Chapter 22
Kayna’s POV
The hospital room smelled faintly of antiseptic and lemon polish. The rhythmic beeping of the monitors had already imprinted itself on my mind, a lullaby I never wanted but couldn’t escape.
I sat by my mother’s bed, chin resting in my palm with tired eyes, staring at her fragile figure. Her skin seemed paler under the white sheets, her breathing shallow but steady.
I hated seeing her here. Hated feeling powerless.
Mateo’s words from yesterday replayed over and over: She kept letters from Dad. She never told you, but I saw one once.
Letters. Hidden letters.
The thought hunted me, building into a pressure I couldn’t contain. If my mother knew more about Dad, about what he’d really done then she’d been keeping me in the dark for years. And maybe, just maybe, those secrets were the missing pieces I needed to understand why life had never stopped feeling unstable, even after he’d been locked away.
I reached for her hand, squeezing gently. “Mom?”
Her eyelids fluttered open, her eyes glassy but sharp as they landed on me. “Kayna.”
“Hi.” I forced a smile. “How are you feeling?”
She sighed. “Like I’m chained to this bed when there’s work to be done at home. Don’t fuss.”
“I’ll fuss all I want,” I murmured, brushing my thumb over her knuckles. Then, with my pulse climbing, I asked, “Mom… can I ask you something?”
Her gaze narrowed slightly. “What is it?”
I swallowed hard. “Mateo told me…About the letters.”
Her whole body stiffened, her fingers twitching in mine before she pulled her hand back.
I leaned forward. “You kept them, didn’t you? Letters from Dad. Why?”
“Kayna—”
“Don’t ‘Kayna’ me.” My voice cracked sharper than I meant, years of bottled resentment spilling out. “All my life I’ve had to carry his shadow. You never explained. You just let me believe he was some washed-up criminal rotting away. But there’s more, isn’t there?”
Her chest rose and fell heavily. For a moment, she said nothing, her lips pressed thin. Then she whispered, “You shouldn’t go looking for what’s better left buried.”
“That’s not good enough.” I shot to my feet, pacing the small space at the foot of her bed. “I’ve been walking around blind for years while you and Mateo hold pieces of a puzzle I don’t even understand. Don’t I deserve the truth?”
Her voice rose, weak but sharp. “The truth won’t give you peace, Kayna! It will only take more from you than you’ve already lost.”
The words struck like a slap. “You think ignorance is safer? That if I just keep pretending, none of this matters?” My chest burned. “That’s not fair. To me, to Mateo, to—”
“To you?” Her eyes filled with tears, her voice breaking. “Everything I’ve ever done was for you. To protect you from all this.”
Silence slammed between us. My pulse throbbed in my ears.
Finally, she sagged back against the pillows, exhausted. “He was involved with men you don’t ever want to cross. Dangerous men. Men who saw people as pawns in their games of power and money. When he was arrested, I thought it was over. I thought prison meant safety but some debts don’t disappear just because someone’s behind bars.”
Her eyes found mine again, wet and fierce. “If you want answers, Kayna, don’t ask me. I’ve spent my life trying to forget. You go to him. Face him yourself.”
I felt my throat close. The idea of visiting my father—the man whose absence had shaped every jagged edge of my childhood—made my stomach twist violently.
“Why me?” I whispered.
“Because he won’t lie to you.” Her tone was heavy, resigned. “He lied to me. To Mateo. To the world. But you? He’ll tell you the truth. You’ve always been his weak spot.”
I shook my head, tears blurring my vision. “You can’t ask me to do that. You can’t—”
“I’m not asking.” Her voice softened, cracking with emotion. “I’m telling you, if you need closure, if you need to know why he made the choices he did—you’ll have to look him in the eye.”
The air in the room thickened, the hum of machines the only sound between us.
I turned away, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes. “God, Mom. You kept this from me my whole life. And now you’re telling me to just… go see him?”
Her silence was answer enough.
The door creaked open, and Mateo stepped in with two cups of coffee. His eyes flicked between us immediately. “What happened?”
I wiped quickly at my cheeks. “Nothing.”
Mom gave him a sharp look. “Don’t lie to him.”
My chest tightened as I turned on Mateo. “You knew about this. About the letters. And you said nothing.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I only saw one. I didn’t even read the whole thing.”
“That doesn’t matter!” My voice shook. “Do you realize how insane this is? Dad wrote letters, Mom kept them, and all this time I thought his story ended in a courtroom. But apparently, it doesn’t. Apparently, he’s sitting on truths that could ruin us, and I’m the one who’s supposed to go drag them out of him?”
Mateo opened his mouth, but Mom cut him off. “Stop fighting. Both of you.”
Her tone carried the finality that said this conversation was over.
I bit down on my lip so hard it hurt, my chest was heaving.
The room fell into tense silence. I forced myself back into the chair, unable to look at either of them. My thoughts spiraled. My father, dangerous men, hidden letters.
Was my entire life a lie?
I reached for my bag, desperate to anchor myself in something ordinary. My phone buzzed before my fingers touched it.
Unknown number.
My heart stuttered.
I answered before I could second-guess. “Hello?”
Silence. Then a low voice. “You’re looking in the wrong place, Kayna.”
My blood froze. “Who is this?”
The voice chuckled darkly.
I gripped the phone tighter, glancing at my mom and Mateo—neither of them noticed, both lost in their own thoughts.
“You don’t know… but you should. You’ve been living in the shadow of—”
The line cracked, words dissolving into static.
I pressed the phone tighter to my ear. “What? Say that again!”
“…letters… not the only thing he left behind…”
My pulse pounded. “What letters? Are you talking about my father?”
More static. A strained breath on the other end, like the caller was close but being pulled away.
The line went dead.
I stared at my phone, heart racing so violently I thought it might burst out of my chest.
I sat frozen in the sterile hospital room, my mother asleep behind me, Mateo oblivious at my side while the weight of that cryptic warning wrapped around me like a tightening rope.