Chapter 153

Elena's POV

I arrived at the school just as children began streaming out to meet their parents. I anxiously scanned the crowd for Max and Kathy, clutching the bakery boxes containing the promised treats I'd picked up on the way.

When I spotted them, my heart raced. They were being led by two men in dark suits—Richard's security team. One held Kathy's hand while the other walked beside Max.

"Max! Kathy!" I called out, hurrying toward them.

They immediately tensed, stepping between me and the children. "Ms. Winter," the taller one said firmly, "the children are coming with us."

"What? No!" I tried to move past him. "I promised I'd pick them up. I'm their mother!"

"Mr. Blackwood's orders," he replied coldly. "Please step aside."

Max spotted me and tried to run to me. "Mommy!"

The guard caught his arm, holding him back. I lunged forward, reaching for Max.

"Let go of my son!" I shouted.

Everything happened in a blur. As I rushed forward, one of the guards moved to intercept me. There was a collision, and I felt myself being shoved backward. I lost my balance, falling hard against the pavement. Pain shot through my leg and head as I hit the ground.

"Mommy!" Max screamed, breaking free from the guard and rushing to my side.

I touched my temple, feeling the warm stickiness of blood. My knee was scraped raw through my torn pants. But the physical pain was nothing compared to seeing the terror on my children's faces.

"Get away from her!" Max shouted at the guards, his small body trembling with anger.

Kathy came forward, her usually calm expression transformed by fury. She glared at the guards, her small hands clenched into fists.

"Slut!" she hissed through clenched teeth, the vulgar word shocking coming from such a young child.

The guards looked horrified, clearly not expecting this reaction from the children. They backed away slightly, uncertain how to proceed.

I pulled myself up to sitting, ignoring the throbbing pain. "I'm okay, babies," I assured them, trying to sound calm despite the situation. "It was just an accident."

Max helped me stand, his little face fierce with protective anger. "They pushed you, Mommy. They're bad men."

I brushed dirt from my clothes, wincing at the sting from my injuries. The bakery boxes lay smashed on the ground, their contents ruined. "It's okay, dear. I know they're just doing their job."

Kathy picked up a partially intact cookie from the ground, looking at it with profound disappointment.

"I'm sorry, Kathy, the cookies are ruined," I said, heartbroken at the sight. "I'll make them for you myself tomorrow, I promise."

"It's okay. Mommy, are you really alright? Let's go to the hospital."

Despite the pain, I forced a smile. "I'm fine, just a little scratch. But listen, both of you, I need to tell you something important."

I guided them to a nearby bench, away from the curious stares of other parents and children. Taking a deep breath, I searched for the right words.

"Kathy, Max... Mommy and Daddy are having some problems right now. Things that grown-ups need to solve. So I... I won't be able to live with you for a while."

"But you promised you wouldn't leave again!" Max said, tears welling in his eyes.

"I won't be leaving," I quickly assured him. "But your father and I need some time apart to figure things out."

Max hugged me tightly. "I don't want you to go. I want all of us to be together."

"I know, baby. I want that too." I held him close, meeting Kathy's gaze over his shoulder. "Just give Mommy a little time."

Just then, a black Bentley pulled up to the curb, its engine purring softly. The door opened, and my heart stuttered as a familiar figure emerged.

Richard.

His tall figure cut an imposing silhouette against the afternoon light. He wore a charcoal suit that seemed to absorb the sunlight around him, making him appear even more intimidating. His face was a mask of cold fury as he stalked toward us.

My heart hammered against my ribs. The children sensed the change in atmosphere immediately, pressing closer to me. Despite the blood trickling from the cut on my forehead, my protective instincts surged. I wrapped my arms around Max and Kathy, drawing them against me.

"Richard," I started, but he didn't even look at me.

"Get the children in the car," he ordered them, his voice like ice. "Now."

"Daddy, Mommy's hurt!" Max protested, clinging to my leg.

Richard noticed the blood, but showed no reaction. "The children. In the car."

I tightened my grip on them. "Richard, please. Let's not do this here. Not in front of the kids."

One of the bodyguards approached cautiously.

"Go away!" Max shouted.

Richard's jaw tightened. Without warning, he strode forward and physically lifted both children from my grasp. Max kicked and screamed, while Kathy struggled in his arms.

"I want my mommy! Put me down!" Max wailed, tears streaming down his face.

My heart shattered watching their distress. "Richard, stop this! You're frightening them!"

"I'm taking my children home," he said, passing them to the waiting guards who quickly secured them in the Bentley.

I rushed forward, desperation clawing at my throat. "Please, I know I was wrong. I shouldn't have said those things. I shouldn't have left."

Richard turned to me, his eyes revealing complex emotions. "Now you want to play the devoted mother? After you said you didn't want them, that they were all mine?"

His words cut through me like knives. Yes, I had said that—in the heat of our worst argument, when pain and anger had made me lash out. Words I'd regretted the moment they left my lips.

"I was angry and hurt," I pleaded, feeling dizzy as blood continued to trickle down my temple. "You know I love them more than anything."

"Love?" Richard's laugh was harsh. "If you loved them, you wouldn't have abandoned them."

I flinched, unable to deny the truth of his accusation. "If I could go back and change things, I would. I'd never say those words. I wouldn't leave."

Richard stepped closer, looming over me. "Would you? Then tell me, Elena, could you go back and forgive my father for what he did to you? Could you pretend Mandy's death never happened?" His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Some decisions can't be undone. Some words can't be taken back."

I stared at him, struck silent by the raw truth in his words. But he was right.

"You can't even forgive those things yourself," he continued, twisting the knife. "So what right do you have to ask it of others?"

He turned toward his car.

I watched helplessly as he slid into the Bentley. Through the windows, I could see the shapes of my children, their small hands pressed against the glass.

The car pulled away, leaving me standing alone on the sidewalk. I looked down at my palm, noticing the smear of blood there. My head throbbed, and suddenly the world tilted sideways.

My legs gave way, and I crumpled to the pavement like a marionette with cut strings. As darkness claimed me, I heard concerned voices and felt hands lifting me.

---

I was dreaming. I knew I was because I was a child again, holding my father's hand as we drove into Moonhaven for the first time. He pointed out landmarks—the gleaming buildings downtown, the sprawling parks, and finally, the mansion where we would live.

"This is our new home," he explained, his voice gentle.

I met Richard, that sullen-faced boy.

The dream shifted, blurring around the edges. There were gaps—memories I couldn't access. I saw myself being introduced to Cinda's family, my mother smiling as she said, "Cinda is your family too."

Then pain—a sharp, persistent ache that seemed to radiate from my chest outward.