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Josh frowned, suddenly alert. “Wait–do you think she’s going to Phoebe’s room?”
Phoebe had just been discharged from the hospital. She was out on a photo shoot today, not home.
But she’d made herself right at home in Estela’s bedroom, with no hesitation, no shame.
Estela pushed open the door–and was immediately hit with an overwhelming wave of perfume that made her wrinkle her nose.
The warm, familiar bedroom she once called her own had been completely transformed: luxury furniture, glossy lacquered walls, bright and modern–but soulless.
The only thing that hadn’t changed was the photo frame on the desk.
A family portrait.
Only now, the woman smiling beside Vance. was Phoebe.
Estela picked up the photo album, her hands trembling.
Just then, a small figure came crashing into her, slamming into her belly with a thud.
“Mom! How could you go into Phoebe’s room when she’s not here? And touch her things? That’s so rude!” Josh yelled, full of outrage.
Estela clutched her stomach, the pain blooming hot–and icy anger rising in her chest.
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“This is my room, Josh,” she said, voice strained.
Rowena ran in right behind him. “But you’re divorcing Dad! You don’t want us anymore! That means you’re not part of the Leon family. This room isn’t yours!”
Pain shot through Estela’s chest.
‘Unbelievable. Five years of love and effort–this is what I have to show for it. Two ungrateful little brats,‘ she thought.
She braced herself against the dresser, breathing hard, then looked up at the painting still hanging on the wall.
At least Vance hadn’t gone so far as to let Phoebe take the painting to her set. If he had, Estela might’ve completely lost it.
She stepped closer, jaw clenched, dragged a stool over, and climbed up to take the painting down.
“Mom, stop!” Josh shouted, shaking the stool hard. “That’s Phoebe’s! You can’t touch it!”
Rowena screamed and ran up behind her, grabbing her waist and trying to pull her down.
In the struggle, Estela’s aching back twisted, sharp pain shooting through her spine.
She lost her balance.
To protect the painting, she fell straight to the floor with a loud crash.
Glass shattered–splinters flying in all directions.
The kids jumped back instinctively, frozen in place.
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There she was–lying in a pool of blood, motionless.
Stunned, they couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.
The loud crash drew Vance in.
He burst through the doorway–and froze at the sight of Estela lying there, surrounded by shards of glass and blood.
“What the hell happened?”
Rowena, trembling, nudged her brother in panic.
Josh, wide–eyed and scared, lied without thinking. “She climbed up to take the painting. and slipped.”
Vance scooped Estela into his arms, furious. He yanked the painting from her grasp and hurled it across the room.
‘All this–for a damn painting? Was it worth it?”
But the only answer was her pale face, her eyes closed, lips bloodless.
A chill crept into his chest–real fear.
“Estela,” he whispered hoarsely, “if you dare die on me, I swear–I’ll make sure you and your parents never see each other, even in the afterlife!”
Vance had lost count of how many times he’d walked through the doors of this hospital lately.
“The impact was to the back of her head,” the doctor explained. “And the glass barely grazed her eyelid. If it had cut just a little deeper, she would’ve lost her left eye.”
Vance stood still, his expression unreadable, eyes dark and cold.
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Estela’s eyes had always been her most beautiful feature.
Striking without being gaudy–sometimes sultry, sometimes pure. The kind of eyes you remembered after just one glance.
And now Estela had nearly ruined them. over a painting.
‘Is it worth it?‘
*****
The moment Phoebe wrapped up her shoot, she heard the news: Estela had been injured.
Before long, Rowena and Josh came to her, hand in hand, panic written all over their faces. They confessed everything–how Estela had really ended up in the hospital.
After hearing the full story, Phoebe could barely contain her delight.
‘Oh, Estela. you really raised a pair of gems, didn’t you?‘ she thought.
Still, she kept her face serious, putting on a show of sternness.
did really “Rowena, Josh. I can’t cover for you this time. What you wasn’t right.”
“But we didn’t mean to!” Rowena cried, burying her face in Phoebe’s arms. “We just knew you really liked that painting, so we didn’t let Mommy take it. We didn’t know she’d fall!”
Phoebe’s smile faltered for a second–not out of guilt, but fear. ‘Idiots. They almost dragged me down with them,‘ she thought.
She’d clawed her way up to where she was now. She wouldn’t let anything–or anyone–jeopardize it.
“Don’t worry,” she said gently, lowering her voice. “Here’s what we’re
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going to do. You’re going to go back to Zrefast. Visit your great- grandfather for a while.”
