Torn Between Destinies-Chapter 18 - Eighteen

The sky was still gray when I left Kiani sleeping in the hollow tree, bundled in the hoodie and blanket, clutching a crust of bread in her tiny fingers. I didn’t want to leave her. But I had no choice.

I had to go back for Aira.

I had to look her in the eyes and beg her to come with us.

The path back to the farmhouse seemed longer than before. Every step dragged like I was wading through water. My thoughts twisted, looped, tangled. What if she said no? What if she still didn’t remember me? What if—despite everything—she chose to stay?

I reached the edge of the clearing just as dawn bled into the sky.

The windows of the house were dark.

John hadn’t noticed Kiani was gone—yet.

I crept up to the side of the house, heart pounding, and tapped gently on the glass of the laundry room window. A soft rustling inside. Then footsteps. Slow, quiet, hesitant.

Aira’s face appeared.

Our eyes met through the pane.

And for the first time... I saw something flicker in her.

Recognition.

I held her gaze and mouthed one word: Please.

She hesitated, then unlatched the window and slid it open.

"Luciana," she whispered, as if tasting the name for the first time in years.

"Yes," I said. My throat tightened. "It’s me."

She reached out, touching my cheek with shaking fingers. "You look so much like her... like me."

"I am you," I said. "I’m your daughter."

She nodded, barely. "I thought... maybe I dreamed of you."

"I’m real. I’m here. And I found her. I found Kiani."

Aira’s breath caught. "She’s safe?"

"With me. In the woods. She’s waiting for you."

Tears welled in her eyes. She gripped the window frame like it was the only thing holding her up.

"I can’t believe you found her," she whispered. "I thought he—he said he’d—" Her voice broke. She pressed her palm to her mouth.

"You don’t have to stay here anymore," I said, urgency rising in me like a tide. "You don’t have to live like this. We can leave. Now. I have a plan. I have a way out."

She didn’t respond. Her eyes flicked toward the hallway.

"He’s asleep," I said. "You can come. Right now."

She shook her head, slow and mournful. "It’s not that simple."

"Yes, it is. You just have to want it."

"You think I don’t?" Her voice was still soft, but suddenly sharp. "You think I like this life? That I wanted to be trapped in this place, in this body, with him?"

"Then why won’t you come?"

"Because I’m not like you, Luciana." Her voice cracked. "I’m not brave anymore. I’m not strong. I’m—he broke me. He broke me a long time ago."

I reached through the window and grabbed her hands. "You are strong. You’ve kept Kiani alive all this time. You’ve survived. That takes strength."

She looked away, tears slipping down her cheeks.

"I can’t protect her anymore," she whispered. "He’s getting worse. And now she flinches when I touch her. Like I’m the one hurting her."

"You’re not," I said fiercely. "But if you stay, you will lose her."

She looked back at me.

"She needs you, Mama. We both do. Don’t let him win." ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

Aira pulled her hands free, backing away from the window. "I’m scared," she said. "You don’t understand what he’s capable of."

"I do," I said. "That’s why we have to go."

She wrapped her arms around herself, trembling.

"You think he won’t hunt us?" she asked. "You think he won’t come after us, after her?"

"Let him try," I said, fire rising in my chest. "I’ll protect you both. With everything I have."

Aira stared at me. For a second, I thought she might climb through the window.

But then—her eyes darkened.

She shook her head. "I can’t leave."

I felt something inside me collapse. "Why?"

"Because if I do, and he finds us—he’ll kill you."

"I’m not afraid of him."

"You should be."

"Not more than I’m afraid of losing you."

She turned away, pressing her forehead to the wall. Her voice came out as a whisper. "I’ve lived with fear so long it’s the only thing I trust."

I didn’t speak. My throat was too tight.

She turned back to me. Her eyes were red, wet, hollow. "Take her, Luciana. Take Kiani and go. Get as far from here as you can. Give her the life I couldn’t."

"You’re coming with us."

"No," she said. "If I leave now, it’ll all fall apart. He’ll come after us with a gun, with rage, with bloodlust. But if I stay—maybe he won’t look. Maybe he’ll think I had nothing to do with it."

"You’d stay here with him just to buy us time?"

"I would," she said. "Because I’d rather suffer than see you die."

I reached out again, but she stepped back.

"You’re stronger than this," I said. "Don’t give up."

"I’m not giving up," she whispered. "I’m giving you a chance. That’s what mothers do."

My heart broke in slow, sharp pieces.

She opened a drawer and pulled something out. A small silver locket.

"I meant to give this to her one day," she said. "But you give it to her now."

I took it.

The metal was cold and dented. Inside was a photo—of her, younger, smiling with a baby in her arms.

Me.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you too. Please—just say you’ll try. Someday."

She hesitated. "Someday."

It wasn’t a promise. But it was a thread. A thread I’d hold onto with everything I had.

I slipped back into the woods, the locket tight in my fist.

Behind me, the window closed with a soft click.

Back at the tree, Kiani was still sleeping, her thumb pressed to her lips, the blanket tangled around her legs.

I sat beside her and watched the wind move the leaves overhead.

Aira was choosing to stay in hell to give us a chance.

It wasn’t right.

It wasn’t fair.

But it was the choice she made.

And I had to honor it.

I reached into my pocket, opened the locket, and placed it gently into Kiani’s palm.

She stirred slightly, her fingers curling around it in her sleep.

"I’ll keep you safe," I whispered.

"For her."

And for me.

Because I couldn’t lose anyone else.

Not again.