Chapter 53 up
“Fifteen minutes. No touching,” the officer said firmly as he unlocked the visiting room door.
Selena’s mother stepped in first, her movements hesitant, fingers trembling around the strap of her small handbag. Her husband followed a step behind, his face rigid, jaw clenched as if holding back something wild and furious clawing inside his chest.
The iron door shut behind them with a cold, final click.
Selena was already seated on the other side of the metal table, dressed in a detainee’s uniform that looked too large for her thinning frame. Her hair was tied back carelessly, loose strands framing a face drained of color. But the moment she saw her parents, her eyes filled instantly with tears.
“Mom… Dad…” Her voice broke. She half rose from her chair, hands lifting instinctively as if to embrace them—then she froze, remembering the invisible boundary between them. “I’m scared…”
Her mother let out a sob, stopping a few steps short of the table. “Selena…” She covered her mouth, her cry tearing free despite herself. “What have they done to you, my child?”
Her father did not sit right away. He remained standing, staring at his daughter with an expression Selena could not decipher—anger, fear, disappointment, and something darker, heavier.
“What happened?” he asked coolly. “We want to hear it from you.”
Selena lowered her head, shoulders shaking. “I… I’m not what they say I am. I just—” Her voice faltered. “I was afraid of losing everything.”
“Losing what?” her father cut in. “Clark?”
Selena nodded quickly. “I’m pregnant, Dad. I was alone. Everyone looked at me like I was trash. I just wanted to protect my child.”
Her mother sat down immediately, reaching her hand across the table. “My baby…” Her voice was soft, aching. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”
“I did!” Selena looked up sharply. “I said I was under pressure. I said I needed help. But they—” She choked on a sob. “They always defended her. Always Nyla. Like I never mattered.”
Her father crossed his arms. “So this is everyone else’s fault?”
Selena hesitated, then shook her head frantically. “No, that’s not what I mean. I just… I reacted. I never meant to hurt anyone.”
“Reacted how?” Her father leaned forward. “By hiring people? By kidnapping?”
Her mother gasped. “Don’t speak to our daughter like that!”
Selena dropped her gaze again, tears splashing onto the metal table. “I didn’t kidnap anyone…” she whispered. “I just wanted to scare her a little. Just enough to make her leave. To make Clark look at me again.”
The word little froze the air in the room.
Her father’s eyes hardened. “A little?”
Selena nodded desperately. “I didn’t tell them to hurt her. I didn’t know they would—”
The door behind them opened. An officer stepped in, holding a thin folder.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said formally. “There’s a brief clarification we need to share with the family.”
Her father gave a stiff nod. “Go ahead.”
The officer opened the folder. “We have records of payment transfers to the two perpetrators. Voice messages containing clear instructions. The location of the confinement. And a confession from the perpetrators stating that all orders came from… the defendant.”
Selena’s head snapped up. “That’s a lie!”
The officer glanced at her briefly, then returned his attention to her parents. “The recordings will be presented in court.”
Her mother’s face went white. “Recordings… Selena’s voice?”
The officer nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
Selena half stood, gripping the edge of the table. “I was angry! I was under pressure! You don’t know what it feels like—”
“Sit down,” the officer ordered curtly.
Selena collapsed back into her chair, breathing hard.
Her father closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them slowly. When he spoke again, his voice was lower, heavier. “You said you only wanted to scare her.”
Selena nodded quickly, as if that could still save her. “Yes, Dad. For my child.”
“And if that woman had died?” he asked quietly.
Selena froze. Her lips parted, but no words came out.
Her mother turned toward her, tears of confusion streaming down her face. “Selena… say something.”
“I… I didn’t think that far,” Selena whispered at last. “I just wanted to stop feeling like I was losing.”
The words hit her father like a brutal blow. He bowed his head, one hand pressing flat against the table, veins standing out beneath his skin.
“So this wasn’t about the baby,” he said softly. “This was about your pride.”
Selena shook her head in panic. “No! Dad, please—”
He raised his hand, stopping her. He looked at her for a long time, as if searching for the little girl he once carried on his shoulders, the child he once taught how to walk.
“All this time,” he said slowly, “I defended you. I blamed Clark. I blamed circumstances. I told your mother that blood could never be wrong.”
He let out a short, bitter laugh. “Turns out blood can mislead too.”
Her mother cried harder. “She’s our child…”
“I know,” he replied without looking at her. “And that’s exactly why I have to ask.”
He lifted his head and looked Selena straight in the eyes. His voice trembled—not with anger, but with something close to breaking.
“What did you really do, Selena?”
Selena opened her mouth. Her sob caught in her throat. For the first time, no excuse came rushing forward. No justification rose to shield her. No tears were strong enough to bury the truth.
“I wanted her gone,” she said at last, barely audible. “I wanted him back. I wanted to win.”
Silence swallowed the room.
Her mother covered her face, shaking. “Oh God…”
Her father leaned back in his chair, suddenly looking older, defeated. “Do you know what winning looks like now?” he asked quietly. “A courtroom. Bars. A child born with a mother behind glass.”
Selena’s hands flew to her stomach. “My baby—”
“Your baby will live with the consequences of your choices,” her father interrupted. “Just like she would have, if the roles were reversed.”
The officer glanced at his watch. “Time’s up.”
The iron door opened again, the sound sharp and unforgiving.
Her mother stood on trembling legs. She reached out instinctively—then stopped, her hand hovering uselessly in the air. “We’ll… we’ll come again,” she whispered, though even she did not sound certain.
Her father rose last. He looked at Selena one final time, his gaze heavy with grief rather than anger. “Blood does not always defend,” he said quietly. “Sometimes, it demands the truth.”