CHAPTER 11

SYDNEY

Knock!

I waited silently behind the door.

Knock!

Still no sound.

Knock!

After the third knock, the maid used a key to open the door. She walked toward my bedside stand to collect my tray, and under the cover of darkness, I slipped out the door.

I wandered through the dimly lit hallways as quietly as my clumsy feet would allow me. A few turns later, I stumbled upon an office and decided to go in. And there it was—my phone—sitting on a mahogany desk. I hadn't even realized it was missing. I instinctively patted myself down, expecting to find an empty jean pocket where it should have been. That's when it hit me: I wasn't even in my own clothes. I quickly put the phone in a pocket I didn't know it was there.

A long mirror stood in the corner. I turned to it, wincing at my disheveled appearance before finally taking in the silk gown draping over me.

Blue. My favorite color.

The sight stirred more questions than answers. My mind swirled with confusion, but one thing was certain—I needed to find out what was going on.

I slipped back into the hallway, wandering aimlessly in search of answers. After the third right turn—or was it a left? —I realized I was officially lost.

I quickened my pace, trying to stay calm, but every turn led to another unfamiliar hallway. The silence was unbearable. My breaths came fast and shallow. I took another left, then a right, and was about to ascend another set of stairs when I heard voices approaching.

A woman's voice—sharp, filled with barely restrained emotion—came from just ahead.

I darted behind a heavy curtain, pressing myself against the cold wall, trying to steady my breath.

Don't move. Don't make a sound.

The voices grew clearer.

"No! I can't do this anymore! We can't do this anymore! Gabriel, can't you see? You're ripping this family apart! And for what? Her?! Is she really all you care about? You have Jason, you have Janet, you have Jane. You have me! Isn't that enough!?"

She sounded like she could break at any moment.

"Tessa, please don't. You know I'm doing this for Jason."

"You liar." Her voice trembled. "Why do you keep saying that? Jason doesn't need her—he needs you. And yet, she's here. Why? Just admit it. You want her here. Have you even thought about the fact that she's in Tenebris? That she's just like her mother? Are you trying to get us all killed? Wasn't your last involvement with them enough for you, Gabriel?"

"That's not true. She doesn't know anything about anything," he replied, quieter now.

"Then why did you carry a knife with you?" she demanded. "Oh, you think I didn't see? You thought she was one of them. You knew if she was, you'd already be dead. Or in a cell, being interrogated by Agatha."

"Stop it," he said, his voice tightening.

"No, Gabriel. I won't. She stabbed you! Gabriel, what kind of fifteen-year-old stabs a full-grown man—her father, no less?"

I inhaled sharply. Her father?

"She was confused. Her head's been filled with lies about me—about us. You need to understand, Tess."

"Understand what? Your flimsy excuse that she's what Jason needs to stabilize again? You do know you caused all this, right? He's scared, Gabriel. Scared that at any moment, you'll walk away again. That you don't love him."

"I do," Gabriel said, his voice raw. "I love him with everything in me. That's why she's here, Tessa. That's why I brought her here."

"Gabriel, stop this madness. She can't do anything for him." A heavy silence hung between them before Tessa spoke again, her voice quieter now. "Have you checked her?"

"Checked what?"

"This."

Through the curtain's gap, I could barely make out their silhouettes. She grabbed his wrist, holding it up to him. A breeze shifted the curtain slightly, revealing his arm. The moment the fabric moved, my stomach dropped.

Inked along the veins of his wrist was a tattoo—a gold and black 'T' with a dagger forming its base. My breath caught in my throat.

Tenebris.

I knew that symbol. I had seen it before.

And not just once.

It was on my mother's paperwork. Her documents. The files in her home office. The symbol on the laptop she never let me touch.

Everything inside me went still.

I didn't know what my mother did for a living. I didn't even know what she was.

For fifteen years, I had never questioned it. But now—standing there, heart hammering in my chest—I realized I had no idea who my mother really was. Who was Agatha?

"Have you?!" Tessa pressed.

"I haven't had time," Gabriel admitted.

"You're lying again. She's been here for a week. A week of me hiding her from Jason. What would I say if he saw her here? Huh?" Her voice turned sharp. "You haven't checked her because you don't want to. Because you don't know what you'll do if she has it too—if she's actually one of them. Because you love her. Because you still love her."

She took a shaky breath. "It started with you saying you'd leave Agatha. I believed you. And then we had Jason, and I trusted you completely. But then she came into the picture. And when you should have left, when I warned you not to get attached, you did just that. You gave that girl your life. You could have died that day, but you didn't care. Not about yourself, not about me, not about Jasonor Janet or Jane, who didn't even know what was going on."

Her voice softened, pained. "I have three kids by two men I will forever love. Two by a man who was taken from me because of them. And one by you. And I don't want you both to live the same fate. Gabriel, please."

"She is my family," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I didn't bring her here because of me or you—I brought her here because of Jason. He needs her."

"Drugs and therapy couldn't help him, and you think she will? That witch? She's the reason he relapsed! None of this would have happened if you had just kept your word and stayed away from Agatha. If you had left when you said you would. If you had never gone through with that operation—"

"And what? Let her wither away and die?" Gabriel snapped. "She is my daughter! And I'm willing to try anything to save my son."

"You should be ashamed of yourself," Tessa whispered before walking away, her footsteps fading into the night.

The curtain moved slightly, and my breath caught in my throat. For a split second, I expected to see my father—Gabriel, the man who had abandoned me but stood here defending me from allegations I didn't understand. But instead, the person who stepped into view made my stomach twist.

Tessa.

Jason's mother.

For a moment, I was frozen. I had met Tessa before. She had hugged me, complimented me, made me feel—if only for a fleeting moment—like I mattered. I had admired the warmth she gave Jason, had longed for it, had resented my mother for never giving me the same. That day, I had wanted so badly to see her again, to soak in whatever kindness she was willing to share.

Had she known all along? Did she know who I was when she hugged me, when she called me beautiful when she made me feel wanted? And if she did, why had she acted like she cared? Why would she be so kind to me then, only to stand here now, talking in hushed, secretive tones, wishing me dead?

My chest tightened as the realization hit me. She didn't care. Not really. The warmth I had felt that day was an illusion, a lie wrapped in kindness. She had made me believe, even for a moment, that I could have a mother figure who actually saw me, who actually wanted me.

But if she cared, why was she hiding here with my father? Why wasn't she on my side? Did he know she had met me? Had they talked about me before? Had I just been some sort of game to her—something to pity, something to entertain herself with before going back to her real family, to Jason?

A lump rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down. I refused to cry. Not here, not now. But the bitterness inside me spread like wildfire. I had wanted to believe in her, to believe that she had been genuine, but I should have known better.

People like me didn't get mothers like her.

For a few moments, Gabriel just stood there, pacing. Then he left, too, disappearing down the corridor.

I remained hidden, frozen in place. My heart pounded so loudly that it drowned out the silence around me.

One thought repeated in my mind, over and over again, trumping every other question:

He loved me the entire time. My dad loves me.