Chapter 106 106
EMILY
I was scared.
I didn’t know what kind of person my grandmother was, and that alone made my chest feel tight as the car slowed to a stop.
My fingers curled slightly in my lap as I stared out the window, even after we had entered the estate.
The gates alone were intimidating.
By the time the car pulled fully into the compound, my breath caught in my throat.
“This is…” I trailed off softly.
My mom glanced at me with a small smile. “Home. "Welcome home, Emily," she said.
Home.
This huge-ass mansion was my home?
The word didn’t sit right.
The driver stepped out first and quickly came around to open my door.
For a second, I didn’t move. I just sat there, trying to calm myself.
“Emily, come on," my dad called gently.
I blinked and stepped out.
The air felt different outside, heavier somehow.
I became very aware of myself as I stood there, taking everything in.
I was so out of place.
My mom and dad came to stand beside me almost immediately.
“Are you ready baby?” my mom asked softly.
I hesitated.
Then I nodded. “Yes… yes, I’m ready.”
Hazel adjusted Zara in her arms beside me, and together, we started walking toward the house.
The doors opened before we even reached them.
Maids lined up on both sides the moment we stepped in. Their posture was straight, their expressions calm but respectful.
It was overwhelming.
“This way, ma’am,” one of them said.
We were led into a large sitting room. I sat down slowly, trying not to look as out of place as I felt.
My hands rested in my lap again, fingers lacing together tightly.
No one spoke.
The silence stretched, thick and heavy. I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears.
Then I felt it.
That shift in the room.
I looked up.
A woman stood at the top of the stairs.
I hadn’t heard her approach, but somehow, her presence filled the entire space.
She didn’t rush or speak. She just stood there, looking down at me.
At me.
My breath hitched.
There was something in her gaze—something sharp, something assessing. I suddenly felt like I was being judged without a single word being said.
She started walking down the stairs.
Slowly.
Gracefully.
By the time she reached the last step, I was already on my feet without realizing it. My body moved before my mind caught up, pulling me toward her.
My mom stood too. “Mom…” she said softly. “This is Emily. My daughter.”
The woman’s eyes didn’t leave my face.
She stepped closer.
And closer.
Then stopped right in front of me.
For a second, she said nothing.
She just looked at me.
My throat went dry under the weight of it, and I resisted the urge to look away.
“Emily… If not for your face,” she finally said, her voice calm but firm, “and the way it mirrors your sister’s…I would have thought this was some kind of scam.”
I blinked.
“Erm…” I started awkwardly.
Then suddenly, her arms opened.
Wide.
The shift was so unexpected it threw me off completely.
I hesitated for a second before stepping forward.
The moment I moved into her arms, she pulled me in fully.
“Welcome home,” she said quietly.
Something in my chest tightened.
I hugged her back.
It didn’t stay awkward for long.
At first, the conversation was slow and careful, like we were all trying to figure each other out.
But gradually, the tension eased.
She asked questions.
About me.
About my life.
And she listened.
I found myself settling in pretty well.
The awkwardness from earlier has slowly reduced.
At some point, Zara stirred in Hazel’s arms. She let out a soft sound before her eyes fluttered open.
I turned immediately.
“Hey, baby,” I said softly.
Zara blinked sleepily, her gaze drifting around the unfamiliar space before settling on me. Her small hand reached out.
I took it.
“Mummy…” she murmured.
“I’m here,” I whispered.
The room seemed to soften.
My grandmother’s attention shifted.
“Bring her,” she said gently.
Hazel stepped forward and placed Zara into my arms.
I adjusted her against me as she rested briefly on my shoulder.
Then she peeked out again.
“This is your great-grandmother,” I told her softly.
Zara didn’t say anything.
She just stared.
My grandmother smiled.
Not the composed one from earlier but something softer. Something emotional.
“Hello, little one,” she said quietly.
Zara blinked.
Then leaned a little closer into me, still watching her.
I held her tighter.
Everything about this felt surreal.
Hours later, I finally had a moment alone.
I sat on the edge of the bed in the room they had given me, staring at nothing in particular.
The space was beautiful—too beautiful—but I couldn’t fully take it in.
My mind was elsewhere.
Had I made the right choice?
Somehow… I felt at peace with all these but there’s this feeling of unease I couldn’t shake off.
A soft knock came at the door.
“Come in,” I said.
My mom stepped in and closed the door gently behind her.
“Are you free to talk?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yeah… sure.”
She sat beside me, studying my face.
“How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” I said automatically.
Then I sighed. “I think.”
She smiled faintly.
Silence settled between us.
Then I turned to her.
“How do you know Cecelia?”
She stilled.
The reaction was immediate.
“What?” she asked carefully.
“You know her, right? I saw the way you conversed at the hospital," I pressed.
She let out a small breath. “We used to be friends,” she said slowly. “A long time ago.”
“What happened?”
“We stopped talking,” she replied simply.
That wasn’t enough.
“You didn’t just ‘stop talking,’” I said.
She gave a small, knowing smile. “Some stories are longer than they need to be.”
I frowned but didn’t push further.
Instead, she looked at me again.
“How do you know Cecelia?” she asked.
I hesitated.
Then I answered.
“Her son…” I said quietly. “He’s Zara’s father.”