Chapter 185 Chapter Ninety: The Destruction Of The Thornes (Part 4: Mother & Daughter).

Chapter 185 Chapter Ninety: The Destruction Of The Thornes (Part 4: Mother & Daughter).
Chapter Ninety: The Destruction Of The Thornes (Part 4: Mother & Daughter).

Ileana hurried into the foyer, fingers brushing over the console table as she searched for her keys. Her pulse hadn’t slowed since Elise’s call, and every second felt heavy.

She had just spotted them when footsteps entered the room.

Aunt Vy and Carolyn stopped short, taking in the urgency on Ileana’s face—and Phoebe’s close behind her.

Vy’s brows knit together.

“Where are you two going in such a hurry?”

Ileana paused.

She met her aunt’s gaze—the woman who had loved her from the moment she first stepped off that dock, scared and alone. Vy had always known her too well. Lying would be pointless.

Ileana swallowed.

“We’re going to the police station.”

Vy’s eyes widened.

“Why? Did something happen—”

“Elise is there,”

Ileana cut in quietly.

“She wants to confess… to everything.”

Vy froze.

For a beat, she simply stared at Ileana, as if trying to decide whether she’d heard her correctly. Then a sharp scoff burst from her lips.

“Ha!”

Vy shook her head once.

“So that evil woman has finally decided to do the right thing.”

The bitter irony of it all made Ileana let out a small, humorless chuckle.

“Not unless she can speak to me first.”

Vy’s expression hardened instantly.

“Are you serious?”

she snapped.

“Hah!”

She threw her hands up and began pacing the room, her agitation growing with every step.

“That woman! That goddamn woman!”

Vy barked.

“Even now—when she finally has the chance to do the right thing—she still wants something from you!”

Ileana and Phoebe instinctively stepped back.

Aunt Vy was intimidating on a good day. Angry Vy was something else entirely.

Without warning, Vy turned sharply and marched toward the coat closet, yanking her jacket from the hook.

Ileana rushed after her.

“Aunt Vy—what are you doing?”

Vy didn’t even look at her as she shrugged the jacket on.

“What does it look like? I’m going with you.”

Ileana faltered, glancing nervously at Phoebe.

“Aunt Vy… I—I’ll be okay. Phoebe’s coming with me.”

Vy finished adjusting her jacket, her movements brisk and final.

“And she still can.”

Ileana hesitated.

“Vy, I don’t know what she wants to say to me… but I don’t think she’ll say it if—”

“I won’t interrupt your meeting,”

Vy said firmly. She turned then, eyes sharp but controlled.

“But I ‘do’ have some things to say to her once you’re finished. So come on.”

There was no arguing with that tone.

Knowing she’d already lost this battle, Ileana nodded.

She turned toward Carolyn.

“Callie—if Remy gets home before we do, let him know where we’re at.”

Carolyn nodded immediately, worry settling deep in her eyes as she watched them head for the door.

\-------

The car ride to the station was quiet, broken only by the low murmur of Ileana’s radio. Her fingers trembled slightly as they tightened around the steering wheel. One question burned relentlessly in her mind.

‘What made Elise decide to come forward?’

The thought lingered like a blade suspended in the air—sharp, unavoidable. She glanced sideways at Aunt Vy. Her jaw was set, her posture rigid with restrained anger. Vy had never hidden her hatred for the Thornes. Ileana couldn’t help but wonder what, if anything, Vy planned to say once they came face to face with Elise.

The moment they stepped inside the station, Walter approached from the front desk, a tight smile pulling at his lips.

Tilting his hat, he greeted Vy first.

“Vy. It’s a pleasure to see you.”

Vy’s expression didn’t soften.

“You as well, Walter. Where is that woman?”

Ileana offered Walter an apologetic smile. He chuckled lightly—he shared Vy’s sentiments well enough to excuse her sharpness.

“She’s in the first interrogation room,”

he said, glancing at Ileana.

“Waiting for you, Ilie.”

He gestured down the hall and led them forward. When they reached the door, his hand paused on the knob. Walter turned back, his voice quieter now.

“Ed’s in there with her. I’ll have him step out so the two of you can speak alone. Are you alright with that?”

Ileana’s heart pounded. She nodded.

“I… yes. That’s fine.”

Walter gave a brief nod and opened the door. Nerves churned violently in Ileana’s stomach as she stepped inside. Edward rose immediately, prompting Elise to lift her head.

She looked exhausted.

Gone was the polished woman of high society—the immaculate hair, the poised confidence. In her place sat someone worn down, hollowed out, as though something essential had been carved away. And yet, when Elise’s eyes met Ileana’s, a faint glimmer surfaced—brief, fragile, unmistakable.

Edward and Walter quietly excused themselves, closing the door behind them.

Silence filled the room, thick and heavy. A clock ticked steadily on the wall, each second stretching unbearably long.

Mother and daughter stared at one another, neither rushing to speak.

Finally, Ileana broke the silence.

“You didn’t ask me here just to stare… did you?”

Elise’s eyes widened slightly. The girl who had arrived at fifteen—hopeful, eager, desperate for love—was gone. The young woman seated before her was different. Hardened. Grounded. Fierce.

A small, pained smirk tugged at Elise’s lips.

“You look so much like your grandmother,”

she said softly.

Her tone was light, but grief shadowed her expression.

“When you were born—even at three—you looked just like Silas. Your father. I remember thinking how weak my genes must have been.”

She swallowed.

“But now… now I see my mother in you. I see myself—”

Her voice broke. Tears slid silently down her cheeks.

Ileana remained unreadable, emotions warring behind her eyes.

“Ileana,”

Elise continued, wiping her face.

“I know an apology will never be enough. Not for what we’ve done… what ‘I’ did. But I am sorry.”

Ileana’s voice was hoarse.

“Is that why you called me here? To say you’re sorry?”

Elise shook her head quickly.

“No—no. I called you here to tell you the truth.”

Ileana frowned.

Elise reached for another cigarette, her fingers trembling as she held it between them.

“You might not remember this,”

she said quietly,

“but you followed me everywhere. There wasn’t a corner I could turn without my little girl behind me.”

A fragile laugh escaped her.

“You even followed me into the bathroom once, asking a million questions—only three years old.”

Ileana looked away.

“That must’ve gotten on your nerves.”

Elise shook her head.

“No. Quite the opposite. I loved it. I loved having a daughter. ‘You’ were my daughter.”

Her voice softened.

“Your brothers hung on every word Silas spoke. It was… nice, having someone who was just mine.”

Ileana turned back to her, eyes sharp.

“Then why did you replace me?”

Elise froze. The cigarette burned down between her fingers, forgotten. Fresh tears spilled over.

“That’s not—”

She stopped, breath hitching.

“I can’t lie anymore.”

She drew in a shaky breath.

“I had an addiction. Pain pills. It started after a back injury. The medication was prescribed, but… it got out of hand.”

Ileana’s breath caught.

“Did you get help?”

Elise shook her head slowly, tears dripping onto the steel table.

“Not soon enough. Your fath—Silas—was afraid of people finding out. Afraid it would bring shame to the Thorne name. He’d just landed a huge project—”

Ileana’s expression hardened. Silas. Always the family reputation.

“That day,”

Elise continued, voice barely above a whisper,

“before the earthquake… I put you down for a nap. I was anxious. Having one of my fits. I only meant to take a few pills to calm down while you slept, but… a few became six. And I had wine. I passed out.”

Ileana’s fingers curled into her palms.

“I didn’t realize the door was open. Didn’t know I’d locked the bedroom. You must’ve gone looking for me when you woke up.”

A memory surfaced violently.

“The funny cart.”

Elise’s head snapped up.

“What did you say?”

Tears streamed down Ileana’s face.

“I was hungry. I woke up and couldn’t find you. I thought you went to the funny cart—the one that made sweet cakes.”

Elise’s lips trembled.

“I used to take you there. The vendor made balloon animals. You always called it the funny cart.” Her voice cracked. “You… you remembered that?”

Ileana nodded, tears blurring her vision. Images flooded back—walks in the park, warm hands, laughter, her mother’s smile.

“You must’ve gotten lost,”

Elise whispered.

“Trying to find me.”

Ileana wiped her face.

“So after that… you panicked and decided to bring in my replacement?”

“No!”

Elise cried.

“We searched for you. For over two weeks. Every hospital. Silas hired his best private investigator. We couldn’t find you anywhere.”

Ileana’s expression was cold.

“Did you post flyers? Call the police? Ask neighbors for help?”

Elise hesitated.

“Silas said we couldn’t. That if people found out how you went missing—”

Ileana scoffed. She didn’t need the rest.

Elise’s voice dropped, thick with guilt.

“By the second week, Silas panicked. The police were beginning to verify households—trying to identify victims from the earthquake.”

She swallowed hard.

“I thought his fear was mine—that someone would come tell us our daughter had been found… dead.”

The word caught in her throat.

“But that wasn’t what scared him. He was afraid we’d have to admit you were missing. That it would raise questions.” Her voice turned bitter. “So he came up with a solution.”

Ileana heard the acid in her tone.

“He said the boys needed their mother. That ‘he’ needed his wife. I believed him. I agreed to let him bring home another child in your place.”

Elise closed her eyes.

“He promised we wouldn’t stop looking for you.”

She wiped her tears.

“She had your smile. When I first saw her, I wanted to hate her—keep my distance—but she had ‘your’ smile. I thought the gods were giving me another chance. Another chance to be a good mother.”

Her voice twisted with disgust.

“I didn’t know the reason she had your smile… was because you shared a father.”

The words struck Ileana like a blade.

‘Shared a father?’

Her world tilted. Her hands shook.

“Are you saying—”

“Yes.”

Elise’s face hardened, fury burning through her grief.

“Rachel is Silas’ biological daughter.”