Semua Bab Dealing With The Other Brother.: Bab 111 - Bab 120

~Sara~Her fork pauses halfway to her mouth.Slowly, she lowers it.Her eyes drop to the plate.“I really am a terrible daughter,” she murmurs.Her gaze flickers, then she forces a smile. “I’ll make time tomorrow. Definitely.”I snort. “You better.”Sandra clears her throat loudly. “So who taught you baking?”Rachel perks up. “A woman online named Brenda and the grace of God.”“The grace of God left halfway through,” I say.Sandra nearly chokes laughing.Rachel throws a napkin at me.And somehow, against all logic, the night keeps going.~~~My eyes snap open.Darkness.I squint my eyes at the faint red glow from the digital clock on top of my dresser cuts through the room.2:30 AM.Good.I turn my head to the left.Sandra is sprawled across the bed like a fallen warrior, one leg hanging off the mattress, mouth slightly open. Her snores rumble through the room in aggressive intervals, like she’s personally fighting someone in her dreams.I slowly turn to the right.Rachel sleeps on he

~Sara~I crumple the photograph so hard it cuts into my palm.I knew they were going to come at me hard, but this... I crush the picture tighter... this is low. Even for them.Around me, the lobby explodes into chaos.Staff members scramble across the floor, grabbing scattered photos. Reporters shove against security, forcing their way inside. The televisions mounted on the walls scream breaking news, painting me as some twisted monster who enjoys ruining lives.Jason lunges forward and snatches one of the photos off the ground. He stares at it.His eyes widen. Then they snap to me.My lips press into a thin line.He, Mira, and Sandra aren’t in the picture.Those manipulative bitches edited them out and left only me.“Sara Jane!” a reporter shrieks, shoving a microphone in my face as they break past security and flood the room. “Did you kidnap Linda Monroe?”“Was Isabelle Monroe framed?” another yells.“Where was this taken?”“Were you holding her hostage for ten years?”“Did jealousy

~Sara~"I... I don't know..." Celine mutters, eyes flickering as she stumbles back. "She might have done that to get Alex's attention. Pose as the hero who saved Linda.""And yet," Sandra cuts in, stepping forward like she’s ready to bulldoze through every lie in the room, "all four of us were kidnapped.""If Sara masterminded Linda's kidnapping," Sandra continues, louder now, turning in a slow circle so everyone hears her, "why kidnap us and herself too? Alex found all four of us tied up in that basement. And let’s not forget..."She crosses her arms, chin lifting toward Linda with open disdain. "Linda wasn’t tied up. She was standing beside Isabelle Monroe the whole time."Murmurs tear through the crowd."Well… she could’ve kidnapped you all to appear innocent," someone mutters from the back."Yes!" another voice jumps in quickly. "Throw everyone off her scent!"Sandra groans like she’s physically in pain. "God, are you people actually hearing yourselves?""You know what?" She lifts

~Nyx~Nine hours earlier...I tuck my hands deeper into my coat, shoulders slightly hunched as I stand on the veranda overlooking the lake.It’s one of those places people romanticize.Wooden rails. Soft lights lining the edges. The quiet ripple of water stretching endlessly into darkness.During the day, couples lean here, laughing softly, tossing coins, making wishes like the world is kind enough to grant them.At night?It feels… colder.I stare into the black surface of the water, watching the faint shimmer of light distort with every ripple.“Why am I even here…” I mutter under my breath, exhaling a cloud of mist.This better be worth my time.Because if she dragged me out in the middle of the night for something stupid, I swear I will—Footsteps approach from behind.I pause.I don’t turn immediately. I let whoever the hell it is come closer, let the silence stretch just enough to be uncomfortable.Then I pivot.And there she is.Sara. Jane.I smirk instantly, tilting my head as

~Sara~The ambulance screech to a halt.The back doors swing open, and the paramedics hurries out the vehicle.“Move, move!”They pull the stretcher out quickly, and I stumble out after them, nearly losing my balance before forcing myself to keep up.“He’s critical—prep the operating room!”“Call the surgeon now!”The hospital lights are blinding as we rush inside. The smell of antiseptic hits me immediately.I run alongside them, my steps uneven as I try to keep pace.“Is he going to be okay?” I ask, my voice breaking despite my effort to stay composed. “Please, just tell me he’s going to be okay.”No one answers me.They don’t even look at me.I reach out instinctively, my fingers brushing the edge of the stretcher before I pull back again, afraid of what I might feel.Don’t die.Please don’t die.Just then, Sandra and Alex burst in. They rush toward me without hesitation. Sandra reaches me first, grabbing my arms firmly.“Sara, how is he?” she asks.I try to speak, but my throat fe