Chapter 128 Chapter 128
Liana's Pov
I woke up to the soft clinking of a tray being placed on my nightstand. I could smell the scent of tea and buttered toast wafting in the air before I even opened my eyes. When I finally blushed into consciousness in the light of day, the first thing I saw was my mother leaning over me, her eyes wide with worried silence.
"Good morning, sweetie," she whispered softly, as though she didn't want to rouse me.
But the moment I moved my head, a searing pain exploded behind my temples. I twitched and shut my eyes again. My head folded in as it banged like a drum.
"Migraine," my mother said softly, not even questioning. She knew, of course, she did.
"I'm fine," I lied, though my voice was strained. I tried to push myself up, but the motion sent another spiral of agony through my head.
"Don't," she whispered softly, setting her hand against my shoulder. "Just lie back and rest.”
She got up and reached for the small medicine bottle on the table and pushed two pills into my palm. "Take them, drink some water. Then eat something if you can. You're going to need your strength.".
I gulped I down obediently, pushing the tablets down with a warm drink. The bitterness lingered on my tongue. My mother remained beside me, silent and watchful, as if afraid that something might happen if she left me.
Once the tablets were down, she made gently fiddled with the pillows behind me and slid the tray across my knees. She had made toast, eggs, and tea. The ultimate comfort of the world.
"I don't think I can eat," I whispered, but my stomach turned against me with an empty noise. She gave me one look and I picked a piece and nibbled on the corner of the toast and swallowed hard.
My mother sat on the edge of the bed, fists tightly gripped in her lap. She was too tired and I wondered if she had even slept.
"I see that these days are crushing you," she said softly after a long silence. "But you're stronger than you think, Liana. You always were."
I looked down at the tea, not daring to meet her eye. Her words nipped at the membrane of guilt and fear I'd been building in myself.
"Stronger," I repeated back, with near bitterness. "If I were strong, we wouldn't still be here."
She sighed, shook her head, but did not protest. She reached out instead and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, her fingers gentle.
"Just rest," she said softly. "Let the medicine take effect. All the rest can wait."
But all the rest couldn't wait. Not really. I placed the toast back on the plate. I had lost my appetite. The silence between us lingered, heavy, until words I'd struggled to keep in check forced their way out.
"Mum," I began, my throat tight. "I'm not going to the next court hearing."
Her head sprang up, her eyes snapping open in shock. "What do you mean?"
"I can't," I exclaimed, before I lost my nerve. "I can't do it again. I won't."
She raised her brows and bent in a bit closer, as if she had heard me wrong. "Liana, that's not something you can do. You know you have to be there."
“No," I replied, my head shaking despite how much it hurt. "I don't. What's the point of me going? I have no proof. I have no evidence. I have only words, and words aren't sufficient. They'll shred me apart, and I'll just end up making a fool of myself.
My voice cracked on the last sentence, and I pressed my hand against my mouth, ashamed of the weakness spilling out of me.
Her face softened, but her voice was firm. "You can't let fear decide for you. You've come this far. You can't just give up."
"You don't understand," I whispered, my breastbone closing in. "Every time I walk into that room, I feel small. I feel like they're all judging me, waiting for me to screw up. Dominic already dominates everything else, and when I sit there, it's like I'm handing him more."
I could sense the tears at the edges of my eyes, but I didn't let them fall.
“I can’t keep doing this,” I said, my voice barely audible.
My mother grasped my hands, wrapping them in hers. Her arms were warm, solid, and unbreakable. "I do get it. I know how hard this is for you. I know how much it costs you every time. But, Liana, if you don't go, it won't be about you. It'll be about all of what we're fighting for. All of what Serena still believes in. Do you think they'd want you to give up now?"
Her words hit like stones, solid and immovable. I wanted to object, but she was right. Mason, Serena, even Stanley. They had all given pieces of themselves to this movement. And me? I was ready to abandon the ship because I couldn't handle the weight bearing down on me.
I pulled my hands loose and clenched them into fists. "It's not fair," I muttered.
“No, it isn't," my mother agreed. Her voice cracked for the first time, her resolve dissipating. "It isn't fair on them either. But fairness isn't what gets to win. Courage is. And I know you're capable of that, even when you don't believe you are.".
There was a pause again, broken only by the tick-tick of the clock on the wall. The pills took the gnawing edge from the pain in my head, but the pain in my chest grew sharper.
I rested back against the pillows, eyes shut. My mother's words warred with my fear.
"I don't know if I can," I whispered in the silence.
Her hand took hold of mine again, gently squeezing. "You don't need to know yet. Just rest today. Tomorrow, we'll do something about it again. One step at a time."
I wanted to trust her. I wanted to trust that I still had a final ounce of strength left. But as the room darkened behind closed eyes, all I could sense was the crushing weight of doubt.