Chapter 51 It Was Real

Chapter 51 It Was Real
Zeno stood up in an instant, glancing at Charlotte before walking towards Lyla’s room to collect their stuff. His hands moved steadily, but his mind was absent or more likely distant-minded. Could he be thinking something or just trying to thread the broken ties? But his silence was known to be the loudest in the room.

“Alaister.” As he zipped the last bag on the bed, Charlotte walked into the room. Zeno turned to look at her, still standing next to the bed.

“Yes?” he answered calmly, even though in his head he was guessing what she was about to say. He left her without a word to pack the bags, because he couldn’t say anything to the confession. He married Lyla for simplicity because he thought Giselle would be a much bigger problem, and she was not the two birds in one stone he was looking for. Lyla, on the other hand, she was the perfect catch, her pure façade and link towards Matthew was what he wanted. But now? It felt like Zeno was being played in his own game.

“Don’t hurt her. She suffered enough in the past,” Charlotte begged, as he was the only person she could ask for favors. Lyla was now living with someone else, someone she belonged to, and someone who was a stranger to her.

“I don’t even know what happened to her in the past, Charlotte. It’s not my place to judge, but I want to know the truth before I handle it myself.” His voice was stern and intimidating, but not in a threatening way. ‘Handling’ it, his version was different than others. No talk, no discussion, and meet in the middle. His version of ‘handling’ was digging into the information and taking action. “After all, Lyla is my wife now. Whatever I do, it’s my right as her husband, providing safety and security.”

“I can’t tell you much because my husband wouldn’t tell me more than I need to know,” Charlotte said, her hands clasped together and her fingers played nervously.

“What did you know?” Zeno asked demandingly, his eyes moved, inspecting from her gesture to her facial expression. He analyzed her thoroughly and discreetly. He was smooth, didn’t want to make her uncomfortable as she already was. “Is the kidnapping real?’

“Of course, it was. She spent nights being held captive in that monster’s hand. He ruined my baby’s sanity.” As she remembered it again, her anger rose. The thought of her daughter being hurt pained her heart. She remembered that night when Andrew finally brought her home. She looked worse than a homeless person.

Charlotte stood on the porch shaking, waiting for her daughter, who had been missing for two weeks, fourteen days, and three hundred and thirty-six hours. She had been crying nonstop, thinking and worrying about her youngest daughter. When her husband said he would bring her back today, Charlotte had been on edge, her heart couldn’t be at ease. Even though she was relieved, but a tight feeling suffocated her.

Clasping her hands together, Charlotte put them in front of her chest as she prayed diligently. She was all alone at the house; her husband and the crew went to save their daughter. Meanwhile, her eldest daughter was nowhere in sight. She didn’t know she was supposed to be worried about her, too, or not. But Charlotte knew how her eldest daughter acted, the free soul. For now, she forgot about her and just focused on her youngest, Lyla.

“Please, God, let my youngest be okay,” she prayed, mumbling. Her fingers were squeezing each other, her eyes focused on the entrance of their house. It was dark, but Charlotte didn’t care, she kept waiting for them to come home.

Headlights were coming in their driveway, and Charlotte’s heart beat faster. Even though she was anticipating her arrival, but still, she couldn’t help but feel distressed. But Charlotte sighed heavily, and it turned out to be her oldest daughter, Giselle.

“Mom, has she come?” Giselle ran to her mother hurriedly and asked the question right away. She was at her friend’s house when she heard that Andrew and the crew were out catching the kidnapper of her little sister. So, she came home immediately after hearing the news. Giselle held her arms while looking at her mother.

“No,” Charlotte replied weakly, her pupils shook. She was at the point of exhaustion. But she wanted to stay and embrace her daughter when she came home.

“It’s all right, Mom. Why don’t you take a seat? We don’t want you to pass out when she’s finally home,” Giselle coaxed her. She looked so tired, and Giselle felt empathetic towards her mother, who worried about her little sister too much.

Charlotte abode without complaining as her body started to give out. So, if sitting down would make her feel better, she would do that. Charlotte sat on the chair on their porch, still outside as they waited.

A few minutes passed, a flashing blue and red lights could be seen approaching their home. The identic headlight of a police car. Knew it was her husband, Charlotte quickly stood up and walked down the front porch. She had to drag her feet to move, she had to be strong for her daughter.

Tears fell down her cheeks even before the cars stopped, her hope was high. Giselle kept by her side, supporting her. Giselle didn’t cry, but she felt what her mother felt, more or less.

The only person Charlotte looking forwards was Andrew, she could see his silhouette inside the car, and her eyes were looking for one more, her daughter. She couldn’t see her, so she kept looking, searching one by one through the people coming out of the car.

Andrew came out last, and he was holding someone. The car door was hiding the silhouette, but when it moved out, Charlotte’s cry broke. She immediately ran towards them. She pulled her daughter into her arms tightly and cried like a river, the tears wouldn’t stop coming.

“My baby,” she cried, sobbing hard while hugging the most precious person in this world, her daughter. The person in her arms was still, but her breathing was steady.