Chapter 33
Chapter 33
Broken Chains
Judith
The door creaked. My heart jumped.
Maxwell walked in. His shirt was clean. His hair combed. His face looked calm, but his eyes were heavy.
“You need to eat,” he said. His voice steady.
I raised my head. I looked at him. “I need my son.”
His jaw tightened. “Judith, listen. I didn’t order that. Someone acted without me.”
I laughed, bitter. “Oh, right. You’re the king here, but your soldiers don’t follow your orders? Do you expect me to believe that?”
He stepped closer. His shadow fell over me. “I’m telling you the truth.”
I stood fast, chair scraping back. “Then prove it. Find him. Bring him back. Or I swear…”
His hand caught my arm. His grip was hard, burning. My voice cracked but I pushed out the words. “Or I will burn your whole kingdom down.”
For a moment his eyes shifted. Soft. Pained. But then he let go. He turned his face away.
“I’ll get him back,” he muttered. “But you have to trust me.”
“Trust?” I spat the word. “That word means nothing now.”
Caleb
The white room was quiet. The bed was stiff. The blanket scratched. Caleb curled small, hoodie pulled under his chin. His little fists rubbed his eyes. They still burned.
“Mommy,” he whispered. Again and again. Hoping she could hear through the walls.
The door opened.
Aunt Lila walked in with a tray. Juice. Cookies.
“Look,” she said, sweet like candy. “A treat for you.”
Caleb sat up. His tummy growled. But he did not move.
“I want Mommy,” he said. His voice was small, almost gone.
Her smile twitched. Her face cracked for a second. Then she slammed the tray down. The glass shook.
“You’re with me now,” she snapped. “Mommy doesn’t matter. She won’t come.”
Caleb’s lip trembled. He wanted her to be wrong. He wanted Mommy to break the door open and hold him tight.
But the door stayed shut.
He picked up a cookie. He bit it. It tasted like chalk. Tears blurred his eyes again.
Lila knelt close. Her hand smoothed his hair, but it felt wrong. Her nails scraped his skin.
“You’ll forget her soon,” she whispered.
Caleb pulled back. “No! I won’t!”
Her smile fell. Her eyes turned dark.
“We’ll see,” she said.
Judith
The mansion was too quiet. Cameras blinked red in the corners. Guards walked outside the door. Their boots hit heavy.
I paced the room like a trapped animal. My fists tight. My chest on fire.
Where was Caleb? Was he crying? Was he cold?
I grabbed the glass of water and threw it at the wall. It shattered loud. Shards scattered like knives.
My breath came rough. My hands bled.
The door burst open. Two soldiers rushed in with rifles.
Maxwell followed, fast. His eyes scanned the mess, then fixed on me.
“What are you doing?” he barked.
I lifted my bleeding hands. Red dripped down my skin. “I’ll never stop fighting,” I said, raw and broken. “Not until my son is back.”
Something shifted in his face. Guilt. Or anger. I could not tell.
He waved the soldiers out, slammed the door, and stayed there. Watching me.
At last he spoke, his voice low. “You think I’m your enemy. Maybe I am. But there’s a bigger war you don’t see yet.”
I laughed sharp. “My war is simple. My son.”
His eyes dropped to the floor. “Then you should know… if Lila has him, she won’t let go.”
The air left my lungs.
“Aunt Lila?” My voice cracked. “She has him?”
He said nothing. He didn’t need to.
The truth crushed me.
“No,” I whispered. My knees shook. “Not her. Not Lila.”
Memories hit hard, her sweet smiles, her soft hugs. All lies. And now her hands were on my child.
Caleb
Night dragged on. The light above buzzed. The window was locked tight.
Caleb lay curled under the blanket. He whispered into the dark. “Mommy. Mommy.”
When he opened his eyes, Aunt Lila was still there. Sitting. Staring.
Her smile was too wide. Too sharp.
“You’re mine,” she whispered.
Caleb clutched the blanket. His voice came out small but strong. “No.”
Her smile dropped. Her eyes cut deep into him.
“We’ll see,” she said.
Judith
I sat on the bed. Blood dry on my hands. Hate burning in my chest.
Maxwell’s words pounded in my head. If Lila has him…
I knew then, I could not wait. I could not trust.
I had to escape. I had to find Caleb.
The mansion was locked. Guards everywhere. The walls thick like stone.
But I was a mother. A mother without her child is sharper than any knife. More dangerous than any army.
I knelt by the bed. My fingers slid under the frame. I found it. A shard of glass. Cold. Jagged. Mine.
I slipped it into my sleeve.
Then pressed my ear to the door. Listened.
Footsteps passed. Then silence.
I whispered, “Caleb.”
Miles away, a little boy whispered too, clutching his blanket.
“Mommy.”
Their voices did not meet. But the night carried them.
And in the shadows, someone listened.
The air shifted, like the house itself was holding its breath.
Somewhere beyond the walls, a lock clicked.
A step echoed in the dark.
Closer.
Watching.
Waiting.
Neither Judith nor Caleb knew it yet, but the chain between them was about to be pulled tighter.
And it would cut deep.