Page 305 of Nemesync
And just when desperation peaked, Elijah’s voice broke the silence in the car. “Zanae?”
Relief flooded my heart.
God, he’s alive.
“Elijah! Oh my god I thought you were dead! Are you okay? I’m in the car right now, thank God you’re alive.”
I saw the flashing police lights in the distance, and the sound of sirens grew louder near Elijah’s location.
“Go back home now. It’s not safe here,” he instructed, his voice chillingly cold.
“But I can see the restaurant. I’m almost there.”
I didn’t even hear his answer, because a blinding light came from my side. Suddenly, my head was thrown forward as if someone had punched me in the face.
I felt a rush of warmth down my temples, likely blood.
Fuck. It hurt so much.
I stumbled out of the car, clutching my gun tightly, dizzy.
Why is my head throbbing so painfully?
Damn, blood is still running down my forehead.
What just happened?
I see this silhouette, a woman.
Is that…?
No.
It doesn’t take me long to recognize this face—Abla, my mother—on the desolate road with me.
The headlights of my car illuminated her face.
Instinctively, my grip on the gun tightened.
How am I still breathing?
It’s the first time I see her, the first time I meet my own mother, and I can’t feel anything but anger and rage, no love, no pity, pure fury.
She’s staring at me, as if this were just a casual meeting.
But she’s my mother, the same woman who tried to end my life, who attempted to harm the man I love and my closest friend.
She systematically destroyed me, beginning with Luna, inflicting pain upon pain just to watch me suffer.
The desolation running through my entire being at the moment felt toxic.
And now, she’s smiling, with the warmth a mother would reserve for a cherished daughter she missed dearly. But her excitement isn’t for me; it’s for the prospect of seeing me hurt, lost, and terrified for the safety of the only people I have left.
My voice seethed with rage, “Was that you? You shot at the restaurant? Why would you do that?”
My mother stood in front of me, her gaze empty.
It all felt surreal.
