Chapter 100 100
RYAN
“I told you, I’m fine.”
My voice came out firmer than I felt, but I didn’t slow down. My mom was right behind me anyway, her heels clicking too fast against the floor.
“Ryan, just—”
“I said I’m fine.”
That made her stop. I didn’t turn, but I felt it—the hesitation, the small break in her steps.
Good.
Because I wasn’t a child. Not anymore.
Not after everything.
The hospital doors slid open behind us, and the air outside hit differently. Fresher, lighter, almost clean.
I felt so free.
No more white walls. No more machines.
No more gaps in my head.
Everything was back. Every single memory.
And that was the problem.
“Careful,” my mom said softly as we approached the car.
I didn’t answer. I just got in without waiting for her.
She followed after a second. The door shut, and the driver pulled off without a word, and silence filled the car.
It sat there for a few seconds, thick and uncomfortable, before I broke it.
“Where’s Emily? It’s weird that I've not seen her this past few days, Mum."
The reaction was instant. A sharp, almost offended scoff.
I turned slightly, watching her.
“Don’t,” she said.
Her tone was so cold that I almost got chills.
“Don’t mention that girl’s name.”
My jaw tightened.
“That girl?”
“Yes,” she snapped. “That girl.”
I let out a slow breath, leaning back slightly.
“What did she do?”
My mom turned to face me fully now. Her expression had changed completely.
Hardened.
“Ryan, I will not sit here and discuss that girl with you after everything she has done.”
“What did she do?” I repeated.
Slower this time. More deliberate.
She held my gaze for a moment. Then looked away.
“You don’t need to concern yourself with her anymore.”
That wasn’t an answer. She was trying so hard to avoid the question.
And I knew it.
“I’m asking a simple question.”
“And I’ve given you a simple response.”
I let out a quiet laugh under my breath.
“Right.”
The rest of the drive stayed quiet. But it wasn’t peaceful.
It was tense. Heavy.
It felt as though something was lurking between us, just waiting to explode.
The car stopped and smoothly rolled into the compound. The driver stepped out to open my door.
I got down slowly, steady on my feet.
I ignored how my mom hovered too close, she was acting as if I might collapse any second.
“I can walk,” I said.
She paused for a second. Then nodded.
But I saw it in her face.
She didn’t like it.
Didn’t like that I wasn’t leaning on her.
Didn’t like that I didn’t need her.
Good.
I started toward the house, each step slow and controlled.
Grounding.
Reminding me I was back.
The front door opened before I reached it.
My dad stood there, smiling too wide.
Aaron stood beside him, holding a ridiculous banner.
“WELCOME BACK!” it read in bold, uneven letters.
Aaron grinned.
“About time, man—”
They both started toward me.
I walked past them.
Didn’t stop.
Didn’t smile.
Didn’t say a word.
The silence that followed me inside was immediate.
I didn’t care.
I kept walking.
Straight to the stairs.
My mom’s voice floated behind me.
“Ryan—”
I ignored her.
Halfway up, I stopped.
Turned.
Miranda was standing near the bottom of the stairs.
Quiet. Still.
Like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to exist in that moment.
I looked straight at her.
“Come with me.”
My mom’s face lit up instantly.
A wide, satisfied smile spread across her lips.
“I knew it,” she said softly. “I knew you would—”
I turned and kept walking.
Didn’t even acknowledge her.
Behind me, I heard Miranda hesitate.
Then follow.
The moment we got into my room, I shut the door.
Locked it.
The click echoed louder than it should have.
Miranda flinched slightly.
I turned to face her.
She looked nervous.
No—more than nervous.
Scared.
Good.
Because I wasn’t in the mood for lies.
“What’s going on?”
She blinked.
“I—what?”
I took a step closer.
Her back straightened instantly.
“Don’t do that,” I said. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“I’m not pretending,” she said quickly. “I actually don’t—”
“Miranda.”
Her name came out sharp.
Firm.
Enough to cut through whatever excuse she was about to give.
She went quiet.
I took another step closer.
Now there was barely any space between us.
“Do you want to get fired?” I asked.
Her breathing shifted.
Uneven.
“I…” she started, then stopped.
I didn’t move.
Didn’t blink.
Just watched her.
Waiting.
“Say it.”
She swallowed.
“My—your mom…”
“What about her?”
“She told Emily not to come here anymore.”
My brows pulled together.
“What?”
“She said she shouldn’t show her face around here again,” Miranda rushed out. “She said it wasn’t appropriate and that she needed to stay away.”
I stared at her.
Trying to process that.
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I know.”
“When did she say this?”
“A few days ago.”
While I was still in the hospital.
Unconscious.
Of course.
“What else?”
Miranda hesitated.
That alone irritated me.
“What else?” I repeated.
“There’s more, isn’t there?”
She looked down.
That made it worse.
“Look at me.”
She did.
Slowly. Reluctantly.
“She’s trying to take your daughter.”
Everything in me went still.
“…what?”
“Emily’s daughter,” she repeated quietly. “She has already started the process.”
I let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m serious,” Miranda said quickly. “She’s been making calls. Talking to lawyers.”
My jaw tightened.
“She said it’s better if the child stays in this family.”
“In this family?”
“Yes.”
“And when exactly did all these happen?”
Miranda hesitated again.
And just like before—
I didn’t like it.
“Miranda.”
Her voice dropped.
“…Last week.”
“She’s seriously going after Emily?” I asked.
“She didn’t say it like that,” Miranda said quickly. “But it was implied.”
“She said the child isn’t safe where she is.”
A bitter smile pulled at my lips.
“Not safe.”
“Ryan—”
“And she thinks taking her away is the solution?”
“I don’t know what she thinks,” Miranda said. “I’m just telling you what I heard.”
I turned away from her.
My hand ran through my hair slowly, trying to steady the anger building in my chest.
Nothing about this made sense.
Nothing about the situation felt right.
My mom’s scared of something.
Shutting Emily out.
Now this.
I exhaled slowly.
Then spoke.
“And you’re just telling me this now?”
Miranda stiffened.
“I didn’t know how to say it,” she admitted.
“That’s not an answer.”
“I was waiting for you to get better,” she said quickly. “You were in the hospital, sir.”
“So you decided to keep quiet?”
“I didn’t want to stress you.”
I let out a short laugh.
“Too late for that.”