicker in Isla’s eyes as she looked at me last night, wary, reluctant, but not entirely closed off. She did not know that Horizon Outreach was tied to me. She did not know that every step she thought she was taking on her own was

IslaThe rumors grew legs. By the middle of the week, I could not walk into the boutique without feeling the prickling weight of stares. I would d catch my coworkers whispering in hushed tones near the register or see customers glance at me sideways as if I carried a secret they were desperate to uncover. No one said Alexander’s name outright, of course they did not. He was untouchable, a man people did not dare drag through the mud. Instead, the poison was aimed squarely at me, painted in vague, slippery words, “inappropriate company,” “a man’s mistress,” “a questionable lifestyle.”I wanted to scream that I was not any of those things. That I was just a mother trying to raise her daughter and keep her head above water. But shouting the truth into a crowd that had already chosen its story rarely changed anything. So, I kept my chin up, my voice steady, and poured myself into my work. But inside, every whisper cut deeper than I wanted to admit.

Alexander From the privacy of my car, I watched her leave the Horizon Outreach building. Her pace was brisk, her tote bag pulled high on her shoulder, and though her frame looked small against the stream of pedestrians, she carried herself differently now. Straighter. Lighter.Four months ago, she had been a ghost of herself, drenched, trembling, holding a child and two suitcases on a rainy night. Now, Isla Hart had the faint glow of a woman reclaiming her rhythm. And it made me smile in a way few things could. “Keep a little distance,” I murmured to my driver. “Yes, sir.”She did not notice the black sedan shadowing her down the street. She never did. That was one thing I had learned quickly, Isla was too busy surviving to notice when someone was protecting her from a distance.When she reached Sophie’s daycare, her shoulders softened. She bent down as the little girl came barreling into her arms, and the smile that spread across

IslaStepping outside the bank, I felt as if the air was unusually thinner than it should have, as though Mrs. Blake had stolen all the oxygen with her sneer. My hands still trembled as I walked down the street, folder pressed against my chest. “Don’t think for a second we won’t revisit custody.”Her words clung to me like smoke. For a moment, panic threatened to claw its way through my ribs. I pictured Sophie’s small hand in mine, her yellow ribbons bouncing as she skipped, and my chest seized. No.I forced myself to stop on the corner, close my eyes, and breathe. One slow inhale. One firm exhale. Mrs. Blake had been terrorizing me for years, but this time, I wasn’t the same woman who had once cowered in her house, too afraid to raise her voice. I was different now.That evening, Sophie climbed into my lap as soon as we got home. “You look tired, Mommy.” I smoothed her curls, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I just had a long day, s