Chapter 63 Lost in Hell
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“I wouldn’t listen! Every single year, I spent endless time, money, and energy searching for you because I wanted to make things right, because I refused to give up even the smallest bit of hope! That’s what being a mother means! You were part of me, carried inside me for nine long months!
“But was I wrong? Was it all a mistake? How could you turn out like this? I never dreamed … I brought an enemy into my own home!”
ir’s voice was rough, desperate, breaking through the air.
Her eyes were bloodshot, filled with tears she refused to let fall.
This wasn’t an act to get sympathy.
Even as she spoke, a cold dread spread through her chest.
Why<i>? </i>
<i>Why </i>is <i>my </i><i>daughter</i><i>–</i>the one I’d <i>searched </i>for, <i>the </i>one I’d <i>lost </i><i>for </i><i>19 </i><i>years</i>–now <i>stabbing </i><i>my </i><i>heart </i>and <i>dragging </i><i>the </i>Jenson <i>name </i>through <i>the </i><i>mud</i><i>? </i>
<i>Why </i>would fate y <i>such </i>a cruel<i>, </i>twisted joke on <i>me</i><i>? </i>
<i>If </i>everything copses the <i>way </i><i>I </i><i>fear</i>, it will <i>be </i><i>because </i>of <i>her</i>.
She herself set <i>the </i><i>stage</i><i>. </i>
She <i>will </i>be <i>the </i><i>Jensons</i>‘ biggest <i>enemy</i><i>. </i>
Andy stopped walking.
His brows knit together slightly.
He nced sideways at Tilda, uneasy.
He didn’t know the full story between her and the Jensons, but the way Tilda brushed it off so casually made one thing clear: ir’s perfect, sugar–coated version of the family wasn’t real.
The Jensons hadn’t given Tilda love. They’d given her betrayal so raw that it made her see through the lie of “family.” She had left, and she had thrived without them.
<i>Her </i><i>words </i>now <i>feel </i>like <i>emotional </i><i>ckmail</i>.
<i>But </i><i>still</i>… she’s <i>Tilda’s </i><i>biological </i><i>mother</i><i>. </i>
Wouldn’t words <i>that </i>harsh sting, <i>even </i><i>just </i><i>a </i><i>little</i><i>? </i>
Tilda seemed to notice Andy’s worried gaze.
She tilted her head and gave him a small, quick smile.
A silent message, telling him she was fine.
Chapter 63 Lost in Hell
Because to her, this kind of humiliation wasn’t new.
She’d already survived worse, wounds ten times deeper.
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Like when Wade humiliated her and forced her to cut off her beloved long hair, then turned around and praised K’s flowing locks right in front of her.
He crushed her small, fragile hunger for affection under his heel.
That was only a drizzle in the storm the Jensons had poured on her.
Tilda turned to ir, her eyes cutting cold and sharp.
It was so cold that ir froze.
And in that gaze, ir saw something alien. Something she didn’t recognize.
No trace of shared blood.
No trace of a mother–daughter connection.
Even ir’s usualmanding aura as a mother began to fade.
What rose up instead … was fear.
“ir, now you want to y the mother card on me, huh?
AK
“You say you fought against everyone for years just to find me, your words dressed up so noble they could make strangers cry. Then tell me why was it that when you finally brought me back into the mansion, you acted as if I were invisible?
“You clung to K every day, doting on her, while your own daughter–your flesh and blood, missing for 19 years–wasn’t even worth a nce, a shred of guilt, not even the smallest drop of love. I lived in that house like I mattered less than K’s pet!
“Two weeks. A whole two weeks! And you never once asked if I was sleeping well, if I wasfortable, if I even liked the food. What kind of mother is that? The love for me you brag about–I never saw it. Not once.”
Her words burned like fire, but her voice stayed steady and calm.
The weight of her presence froze ir from the inside out.
Without realizing it, ir was the one pushed down, cornered beneath her daughter’s dominance.
And the worst part … Tilda’s words were facts.
Undeniable, crushing facts she didn’t know how to face. <fn2762> Latest content published on find[?]ovel</fn2762>
“Tilda, you’re wrong… I just… You came back so suddenly, so I panicked. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t know how to face you.
“But… I gave you a home, didn’t I? I gave you family, I gave you love–aren’t those the things you wanted all along?<b>” </b>
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Chapter 63 Lost in Hell
Even Tilda blinked in disbelief.
<i>Family</i>?
<i>Love</i>?
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<i>Did </i><i>she </i><i>really </i><i>just </i><i>say </i><i>she </i>didn’t know <i>how </i><i>to </i><i>face </i><i>her </i><i>own </i><i>daughter</i><i>–</i><i>the </i>daughter who <i>had </i><i>been </i>missing for 19 <i>years</i>, <i>who </i><i>came </i><i>back </i><i>desperate </i><i>for </i>warmth<i>, </i><i>who </i><i>clipped </i><i>her </i><i>own </i>wings and <i>hid </i><i>her </i>gifts <i>just </i>to <i>carefully</i><i>, </i><i>painfully </i><i>earn </i><i>approval</i><i>? </i>
<i>Then </i>why bring me <i>back </i><i>at </i><i>all</i><i>? </i>
<i>Why y </i><i>the </i><i>hero </i>who “<i>saved</i>” me, <i>insisting </i><i>on </i>giving me <i>a </i><i>chance</i>, <i>only </i><i>to </i><i>abandon </i><i>me </i><i>once </i><i>I </i><i>stepped </i><i>into </i><i>the </i><b><i>house</i></b><i>? </i>
<i>Maybe </i><i>if </i><i>I </i><i>had </i><i>never </i><i>gone </i><i>back</i>, <i>if </i><i>I </i><i>had </i><i>never </i><i>set </i><i>foot </i><i>in </i><i>the Jenson </i><i>Vi</i><i>, </i><i>my </i><ist </i><i>life </i><i>would </i><i>have </i><i>been </i><i>happier</i>.
<i>I </i>wouldn’t <i>have </i><i>burned </i><i>to </i><i>death </i><i>ot </i><i>been </i><i>broken </i><i>into </i><i>pieces </i><i>by </i><i>my </i>so<i>–</i><i>called </i><i>family</i><i>. </i>
Tilda almost admired ir’s shamelessness.
How <i>have </i>I not <i>seen </i>it <i>before</i><i>? </i>
How <i>have </i>I <i>not </i><i>realized </i><i>ir </i>is <i>this </i><i>bold </i><i>and </i><i>maniptive</i>? <i>After </i><i>all</i><i>, </i>in <i>my </i><ist </i><i>life</i><i>, </i><i>every </i><i>time </i><i>I </i><i>thought </i><i>about </i><i>giving </i><i>up</i><i>, </i><i>every </i><i>time </i>I was bleeding from <i>their </i><i>cruelty</i><i>, </i><i>half</i><i>–</i><i>dead</i><i>, </i>drowning <i>in </i><i>depression</i><i>, </i><i>even </i><i>cutting pain </i><i>into </i><i>my </i>own skin
It <i>was ir</i><i>. </i><i>ir</i><i>, </i><i>with </i><i>her </i><i>tears</i><i>, </i><i>her </i>sweet <i>words</i><i>, </i>luring <i>me </i><i>back</i><i>. </i><i>ir</i><i>, </i>like <i>a </i><i>devil’s </i><i>messenger</i><i>, </i><i>dragged </i><i>me </i><i>back </i><i>into </i><i>the </i>pit with <i>invisible </i><i>hands</i><i>, </i><i>deeper </i><i>and </i><i>deeper</i><i>, </i><i>until </i><i>I </i><i>was </i><i>lost </i><i>in </i><i>hell </i><i>again</i>.
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Out of the Shadows: Tilda’s Brilliant Second Life