Her mother's face froze, the lines of authority and disdain momentarily disrupted. She had expected resistance, perhaps tears or excuses, but not this "No."
For a second, the air between them seemed suspended, fragile as glass. Then her mother's brows knit together in disbelief. "No?" she repeated, her voice sharp, incredulous, as though Astrid had spoken in a foreign tongue.
Astrid's lips were dry, her heart racing so fast it threatened to leap from her chest. She hadn't planned it, hadn't thought through the consequences. The word had simply escaped her, a desperate anchor against the tide threatening to wash her away. Even now she didn't know if she had the strength to defend it.
Her mother's eyes narrowed, studying her like a puzzle she intended to solve. "You dare refuse? After everything you've done?"
Astrid lowered her gaze, her hands curling into fists at her sides. Memories clawed their way to the surface, unbidden, relentless. She saw herself as a child again, knees pressed into the floor, begging her mother not to leave. She remembered the cold indifference, the slamming door, the silence that followed. That emptiness had shaped her life, twisting her into the woman she became in her first world, the one who had fallen so far she thought death was the only escape.
Now, when she looked at Kayden, she saw herself,fragile, desperate, terrified of abandonment. The thought of leaving him, of letting him grow up believing he wasn't enough, tore something inside her.
"I regret it," Astrid whispered, the words trembling as they fell. She lifted her head slowly, forcing her gaze to meet her mother's. "I regret not being a good mother. Not being a good wife. I… I want to change. I want another chance."
Her mother's expression did not soften. Instead, suspicion darkened her features, her lips curling into something almost cruel. "Another chance?" she repeated, voice laced with contempt. "You expect me to believe this is anything more than another of your schemes? Another way to drag the Moonstone family through humiliation?"
"No," Astrid said quickly, her voice more urgent now. "I'm serious. I won't hurt him. Not Kayden. I would never…"
Her mother's eyes blazed, silencing her. "Listen carefully, Emberly." She stepped forward, her presence looming, her tone sharp as a blade. "If you hurt that boy again, if you so much as think of abandoning him, I will deal with you myself. Daughter or not, I will not hesitate."
Astrid swallowed hard, her throat tight. The warning hung in the air, heavy and final. There was no mistaking the sincerity behind it. This was no empty threat.
The rest of the day passed in a strange blur, the tension never fully lifting. Kayden remained close to her side, as though afraid she would vanish if he let go. Her mother lingered in the house, a shadow that refused to leave, her sharp eyes watching, always judging.
By evening, Astrid's body ached with exhaustion, though her mind was far from rest. She slipped into the bathroom and filled the tub with warm water, the steam curling into the air. Lowering herself in, she let out a quiet sigh, the water enveloping her like a fragile cocoon. For a moment, it was the only place she felt shielded from the scrutiny of the world outside.
Her thoughts replayed the events of the day, each word, each glance, each threat echoing through her head. She leaned back, the warmth soothing her muscles but not her heart. Divorce. Regret. Another chance. The weight of those words clung to her like damp cloth, impossible to peel away.
When she finally rose from the bath, she wrapped herself in a robe and stepped to the mirror. She dabbed at the wound on her wrist, the one that marked Emberly's despair, and carefully bandaged it anew. Her reflection stared back at her, pale and fragile under the dim light. She studied each freckle, each line of Emberly's face, as though searching for herself beneath it all.
She tried again to summon Emberly's memories, to piece together fragments of her life, but the blur remained. It was like trying to reach through fog, her fingers closing on nothing.
Her gaze drifted across the room, settling on a large portrait that hung above the dresser. It was Kyle and Kayden together, captured in a moment of rare warmth. Kyle's arm rested protectively around his son, both of them smiling faintly. But something struck her immediately. There was no Emberly.
Not in this portrait. Not in any of the house. Astrid searched her memory of every hallway she had walked, every room she had entered. Not a single image of Emberly adorned these walls. The thought unsettled her, a question pressing into her chest. Why? Why erase her? It was a mystery she didn't yet have the strength to unravel.
A soft knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.
"Madame," a voice whispered.
The door cracked open, and the same servant who had helped her days ago stepped inside. She was young, perhaps no older than twenty, with wide dark eyes and a posture so stiff it looked painful. Her hands clutched at a bundle of clothing, pressed tightly against her chest.
Astrid turned slightly, curious.
The girl lowered her head deeply, refusing to make eye contact. "The suits of Mr. Moonstone, Madame," she said softly. "From the dry cleaner."
Astrid watched her closely. The girl's body was rigid, every movement precise and controlled. Fear radiated from her, though Astrid had said nothing yet.
At first, Astrid simply nodded, dismissing her with a wave. But as the girl set the suits carefully on the dresser, a thought crossed Astrid's mind. Perhaps this was an opportunity. Perhaps the servants, always so silent and watchful, knew things she didn't. Secrets Emberly had left behind.
She shifted her stance, softening her tone deliberately. "Thank you," Astrid said, her voice gentle. "You've been working hard."
The servant froze, her shoulders tensing. She dipped her head lower, as though unsure whether to respond.
Astrid hesitated, then tried again. "Tell me—how long have you been here? With this family?"
The girl's breath hitched audibly. Her hands twisted together, knuckles white. "A few years, Madame," she said quickly, her voice trembling.
Astrid stepped closer, lowering her tone to something warm, conspiratorial. "You must know them well, then. Kyle. Kayden. Even… me." She forced a smile, though inside her stomach twisted. "What do you think of me?"
The reaction was immediate. Panic flashed in the girl's eyes. Her breaths quickened, shallow, as though the walls had begun to close in. She stammered, unable to form words. Astrid lifted a hand gently, trying to calm her.
"It's all right," she murmured. "I won't be angry. I just want to understand. You can tell me."
But the girl's teror only deepened. Her lips trembled, her entire body stiff as a board. Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead.
Astrid frowned. "Are you afraid of me?" she asked softly.
The servant's eyes darted to her face, wide with something close to horror. Then, without another word, she dropped into a quick bow, spun on her heel, and fled the room.
The door slammed shut behind her.
Astrid stood frozen, staring at the empty doorway. The sound of footsteps fading down the hall echoed like retreating thunder.
She had tried to be gentle, tried to coax, but the girl had looked at her as though she had seen a ghost.
And Astrid, left standing in silence, couln't shake the chilling thought that maybe she had