Chapter 17: Echoes of the void
1226 Words
~Isabella’s POV~
It always begins the same.
Darkness.
Thick, suffocating darkness that wraps around me like a wet shroud, pulling me under. But it wasn’t the quiet kind of darkness.
Rather, it screamed.
I’m weightless, yet I feel every inch of pain, shame, and betrayal pressing down on me like anchors strapped to my chest.
“Sign the papers, Melissa.”
“You’re no longer my responsibility.”
Robert’s voice pierces the void, venomous and cold.
I spun wildly. My feet found no ground. My hands reached for nothing. Another voice joined in, “You were never enough for this family.”
Tessa’s haughty laugh came next, echoing from behind me, sharp as glass.
“You brought this on yourself!”
Jackie’s face flashes in the dark, twisted with hate, then.......
Suddenly, I was in the car again. Rain pelting the windshield. Screeching tires. Screaming brakes.
“No!”
The baby. The sound of an infant’s cry.....the faint, heart wrenching wail of a child that never got the chance to live.
My baby.
Then....impact.
The sound of crushing metal. My own scream strangled in my throat. And silence.
I gasped as I shot up in bed, drenched in sweat. My chest heaved as though I’d just run through hell and barely made it out. My trembling fingers clawed at the sheets, seeking something......anything, to ground me.
God.
It had been weeks since I last had one of those dreams, and this… this one felt worse.
Harsher. Stronger. Crueler. and more vivid.
Maybe because I had been forced to come back into the orbit of the Mondragons, those wretched people who never truly saw me as one of their own. I was a ghost of who I once was, and somehow, they were still haunting me.
I swung my legs off the bed, the cold tiles grounding me a little as I rushed to the bathroom, knees nearly buckling beneath me.
The second I reached the sink, I doubled over and threw up, bile burning its way up my throat. I clung to the porcelain for dear life as another wave of nausea rolled through me.
When it passed, tears pricked the corners of my eyes as I turned on the tap, and splashed cold water over my face again and again, as if that could wash away the memories.
But it never leaves me.
My eyes lifted to the mirror. The woman staring back still startled me sometimes. Different face, same pain. The world had taken everything, my identity, my family, my marriage….and one of my children.
My fingers drifted down, almost instinctively and found my stomach. I held it, gently, like I used to when they were both still in there.
Tariq. My miracle. My little survivor.
And the twin I lost.
A tear slipped down my cheek as I whispered, “I’m sorry.” so low I barely heard it myself. “I should have protected you”.
If only things had been different.
If only that night hadn’t happened.
If only…
Tap. Tap.
A soft knock pulled me out of the spiral. I blinked and glanced at the digital clock beside my bed. 3:04 A.M.
“Who could that be, at this hour?” I wondered.
I grabbed a robe and tiptoed toward the door. Opening it slowly, I blinked in surprise when I saw a small figure in blue pajamas standing there, clutching a teddy bear.
“Tariq?” I whispered, kneeling before him. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Why are you out of bed?”
He rubbed his sleepy eyes with the back of his hand. “I had a bad dream,” he murmured. “Can I sleep with you?”
My chest tightened. I opened my arms instantly. “Of course you can, my love.”
He stepped into my arms without hesitation, and I carried him back into bed with me, pulling the covers over us both. He curled into my side, his tiny fingers gripping the fabric of my nightgown. I stroked his hair and began humming an old lullaby, one I barely remembered my mother singing to me when I was little. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough. Enough to slow his breathing, enough to ease his trembling limbs.
Just when I thought he had drifted off, his little voice broke the stillness.
“Mama?”
“Yes, baby?”
“Where’s my daddy?”
My hand paused mid-stroke. My body went still.
I stared at the ceiling, trying to keep my breath steady. The question I had avoided for two years had finally found its way out. And I hadn’t prepared for it.....not now, not like this.
Why now, Tariq?
Why when everything’s falling apart again?
I swallowed hard. “Why do you ask?”
“I saw my friend’s daddy today. He brought cupcakes to school. And he looked just like him. Do I look like my daddy too?”
That question….it hit like a punch to the gut.
I turned slightly to face him, his eyes blinking up at me, so innocent, so full of hope.
I didn’t want to lie. I didn’t want to shatter his curiosity. But I also knew I couldn’t tell him the truth, not now. Maybe not ever.
So I said the only thing that felt safe. The only version that might keep us safe.
“He’s… he’s not here anymore, baby,” I whispered, brushing his cheek with my thumb. “Your daddy passed away a long time ago. Before you were born.”
His face fell. “So I’ll never get to meet him?”
“No,” I replied, my voice tight and dry. “But he would’ve loved you very much.”
I kissed his forehead and tucked him closer, and he didn’t ask anything more after that.
But I felt it.
The guilt. The weight of my half-truths pressing down on me like bricks.
I had just buried Robert Mondragon in my son’s mind.
But wasn’t that the only way to keep us safe? To protect Tariq from the toxic legacy of the Mondragons?
Still….a small, quiet voice whispered: “You’ll regret this one day.”
Maybe.
But that day wasn’t today.
Because today, I was his everything and he was mine.
As I stared at the ceiling again, listening to the quiet, steady breathing of my boy beside me, my thoughts returned to the man who had unknowingly fathered this child.
Would Robert recognize him if he ever saw him?
Would he care?
Would he dare rip Tariq from me like he did everything else?
I shut my eyes, trying to chase the thought away, but it lingered like a shadow.
Just as I turned to pull the covers up over Tariq again, a ping chimed from my phone on the nightstand.
I picked it up, the screen glowing in the dim room.
1 New Message from Dante Romero.
“We need to meet. Later today. It’s important.”
I stared at the message.
My pulse quickened.
Just when I thought the night couldn’t hold more surprises. It seems fate had other plans.
Because why did this feel like the start of something even more dangerous than all I’d already survived?
One which I was still uncertain I was ready for.
But all I could do was to trust the unknown.
- Writer
