Chapter 25 25
The tension in the living room was suffocating. Evan paced back and forth, his shoes creating a rhythmic pattern against the hardwood floor. He stopped abruptly, turning to face the woman sitting rigidly on the leather sofa.
"Destroyed. Everything we've built is gone." His words came out measured, controlled, but the tremor in his jaw betrayed his frustration. "Do you understand what you've done?"
Years of meticulous planning reduced to ashes. He ran his hand through his graying hair, the weight of their ruined vendetta against the Leo family pressing down on his shoulders.
"I had him, Father. I was so close." The woman's voice cracked slightly. She twisted her hands in her lap, the perfectly manicured nails digging into her palms. "But that woman, Brooke, she's like a ghost that won't leave him alone. Even the divorce didn't matter. He won't move forward."
Evan's fingers curled slowly into a fist at his side. The other hand rose, index finger extended toward his daughter like an accusation.
"I should never have trusted you with this." The disappointment in his voice cut deeper than anger could. "I believed you were strong enough, calculated enough. I was mistaken."
"But I love him." The words escaped as barely more than a whisper. "Nathan is all I want."
His head snapped toward her, disbelief etched across his features. "Focus, Georgie."
He crossed the room in quick strides, retrieving a leather briefcase from beside the door. When he returned, he set it on the coffee table and clicked it open with practiced efficiency.
"The surgeries. The new identity. The risk of returning to this place." He pulled out an ID card, holding it between two fingers. "All of it wasted. Security checkpoints are everywhere now, searching for you."
He extended the card toward her.
"Keren Williams no longer exists. You'll need to become yourself again if we're going to leave Silverbrook." He studied her face, seeing traces of the girl she used to be beneath the surgical alterations. "I'll get hair dye. We will start over tonight."
He left her sitting there, the ID card resting in her trembling hands.
Alone in the dim room, rage bubbled up from somewhere deep inside her chest. Her teeth clenched so hard her jaw ached.
"Brooke Turner." The name tasted bitter on her tongue.
Every single obstacle, every setback, could be traced back to that one person. She had transformed herself completely. After their forced departure from Silverbrook all those years ago. Endured the pain of multiple surgeries to reconstruct her face. Tracked Nathan's college applications and enrolled in the same university.
For a brief, shining moment, she had succeeded. Nathan had noticed her. Spent time with her. Her carefully constructed dream seemed within reach.
Then came the return to Silverbrook. Nathan's father recognized something. sensed something and banned her from his son's life for the second time. Worse, he had orchestrated a marriage between Nathan and Brooke. cementing the union she had tried so desperately to prevent.
The manipulation that led to their divorce should have been her triumph. She had whispered the right words. planted the right seeds of doubt, maneuvered all the pieces into place.
Yet still, Brooke won.
The wedding ring remained on Nathan's finger. He refused her company for entire nights. Brooke's clothes still hung in the closet like territorial markers. The villa she desperately wanted to share with him remained closed to her.
"Divorced, and you're still the victor." Her voice rose, filling the empty room. "Always in my way. Always stealing what should be mine. When does my turn come? When will I finally become the center of his world instead of the woman he barely acknowledges?"
The questions hung in the air, unanswered.
A Decade Earlier
The school staircase stretched before her. Young Georgie calculated each step carefully. She watched Nathan and his friends approach from below. She waited until they reached the perfect distance, then let herself stumble. A small cry escaping her lips.
Strong hands caught her before gravity could claim its victory.
"Watch your step. You could hurt yourself." Nathan's voice carried genuine concern.
Gratitude spilled from her lips. She opened her mouth to continue the conversation, to hold his attention just a moment longer.
Then Brooke appeared, running toward them with her usual careless energy. Nathan's focus shifted completely, as if Georgie had simply evaporated from existence.
The hallway incident came next. She spotted Nathan, Ryan, and Matt heading her way. She deliberately let her books slip from her arms. papers scattering across the polished floor.
Nathan crouched beside her, gathering the scattered materials. "Georgie, you have to be careful where you step."
"Thank you, Nathan. I must have missed a step." She accepted the books from him, then seized her opportunity. "I'm having a party this weekend. You and your friends should come."
Ryan's interest sparked at the mention of free drinks and female company. He looked at Nathan expectantly.
Before Nathan could respond, Brooke came barreling toward them, out of breath. She was flushed with excitement.
"Bee, why do you keep running like that? I told you you might hurt yourself." Nathan's scolding carried an undertone of affection.
"Daddy has a meeting later. You're supposed to take me home." Brooke's words tumbled out rapidly. "But I don't want to go home early. I want to go to the beach instead."
"The beach? Does Mr. Turner know about this?"
"No, but we could go and he wouldn't have to know." Her expression shifted into practiced innocence. "Please? Please? Please?"
The puppy-dog eyes sealed Nathan's fate. He smiled and agreed without hesitation.
Georgie stood there, invisible again. Her party, forgotten. Overshadowed by Brooke's spontaneous beach plans.
The pattern repeated itself endlessly. Georgie would stage accidents, create opportunities, position herself in Nathan's path. And Brooke would materialize like clockwork. She effortlessly captured Nathan's attention Georgie fought so hard to earn.
Resentment took root and grew.
Outside the school building one afternoon, Brooke stood with her friends. Her back turned to the approaching figure. Georgie moved with purpose, her steps quiet against the concrete.
She reached out and shoved hard between Brooke's shoulder blades.
Brooke stumbled forward, arms windmilling as she lost her balance. She fell into the street just as the school bus rounded the corner.
A smirk played across Georgie's lips.
But only for a moment.