Chapter 13
663words
It was not just about York's dirty tricks—kidnapping, pushing Susanna's father until his death, and paying off a truck driver to fake a DUI and take me out. The leak exposed even more—rich kids involved in horrific crimes like hurting children and locking up women like they were toys.
The stock market crashed for these families, and the internet exploded with outrage. However, they had too much influence, and just as quickly as the storm hit, it began to fade. Their names no longer appeared in headlines.
Even York got off easy. A few questions, a slap on the wrist, and then it was back to business as usual. And somehow, Susanna bought it—she believed the lie that York had been framed by some rival. They went right back to their picture-perfect life, acting like nothing had ever happened.
However, every night after York was dead asleep, Susanna would slip out to the balcony. She would stand there for hours, staring up at the night sky, her expression heavy with something unspoken. When the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, she would return inside.
Meanwhile, my family had begun to heal. After weeks of rest and charity-funded treatment, they were getting better.
Dad was recovering, walking the hospital gardens more often. Yvan's fingers were almost fully healed, and he had picked up his brush again, painting with the same confidence he once had. Mom, though still emotional when she talked about me, had more good days than bad now.
Everything seemed to be looking up.
Then, as I floated through the hospital one morning, I spotted Susanna talking to my dad. The sight sent a knot twisting in my gut. What was she doing? Was this more revenge?
I edged closer and saw their faces—calm, but tinged with sadness.
"You've done everything you could," Dad said with a sigh, his voice heavy. He gave Susanna's shoulder a gentle pat. "They've always had the upper hand. This… is as good as it's going to get."
Susanna shook her head, her eyes fierce with determination. "I'm not done. York hasn't faced justice. Not yet."
Dad's expression softened, but his words were firm. "Susanna, enough. It's history now. You've been through enough. Let it go. Start fresh." He paused, then added, "And stop sending money. The doctors you found did wonders for Yvan and his mom. They're almost back to normal."
Tears welled in Susanna's eyes, spilling down her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she choked out. "I was so angry that I did something unforgivable."
Dad sighed deeply, his voice carrying the weight of all they had been through. "I can't forgive you for what you did to Yvan and his mom. That's not something I can forget."
"I don't expect forgiveness," Susanna whispered, her voice breaking. "I just want to make amends, one last time." She pulled out a bank card and placed it on the bench before apologizing once more to dad, mom, and Yvan.
Then, without warning, she turned to the wall and began thumping her forehead against it—hard.
Blood smeared across her face as the impact split her skin. Dad just stood there, silent, watching as she hit her head again and again.
I stared at Susanna, feeling a strange numbness crawl through me. Was this supposed to be her way of making things right? Was this her attempt to pay for what she had done? What good would this do now? Could it ever erase the pain she had caused my family?
Eventually, Susanna stopped. As her forehead bled, she stumbled away, barely able to keep herself upright. As I watched her go, I could not shake the emptiness inside me. It was too late for redemption—too much had been lost.
