Bonds

-Maya POV-Têxt belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. A million conflicting emotions warred within me: anger, resentment, guilt, fear, and an unexpected pang of grief.

She was more like a trophy wife to Daniel Stone but the fact still remained-she was my mother.

Natalia placed a comforting hand on my arm, her presence grounding me in the midst of the emotional maelstrom. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision, but I blinked them back, refusing to crumble.

"Where is she?" I demanded, my voice surprisingly steady.

He gave me the name of the hospital, and before I could even process the information, I was already pushing the call to end. Natalia helped me gather my things, moving with urgency yet understanding

"I'll watch the kids," she promised, her voice firm and reassuring. "Go, be with your mother."

I didn't need to be told twice. With a quick hug of gratitude, I rushed out, my mind racing, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

Would I get to say goodbye?

I slammed through the automatic hospital doors, the sterile scent assaulting my senses as I skidded to a stop at the reception desk. My breaths were coming in ragged gasps, adrenaline fueled by the phantom echo of my father's words.

"Hello," I choked out, forcing myself to calm down. "My mother was in an accident. She was brought here. Victoria Stone. I need to see her."

The nurse, a woman with an overly-tight smile and eyes that held no warmth, scanned my frantic state. "Room 101," she uttered, her tone clipped and dismissive.

I didn't bother registering her attitude. With a mumbled "thank you," I tore through the hallway.

Bursting into the ward, the scene that greeted me stopped me in my tracks. There, on a sofa, sat my mother, a magazine casually draped across her lap, as my father tapped away on his phone, the picture of nonchalance.

"What is going on here?" The words seemed to rip from my throat, raw and laced with disbelief. "You told me she was in an accident! How? What?"

My father finally looked up, his eyes devoid of any genuine concern "Amaya," he drawled, his voice flat and lacking warmth, "you're here."

"What the hell is going on?" I demanded, my voice rising in pitch. My eyes darted between them, searching for answers.

A flicker of apprehension crossed my mother's face and eyes met for a fleeting moment, and in that silent exchange, I saw a flash of apology, a flicker of the mother I remembered before the walls went up and the silence settled in But before I could read into it further, my father's voice cut through the tenso silence.

"Sign this," he said, thrusting a document in my direction.

"What?" I blinked, momentarily stunned by the abruptness of his demand.

"Do you really need me to repeat myself, Amaya?" His voice grew sharper, laced with irritation. "Take the document and sign it."

Anger surged through me, hot and potent. "Are you seriously kidding me right now? You seriously lied! To get me to come here?" I spat, finally piecing together the twisted puzzle.

My hands trembled as i accepted the paper, the starkness of the white contrasting the vivid red blooming on my skin. Anger simmared, threatening to boll over, but exhaustion weighed me down like a blanket stilling my rage.

"Why, Father?" My voice, barely a whisper, echoed in the sterile silence. "Why do you hate me so much?"

The question hung heavy in the air, a loaded accusation. I yearned to unleash the oriental frustration and hurt that had fostered within me for years, but something held me back. Perhaps it was the vulnerability flickering in my mother's eyes, or the raw pain simmering beneath my father's stoic facade.

But the silence stretched, suffocating and oppressive.

"What did I ever do to you?" My voice rose, each syllable laced with a tremor of disbelief and simmering anger. "Why do you despise me so?"

My mother's voice cut through the rising tension, a desperate plea. "Amaya, please, just sign it."

But the dam burst. Years of pent-up frustration poured out, fueled by the burning injustice of it all "No! m ve roamed the word echoing off the stark white walls. "Not until you tell me why! Why, Father? Is it because of Alex?"

The name hung in the air, charged with unspoken emotions. My mother's hand shot out, reaching for mine, her eyes begging me to stop. I ignored her, locked in a silent battle with my father.

"Is it because I chose him over you?" I pressed on, my voice cracking with raw emotion. "Is it because he's the father of my children? Is that why you hate me so much?"

My father remained silent, but the flicker of movement in his hand sent a jolt of apprehension through me. His Claws, retracted moments ago, emerged and a single drop of blood dripped down his clenched fist.

"Answer me!" I screamed, my voice echoing with desperation. "What did we ever do to you?"

My father raised his hand, the steely claws glinting in the stark light. He lunged, claws extended striking the wall "Because they took everything from me," he thundered, his voice filled with so much pain, "Because they took him away from me."

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