The mansion's grand entrance loomed before them, its imposing facade a testament to the family's wealth. Daniel pressed the doorbell, the chime echoing through the halls like a gentle warning.
Aria helped Jack settle into the wheelchair, his eyes fixed on the door with a mix of apprehension and determination.
The door swung open, revealing a woman with a familiar face - Mrs. Linda, Jack's biological mother. Her eyes lit up, and she rushed toward Jack, arms open wide.
"My son.." she exclaimed, her voice trembling.
But Jack's expression turned cold, his eyes flashing with anger. He raised a hand, palm outward, halting her approach.
Mrs. Linda's face fell, confusion etched on her features.
"Where were you when I needed you the most?" Jack spat, his voice venomous.
Mrs. Hilda, standing beside Daniel, flinched at the hurt in Jack's words. Her eyes welled up, her face pale.
"Only Mrs. Hilda was there for me," Jack continued, his anger boiling over. "She's the only one I consider a mom."
Mrs. Hilda's smile trembled, tears shining in her eyes. She took a step forward, as if to intervene, but Jack's words cut her off.
Mrs. Linda's face contorted in anger, her eyes blazing. She spun on her heel, storming into the mansion.
"Linda, wait!" Mr. Edward, Jack's biological father, called out, his voice firm.
He followed his wife upstairs, his face darkening.
The tension was palpable, heavy as the silence that followed.
Daniel, Ivy, and the others exchanged shocked glances, unsure how to react.
Aria's eyes remained fixed on Jack, her expression sympathetic.
Jack turned to Mrs. Hilda, his voice accusatory. "You called them, didn't you?"
Mrs. Hilda nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I did, Jack. I'm sorry."
But Jack's expression remained unyielding, his jaw clenched.
"Take me upstairs, Aria," he said, his voice flat.
Aria pushed the wheelchair forward, Jack's silence heavy.
As they ascended the stairs, Mrs. Hilda's tears flowed freely. She stood alone in the sitting room, her shoulders shaking.
Regret etched on her face, her eyes cast downward.
The mansion's opulence seemed hollow, its grandeur diminished by the weight of secrets and lies.
Aria glanced back, witnessing Mrs. Hilda's anguish.
Mrs. Hilda's hands covered her face, her body racked with sobs.
The truth had finally surfaced.
Aria wandered the mansion's halls, her footsteps echoing off the walls. She stumbled upon a door she had never noticed before, its presence hidden behind a tapestry.
Curiosity piqued, Aria turned the handle and pushed the door open.
A pink-hued room unfolded before her was its interior design, pink in colour.
Aria's heart skipped a beat.
The walls were painted a soft pink, adorned with delicate floral patterns.
A crib stood in the center, surrounded by toys and baby clothes.
Aria's eyes landed on a painting above the crib – a cute baby girl picture, surrounded by toys.
Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.
Memories flooded back.
She and Jack planning their baby's nursery, debating names.
Isabella, they had decided.
Their little girl, lost too soon, Aria's composure crumbled.
She clutched her stomach, as if holding onto the pain.
Sobs wracked her body.
She stumbled forward, hands outstretched, scattering every things in the room,
Toys scattered, clothes torn from shelves.
Aria's cries echoed through the room.
Grief unleashed, raw and unbridled.
Their dreams, shattered.
Their baby, gone, Aria's legs gave out.
She collapsed to the floor, surrounded by the remnants of their unborn child's life.
Tears streamed down her face.
Her body shook.
The room, once a wonderful moments, now a haunting reminder.
Of what could never be, Aria's cries slowly faded, she pushed herself up.
Stumbled out of the room.
Leaving behind the shattered remains.
Of their shattered dreams.
Leo turned the corner, his footsteps quiet on the mansion's plush carpet.
Aria emerged from a room, her face ravaged by tears.
Her eyes, red-rimmed and swollen, seemed to hold a thousand sorrows.
Leo's expression faltered, concern etching lines on his face.
He slowed his pace, his gaze locked on Aria's fragile form.
Aria's steps were mechanical, her body shrouded in a mantle of grief.
Leo's heart sank, his chest tightening.
He knew that room.
He had helped plan its surprise, For Aria and Jack.
For their baby's arrival.
But now...
Leah appeared beside him, her eyes mirroring his sorrow.
Her hand reached out, grasping Leo's shoulder.
"Leo," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Leo turned to her, his eyes searching for solace.
Shared grief reflected in their faces.
Leah's arms opened, enveloping Leo in a warm embrace.
Leo's shoulders sagged, his body yielding to the comfort.
Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.
He returned the hug, holding Leah tightly.
Together, they stood.
Witnesses to Aria's anguish.
The nursery's secrets lay bare.
Aria's sobs echoed through the hallway.
A heartbreaking melody.
Leo and Leah held each other.
Their tears fell.
Mrs. Linda's fingers clenched, grasping Mr. Edward's shirt.
Tears streamed down her face, her body shaking.
"Why, Jack?" she sobbed. "Why did he speak to me like that?"
Her voice cracked, anguish etched on her features.
Mr. Edward's arms enveloped her, holding her close.
"Shh, Linda," he whispered. "Don't worry. Everything will be fine."
But Mrs. Linda's tears continued, unstoppable.
She buried her face in his chest, her body wracked with sobs.
"I just want my son to hug me again," she wept. "To call me Mom."
Her voice broke, the pain raw.
Mr. Edward's hold tightened.
"He's hurting, Linda," he said softly. "Give him time."
But Mrs. Linda's sorrow was palpable.
She felt the weight of Jack's rejection.
The sting of his words.
"I've lost him," she whispered. "I've lost my son."
Mr. Edward's hands stroked her hair.
"No, Linda. You haven't lost him. He's just hurting."
His words offered comfort.
Daniel's footsteps echoed through the hallway as he caught up to Aria. Her pace slowed, and she turned to face him, tears still glistening in her eyes.
The faint smile on her lips faltered, and for a moment, Daniel saw the depth of her sorrow.
"Aria," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Aria's gaze met his, and Daniel felt the weight of his regret.
"I'm so sorry," he continued, his words tumbling out. "I should have been honest with you from the start."
Aria's expression softened, her eyes filling with a mix of sadness and understanding.
Daniel's hands hovered, as if wanting to reach out, but hesitating.
Aria's smile returned, fragile but reassuring.
"You don't have to apologize, Daniel," she said, her voice gentle.
Daniel's eyes narrowed, uncertainty etched on his face.
"There's nothing to forgive," Aria continued.
The words hung in the air, and Daniel's gaze searched hers, seeking clarification.
Aria's smile persisted, though her eyes still shone with unshed tears.
"Really, Daniel. You did what you thought was right," she said.
The tension in Daniel's shoulders eased, but his expression remained contrite.
Aria's gaze drifted away, and she turned to leave.
"Give me some time, okay?" she said over her shoulder.
Daniel watched her go, his eyes locked on her retreating form.
The hallway seemed to stretch on forever, empty and silent.
Daniel's chest felt heavy, his heart weighed down by unspoken emotions.
He knew Aria was hurting, He saw it in her eyes.
Daniel's hands slid into his pockets, his fingers curling into fists.
He would give her time, He would wait.
For the right moment, to apologize.
With a quiet resolve, Daniel turned away.
His footsteps echoed through the hallway.