Chapter 95 095
RYAN
For a few seconds after they left, the room didn’t just feel empty.
It felt wrong.
Like something had shifted in the air and forgotten to settle back into place.
The door had barely clicked shut behind Emily, but the silence it left behind wasn’t normal. It stretched. Pressed. Sat heavy on my chest in a way I couldn’t explain.
I stood there, staring at that same door like it might open again.
But it didn’t.
She was gone.
And the look on her face before she left—
I dragged a hand over my jaw, exhaling slowly.
“What the hell was that?” I muttered under my breath.
No one answered.
Because honestly… what answer could there even be?
A strange woman had walked into my hospital room, taken one look at Emily, and called Zara her granddaughter.
Granddaughter.
The word echoed in my head again, louder this time. Sharper.
Out of place.
My gaze dropped to the floor for a second before lifting back to the door.
Granddaughter meant one thing.
Parents.
Emily’s parents.
Except—
“No,” I muttered, shaking my head slightly. “That doesn’t make sense.”
Her parents were dead.
That wasn’t a maybe.
That was a fact.
Something she had lived with her entire life.
Something I had watched her carry.
So what the hell was that?
I turned slowly, my eyes landing on my mother.
If anyone had answers, it was her.
She hadn’t followed them out.
Hadn’t even tried.
Instead—
She was pacing.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
And not the calm, controlled pacing I was used to.
This was restless.
Uneven.
Her steps were quick, almost frantic, her hands pressed against her temples like she was trying to physically hold her thoughts in place.
My brows furrowed.
“Mum?”
No response.
It was like I hadn’t said anything at all.
“No… no, no, no…” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head slightly.
A cold feeling crept into my chest.
I straightened.
Something wasn’t right.
“Mum,” I said again, louder this time. “What is going on?”
She stopped.
But she didn’t look at me.
Her back was half-turned, shoulders tense, her entire body rigid in a way I had never seen before.
“It’s not possible,” she said quietly.
The words were not loud.
But I heard them.
And they didn’t sit right.
“What isn’t possible?” I asked, stepping closer. “Mum, you’re not making any sense.”
She let out a sharp breath, dragging her hands down her face like she was trying to wake herself up.
“This is not happening,” she said again, firmer now. “It can’t be.”
“Mum—”
“Ryan.”
Her voice cut through mine.
She turned then, and for the first time, I saw it clearly.
Fear.
Not irritation.
Not anger.
Fear.
Real, unfiltered fear.
And that… that shook me.
“Can you just—” she started, her voice rising before she caught herself. She pressed her lips together hard, inhaling through her nose. “Can you just keep your mouth shut for a second?”
The words hit harder than they should have.
I blinked.
Thrown.
She never spoke to me like that.
Not like this.
Not with that edge.
Not with that desperation.
“I’m just trying to understand—”
“I said give me a second,” she snapped, softer this time but no less tense.
I went quiet.
Because pushing her right now? That didn’t feel like a good idea.
She turned away again, pacing once more, her fingers tangling in her hair now.
“Damn it,” she muttered. “Damn it, damn it…”
She looked like she was trying to piece something together.
Or maybe trying to stop something from falling apart.
“Mum…” I said again, quieter now. “You’re scaring me.”
That made her pause.
Just for a second.
But she still didn’t turn around.
“She shouldn’t be here,” she said under her breath.
My stomach dropped.
“Who?” I asked immediately.
Silence.
Then—
“She was supposed to be gone,” she whispered.
My chest tightened.
“Gone where?” I pressed. “Mum, what are you talking about? How do you even know her?”
She shook her head quickly, like she’d already said too much.
“No,” she muttered. “No, this isn’t—this isn’t how it was supposed to happen.”
“What wasn’t?” I stepped closer. “What are you not telling me?”
She spun around suddenly, eyes sharp.
“I said stop!” she snapped.
The force of it made me freeze.
Her breathing was uneven, her chest rising and falling too fast.
For a second, neither of us spoke.
Then she looked away again, her expression tightening.
“This changes things,” she said, more to herself than to me.
“What changes?” I demanded.
Everything about this was spiraling too fast.
None of it made sense.
“That woman just walked in here and called my daughter’s child her granddaughter and you her long-lost friend," I continued, my voice rising slightly. “And you’re standing here acting like the world just ended. I need answers.”
She let out a shaky breath.
“You don’t understand,” she said.
“Then make me understand,” I shot back.
Another pause.
Another hesitation.
For a second, I thought maybe she’d actually tell me.
Maybe she’d finally explain what the hell was going on.
But then—
She shook her head again.
“No,” she said firmly. “Not here. Not like this.”
Frustration flared in my chest.
“Mum—”
But she was already moving.
Heading for the door.
Just like that.
She was gone too.
The silence that followed felt even heavier than before.
I stared at the door for a long second.
Then another.
Trying to decide if I should go after her.
Trying to decide if I even wanted to hear whatever it was she clearly didn’t want to say.
“Yeah…”
The voice came from behind me.
I turned.
Aaron.
I had completely forgotten he was still there.
He was leaning back slightly, one hand dragging down his face like he had just watched the same chaos unfold and didn’t have the energy to process it.
I let out a breath, running a hand through my hair.
“Do you know what the hell is happening?” I asked.
Aaron let out a dry chuckle.
“Man…” he muttered. “At this point? I don’t even know what day it is anymore.”
Despite everything, I almost laughed.
Almost.
“Seriously,” I said, looking at him. “Say something useful.”
He straightened slightly, exhaling.
“I don’t know everything,” he admitted. “But… I heard something.”
My attention sharpened instantly.
“What?”
He glanced toward the door, like he was making sure no one was about to walk back in.
Then he looked at me again.
“Morgan filled me in,” he said. “Briefly.”
My chest tightened.
“And?”
Aaron hesitated.
Just for a second.
Like he was choosing his words carefully.
Or bracing himself for my reaction.
“Apparently…” he started slowly, “Emily found her real parents.”
The words landed, and for a second, they didn’t make sense.
I blinked.
“What?”
He didn’t look away.
“That’s what I heard.”
I shook my head immediately.
“No,” I said, almost instinctively. “No, that’s not—her parents are dead. We’ve been over this. She grew up without them. There’s nothing to find.”
Aaron lifted a shoulder slightly. “That’s what I thought too.”
“Then what are you saying?” I pressed.
“I’m saying…” he exhaled. “Maybe what we thought wasn’t the whole truth.”
I stared at him.
My thoughts racing.
“That woman…” I said slowly. “She called Zara her granddaughter before leaving.”
“Yeah.”
“And Emily didn’t question it.”
Aaron nodded once. “Exactly.”
I ran a hand through my hair again, pacing now.
That was the part that didn’t sit right.
Emily questioned everything.
She didn’t just accept things.
She pushed.
She doubted.
She needed proof.
But not this time.
This time—
“She looked happy,” I said quietly.
Aaron watched me for a second before nodding.
“She did.”
I let out a humorless laugh.
“Of course she did,” I muttered. “Of course she finally gets something like that, and it’s… this.”
Aaron frowned slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I shook my head.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “It just—”
I stopped.
Because I didn’t even know how to explain it.
It felt like something had shifted.
Like the ground under everything I thought I understood had just… moved.
“Emily has parents,” I said finally. “Actual parents. After all this time.”
“Looks like it.”
I leaned back slightly, my chest tight.
Images flashed through my head—
Emily talking about growing up without them.
The way her voice used to change whenever the topic came up.
The quiet acceptance.
The unanswered questions.
And now—
This.
All at once.
Out of nowhere.
In the middle of everything else.
“Wow…” I breathed.
The word felt small.
Useless.
But it was all I had.
I shook my head slowly, letting out another breath.
“Everything just changed,” I said quietly.
Aaron didn’t respond immediately.
Then—
“Yeah,” he said. “It did.”
Silence settled again.
If Emily’s past wasn’t what I thought it was…
Then what else wasn’t?