Laurel P.O.V
Dinner with my mom tasted like the past,like all the things I threw away and all the things I can never get back.
Mom kept smiling at me in that gentle,motherly way I had forgotten.The way that made me wonder how I ever walked away from her.
When she told me we were going to church immediately after eating, I didn't argue.
Maybe God was the only place left for someone as broken as me.
We were clearing the plates when a sharp knock rattled the old wooden door.
I wiped my hands nervously and walked toward the door.
My heartbeat felt loud,too loud.
When I opened it,a slender woman stood there.Slender, but strong-looking. Her clothes were tomboyish—black cargo pants, thick boots, a loose shirt that didn't hide her broad shoulders. Her posture screamed confidence like she wasn't afraid of anything on this earth.
Her face was striking,not pretty, not soft,just…strong. A robust jawline,sharp eyes that felt like they were reading every secret I ever had.
She also had a tattoo curling down her neck.
Dark. Bold.
But something about it didn't click in my mind yet.
Mom rolled toward the door with surprising excitement.
"Abigail! You came"
There was warmth in Mom's voice that twisted something inside me.
Warmth she used to have for me.
Warmth I ran away from.
Abigail bowed slightly. "Good evening, ma'am"
"You've eaten?" Abigail asked her.
"Of course" Mom replied,smiling proudly. "I ate with Laurel"
Abigail's eyes slid back to me.She studied me like I was a problem she needed to solve.Then she smiled politely,but something cold lingered behind it.
Mom introduced us.
"Laurel,this is Abigail.She helps me a lot"
Helps her? A lot? Since when? Why didn't I know?
Before I could process the discomfort building in my chest,Mom said:
"We're going to church. Come with us, Abigail"
Abigail nodded,walking inside like she had lived here forever.
We went out of the house and boarded a taxi.
Mom's wheelchair was folded and placed in the trunk while Abigail carefully helped her into the taxi.
I slid into the seat beside the window, staring out at the dark road.The streetlights passed like ghosts.
Silent. Cold.
Just like my life.
"Mom…" I whispered.
She turned to me.
"How did you meet Abigail?"
Mom answered without hesitation.
"She's been the one taking care of me.Ever since you left"
The words stabbed me—sharp and unforgiving.
Ever since you left.
So Abigail filled the space where I should've been.
I swallowed hard. "I just…I just don't trust easily anymore"
Mom snapped before I even finished.
"I NEVER suspected you, Laurel! Not even once.So you will NOT suspect someone who has done nothing but help me.Do you hear me?"
Her voice cracked with disappointment.
Abigail gently rested her hand on Mom's shoulder. Mom turned to her,not me and began talking again.
Laughing.
Telling her stories.
Ignoring me like I was the outsider.
I stared out of the window and blinked back every burning tear.
I deserved this.
I left.
And someone else replaced me—someone stronger, someone who stayed.
---
AT THE CHURCH
The church was crowded when we entered.Warm lights, murmuring voices, and old hymns humming through the speakers.
Abigail handled Mom's wheelchair like she was born to do it.
I walked in behind them.
Dressed in luxury.
Expensive heels.
Designer bag.
Jewelry that sparkled even under weak church lights.
The contrast was ugly.
Too loud.
Too obvious.
People stared.
Women whispered.
Men narrowed their eyes.
"Who is she?"
"Look at her clothes…"
"Is that really your daughter?"
Mom sighed, embarrassed, but she nodded each time.
"Yes.Laurel is my daughter"
Their surprise stung.
Everything about me screamed outsider.
Lost child.
Mistake.
The more they stared, the smaller I felt.
During prayer,I couldn't concentrate. Every whisper, every glance felt like a stab.The weight of my past pressed on my chest until I couldn't breathe.
I had to leave their mist for peace, somewhere quiet.
Finally, I slipped away to the restroom.
The tiles were cold.
The mirrors were huge.
The silence felt heavy.
I stared at my reflection—at the makeup hiding my exhaustion, at the wealth hiding my sins, at the girl who had become everything she once promised she'd never be.
I ran my fingers down my cheeks,over the scars only I knew existed inside.
If I went back to the mansion…If I returned to the city…If the mafia ever find me…
I would die.
The thought made my hands tremble.
I didn't even hear the door at first.
A soft click.
Then slow, deliberate footsteps walked in.
It was Abigail.
She closed the door with a calmness that chilled the room.
"Laurel" She said softly.
I turned and froze.
She reached behind her waist and pulled out a gun.
My blood went cold.
She pressed a finger to an earphone hidden in her hair and said.
"Scorpioni, l'obiettivo è stato raggiunto"
(TRANSLATION: Scorpions, the target has been secured)
Before I could scream,four tall men in black suits stepped in behind her.
Silent.
Dead-eyed.
Deadly.
Panic strangled me.
I stumbled backwards and rushed into one of the toilet stalls,slamming the door and locking it.
"Laurel Mondaris" Abigail called.Her calmness was terrifying.
"You have ten seconds to come out...while I'm still willing to be gentle"
I shook violently,pressing my back against the wall.
"No…" I whispered.
She sighed.
Then her voice sharpened like a knife.
"Analizzalo"
(TRANSLATION: Break it down)
The men obeyed instantly.
Their boots slammed into the door.
Once.
Twice.
Three times—
The door splintered.
I climbed onto the toilet seat,reaching for the tiny window.My fingers clawed at the edges,desperate.
The door crashed open.
I tried to pull myself up.But then,a gunshot exploded.
Pain tore through my leg.Hot pain that was slowly blinding.
I collapsed onto the floor.
Abigail walked forward calmly, crouched beside me and tilted her head.
"Ti avevo avvertito!" She whispered.
(TRANSLATION: I warned you!)
Tears poured down my face.
I couldn't breathe.
Couldn't think.
Two men grabbed my arms.
Another tied my wrists behind me—tight enough to burn.
A fourth injected something cold into my skin.
I whimpered,shaking.
"Please…my mom…please don't hurt her…"
Abigail stood,her expression was unreadable.
"Nessuno deve toccare sua madre.Siamo qui solo per il bersaglio"
(TRANSLATION: No one must touch her mom.We are only here for the target)
The world tilted sideways.
My vision blurred.
My body grew heavy.
My breath slowed.
Abigail's voice fainted into a distant hum:
"Prendetela.Cancellate ogni traccia"
(TRANSLATION: Take her.Clear every trace)
The last thing I felt was the floor beneath me and a drop of my own tear falling across my lips before the darkness swallowed me whole.
And then—
Nothing.