CHAPTER 6

Karen's (Rory's Mother) POV

We had been standing outside the mall for about thirty minutes now, and Rory still hadn't shown up.

I tapped my foot anxiously against the pavement, my arms crossed tightly over my chest. I glanced at the mall entrance for what felt like the hundredth time. Where was that girl? She wasn't usually this slow.

Anna let out an exaggerated sigh, barely looking up from her phone. "Mom, don't you think we should go check on her? That girl is too slow and clumsy—maybe she got lost or something." Her voice dripped with impatience, her thumbs still tapping against the screen as she scrolled through whatever was holding her attention.

I frowned, torn between worry and frustration. Rory was always a little absentminded, but she wasn't careless. "Okay, I'll go check, but you girls wait here," I finally decided. "I don't want all of us wandering off in different directions."

Anna just shrugged, barely acknowledging my words. River, my youngest, stood silently beside her, staring off into space, lost in her own thoughts.

As I stepped into the mall, an uneasy feeling settled deep in my chest.

Something didn't feel right.

Rory had always felt like a daughter to me, but the truth was, she wasn't mine. Not by blood. And no matter how much I loved her, no matter how hard I tried to make her feel at home, I knew she always felt… different.

Sixteen years ago, on a cold winter night, everything changed.

It was late, well past midnight, when a woman appeared at our doorstep. She was striking—blonde hair that cascaded in perfect waves, sharp, watchful eyes, and an almost unnatural stillness to her movements. She couldn't have been more than twenty-two or twenty-three, but something about her presence made her seem far older.

Cradled in her arms was a baby.

"She's not safe with me," the woman had said, her voice urgent, her knuckles white as she clutched the child. "Please, take care of her. I'll come back for her soon."

I still remember the way Patrick had stiffened beside me, his businessman instincts kicking in. "We can't just take in someone else's child," he had argued.

Anna and River, only six and seven at the time, peeked from behind the doorway, watching curiously. They were too young to understand what was happening.

But I had looked down at the baby in the woman's arms—so small, so helpless—and I knew I couldn't turn her away.

"We'll keep her safe," I had promised.

Except 'soon' never came.

Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months. Months into years. And Rory grew up in our home.

Anna and River never truly accepted her. They weren't cruel, but they kept her at arm's length, as if they sensed she was different. It wasn't outright hostility, but the exclusion was enough. I saw the sadness in Rory's eyes when they whispered secrets without her, when they played together and left her behind. I tried to make up for it, to give her as much love as I could, but I knew it wasn't enough.

And Patrick…

He tolerated Rory. Nothing more. His job kept him busy, but even when he was home, his distance was obvious. He never bonded with her the way he did with Anna and River.

"Tell her the truth," he had told me one night, years ago. "She's not ours, Karen. She deserves to know."

But I couldn't.

How do you look at a child you've raised and tell them they don't belong?

So, Rory grew up in our home, but she never truly had a family.

Then there were the nightmares.

She came to me so many times, whispering about the strange dreams she kept having—dreams of wolves, of glowing eyes watching her in the darkness. She was afraid, but I had brushed it off, telling her it was nothing. That she was just imagining things. That maybe she was watching too many horror movies.

But deep down, I had always wondered.

And now, here I was, walking through the mall, my stomach twisting with a feeling I couldn't shake.

Something was wrong.

I reached the restrooms and hesitated outside the door. The uneasy feeling intensified, curling around me like an icy grip.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside.

And then I froze.

Standing before me, smirking as if she had been expecting me, was the same woman who had left Rory with us all those years ago.

The blonde woman.

She hadn't aged a day.

Her golden hair fell in perfect waves, her piercing eyes glinting with something unreadable. Time had not touched her. Not a single wrinkle lined her flawless face.

A chill ran through me.

"I've been waiting for you, Karen," she said smoothly, her voice almost amused.

My breath caught in my throat.

How did she know my name?

I had never told her.

I shook off the thought and swallowed hard. "W-What are you doing here?" My voice was barely above a whisper.

She stepped forward, her smirk never fading. "You kept her safe. Just like I asked."

I stiffened. "Where's Rory?"

The woman chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. "She's where she belongs."

My stomach twisted. "What does that mean?"

The smirk deepened. "Come on, Karen. You didn't think she was meant to stay with you forever, did you?"

Anger bubbled up inside me. "She's my daughter."

The woman tilted her head. "Is she?"

The words hit like a slap.

I had raised Rory. I had held her when she cried, comforted her when she was afraid, watched her grow into the young woman she was today. She might not have been mine by blood, but she was mine in every other way that mattered.

And now, this woman had the audacity to show up and act like none of it meant anything?

I took a shaky breath. "I don't know who you are or what you want, but you can't just waltz in here and take her away."

The woman's smile widened. "Oh, Karen. You don't have a choice," she said, tossing something toward me.

I caught it instinctively, my fingers trembling as I unfolded it.

A check.

My breath hitched when I saw the amount written on it.

One hundred million dollars.

Cold, hard proof that she believed Rory was something that could be bought.

I crumpled the check in my fist. "You think you can just buy her back?" I hissed.

The air around us shifted.

A strange energy crackled in the space between us, something ancient, something powerful. My skin prickled, a deep, primal fear clawing at my chest.

My breath came in short gasps.

What was she?

The woman leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"It's time for Rory to remember who she is."

And with that, the lights flickered. The temperature in the room plummeted, and a suffocating sense of dread wrapped around me like a thick fog.

Something was very, very wrong.

And for the first time in sixteen years, I realised…

I had no idea who—or what—Rory really was.