Semua Bab After My Last Breath: Bab 61 - Bab 68

[Elara]The fact that I’ve barely seen my parents in the past five years makes me wary of their invitation now.What do they want? Why would they suddenly invite me over? What is their purpose? And so on and on. Questions like these keep bugging me even after I pull the car into the driveway of the Graham mansion.I’ll be honest—I’m nervous. It has been five years, after all. I haven’t seen them. Not face-to-face. The only times they contacted me in the past were through calls and texts, and those were always to remind me of the projects they wanted Damon to invest in.But the reason they’ve invited me over today—making an exception—makes me wonder what this could really be about.I loosen my grip around the steering wheel, swallow my nervousness, and step out as slowly as possible.The moment I step inside the Graham mansion, I’m met with the same cold, eerie atmosphere that has always greeted me in the past. It reminds me of those days when coming home always felt like the least fav

[Elara] The door shuts behind me, and when I search for my bag—patting my side, hands fumbling for the strap—I realize I don’t have it on me. Shit. Where the hell did it go? I remember picking it up from the table. But then another realization dawns, and I end up sliding down the wall with my back to it. “They took my bag too.” They made sure I contacted no one until they were done with me. Tears stream down my face—not because I feel sad, but because I feel so damn helpless. How did it come to this? Why did I make the stupid mistake of even returning to the Graham mansion? This place had never been my sanctuary, my safe place. The only reason I ever even returned to this place was because I had nowhere else to go. But then I wipe my tears and let out a deep sigh. Perhaps this is all for the good. Maybe I needed this confrontation—to remind myself there’s literally no one here worth staying for. Once the divorce is finalized, Cora and I are leaving for good. This godforsa

He turns to Damon. “I’m sorry, son, for not raising my daughter properly. This is… this is all my fault.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. “Elara has always been money-minded. She pretends she doesn’t care, but money is the only thing she’s ever cared about. Even as a child, she demanded money as if it grew on trees. And we, as her parents, spoiled her far too much. We gave in too easily—never able to say no to any of her demands.”Are they even talking about me?It doesn’t matter, however, because Mom joins in quickly.“Exactly. We… we failed as parents, and that’s why we’re living through this disgrace today. We were too soft, too trusting. If we had been stricter—if we had corrected her selfish ways early on—this shame would never have come knocking at our door. We gave her too much freedom, too much leniency, and this is what it turned her into.”“No, Mom. How can you say something like that?” Hannah jumps in. Of course she does. She holds Mom by the shoulder

[Griffin]When I was eight, my cousins dragged me out of my room and locked me in the basement. They called it a game—something meant to be fun, something to laugh about later.It wasn’t fun for me. Not even close.It felt like being trapped inside a horror movie, one I desperately wanted to end.I still dream about it sometimes—the darkness, the scratching of rats, the sticky webs of spiders, lizards clinging to the walls, cockroaches skittering across the dusty floor.It wasn’t until the next morning, when I didn’t come down for breakfast, that our butler realized something was wrong. He searched for me in a panic, moving through the house with frantic urgency, knocking on doors, checking every corner, every dark space he could think of.By the time he found me, I was already unconscious, my pants soaked.When they asked me who had done it, I stayed silent—too afraid that if I spoke up, they would lock me in there again.A few weeks later, they did the same thing to one of our young