After that day, it was like Jimmy and Martha suddenly had some kind of awakening.
First came the overly concerned phone calls, then the parenting advice they insisted on giving me.
Alexander kept showing up too, never stepping inside–just standing outside the estate, silently watching me.
All that guilt and compensation–late and no longer needed–crashed over me like a flood, and it got under my skin.
When Martha called again, I finally snapped.
“If those two paternity tests hadn’t come out, would you even bother to see me?
“If Laura hadn’t manipulated you like that, would you have ever looked at me twice?”
“Lynn, I…” Martha’s voice was hoarse.
“I believe you would’ve done anything for Laura–even pushed me off a building, even caused me to lose my baby.
“And now, I believe that after finding out I’m your biological daughter, you’re just as willing to hurt others again—just to earn my forgiveness.
“But do you really think all of that just disappears because I forgive you? Do you think forgiveness can make every- thing look okay again?”
There was a long silence on the other end of the line.
I didn’t want to say another word. And just as I hung up, I heard Martha whisper through tears, “I’m sorry.”
But that apology came far too late.
I didn’t need it anymore…
Two years later, my daughter Jessie started primary school.
That evening, when Kenneth came home from work, he brought news.
Martha had passed away–illness brought on by worry.
Before she died, she transferred the 130,000 dollars back into my account.
I just hadn’t noticed.
After her death, Jimmy was so devastated that he fell into a coma. When he woke up, he’d had a stroke.
As for Laura, Jack took her back–and this time, she truly felt what domestic violence was.
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She tried reaching out to Alexander for help, but he never responded.
In the past two years, she’d been covered in bruises–even lost a child from one of the beatings.
After hearing all that, I stayed quiet for a long time.
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“I’ve taken care of everything with your parents. They’re your biological parents, after all–but I won’t interfere more than necessary,” Kenneth said calmly, resting a hand on my shoulder.
I nodded but felt nothing.
This life I have–it was because of Kenneth.
The Harold family never paid me any attention, so of course, they didn’t know I once saved a dying Kenneth in a car accident.
He never stopped watching over me after that.
He warned me that Alexander wasn’t right for me, that my parents would never be the support I hoped for.
But back then, I was like a moth to a flame, desperate for even the smallest bit of attention.
Only after being crushed again and again did I finally see things clearly.
It was Kenneth who brought me back to the estate, who got me treatment, and who searched tirelessly for a matching kidney donor.
He helped me breathe again, and he helped me piece myself back together.
It was the elders of the Morris family who taught me everything–how to manage, how to lead, and how to take over the company bit by bit.
They helped me grow stronger.
The Harold family was never my home. This place… this is my real home.
I smiled faintly and let the thoughts go, then patted Kenneth.
“Jessie made a boy cry today,” I said. “Her teacher wants both of us to come in.”
“Oh? Sounds like our daughter’s pretty tough. She’ll probably brag about it when we get home.
“I’ve seen those boys in her class. A few of them are always starting something. Honestly, a good punch might’ve been overdue.”
“Kenneth! Stop being a bad influence on her!” I bickered with him like always.
All around us, the estate was full of lush green leaves and drifting butterflies.
The sunlight was warm.
Everything was just right.
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Chapter 8
The end.
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