Maria hadn’t changed much. Sa soft smile. Sa wide eyes, though now rimd red and hollowed out by tears. There was sothing cracked about her, not quite broken, but splintered, like a glass ornant too delicate for this place.
And then there was Isabella. Her smile. His stomach lurched. She had her mother’s eyes. Maria’s smile. "Thank you for coming, Ethan," Maria said, her voice a whisper against the weight of the place.
He nodded, forcing a smile like a man trying on a suit he never planned to buy. "Hey," he murmured, kneeling a little to face the toddler. "And you must be Isabella."
The little girl grinned, a toothy thing, and Ethan felt sothing in him twist. He couldn’t stop it, the mory of that night, sharp and unwelco, slicing through the present like a jagged knife.
"Why are you here, Maria?" he asked, his voice rough. "What happened? Tell everything and I’ll... I’ll fix it." Maria shook her head, clutching Isabella a little tighter.
"I don’t want you to fix it," she said softly, eyes glassy. "This... this is my karma, Ethan. I know what I did. I’ve made peace with it. I only asked for you because... I need you to take Isabella to Mara."
Ethan blinked. "What?"
"She’s the only person I trust," Maria said. "The only one who’ll love her like she deserves. Please, Ethan."
A bitter, humorless laugh slipped from his lips, more out of nerves than cruelty. "Maria, you’ll get out of here. You’ll raise your daughter. Don’t talk like this."
But she just smiled, and it broke him. "I’ve accepted my fate," she whispered. "And I need to know she’ll be safe. And..." A long pause. A breath so sharp it almost cut. "I need to tell you I’m sorry."
Ethan’s heart clenched. He didn’t want to hear it. It was his fault entirely. He had been too scared to admit it; he couldn’t do it here, not in a crumbling room with ghosts pressed against the walls.
"I don’t know what ca over ," she went on, voice cracking. "I wasn’t thinking, Ethan. I was jealous, I was angry, I was... I don’t know what I was. And I ruined everything. I deserve to die in here, I know that."
He looked away. The weight of her words pressed against the brittle shell of his chest. Yes, she was sick, and he was at the lowest mont of his life; the thought of never being a father was life-changing for a man who badly needed an heir.
But he couldn’t let her keep believing the fantasy. Couldn’t let her pretend she had the power to write her own ending.
"Mara can’t even bear to hear your na, Maria," Ethan said, his voice rough, ragged at the edges, like he was choking on months of unsaid things. "What makes you think, after everything we did to her, she’d ever accept to raise your daughter?"
Maria’s lips quivered. She clutched Isabella tighter, the little girl oblivious to the storm in the room, giggling softly as she tugged at the frayed thread of Maria’s sleeve.
"Listen," Ethan continued, his jaw clenched. "I’m sorry. But that’s the truth. Mara won’t. She can’t. You... you broke sothing in her, Maria. Hell, I broke sothing too. We both did."
He dragged a hand through his hair, pacing a step back, his eyes glassy with old regrets he hated to admit still haunted him.
"We got a divorce," Ethan added, his voice lower now, like it hurt to say it out loud. "Did you even know that? She still can’t stand the sight of . And the ntion of your na?" He gave a bitter, humorless laugh. "It still cuts her open."
Maria’s tears slipped free, silent at first, then heavy, her face crumpling as she held Isabella closer, as though the child’s warmth could shield her from the cold truth Ethan was laying bare.
"I’m sorry," Maria whispered, her voice cracked and small, like a child’s. "I didn’t think about that. I—I wasn’t trying to hurt her again, I swear, Ethan. I just... I don’t want my daughter growing up in the kind of ho I did. I thought... maybe Mara would look past everything, just for Isabella’s sake. That she’d rember who we used to be. The friendship we had before I ruined it."
Her sobs ca soft and sharp, filling the room like a rainstorm no one could stop.
Ethan’s chest tightened, watching her fall apart. It wasn’t pity. It wasn’t forgiveness. It was the hollow ache of seeing soone already condemned finally realize just how far they’d fallen.
The guards approached, one tapping the iron bars with a baton. "Ti’s up."
"Maria," Ethan said, his voice cracking for the first ti since he stepped into that suffocating room. "You need to tell what happened. Please. No more secrets. No more half-truths. Just... tell ."
Maria’s hands trembled as she cupped Isabella’s face, kissing her brow one last ti before the inevitable. She wouldn’t be allowed to hold her much longer, not after this. She will be sent to an orphanage if Mara doesn’t claim her.
"I killed him," she whispered. Her voice was so soft, Ethan almost wasn’t sure he heard it right.
He froze, staring at her, every breath in the room held hostage by those three words.
"I killed Daniel, Ethan," she said again, louder this ti, her face twisted in a mix of sha, fury, and bitter relief. "I stabbed him. Over and over until he stopped... until he stopped moving. Until he bled out on the floor like the bastard he was."
Ethan didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. Because deep down, he’d known.
Maria let out a choked, bitter laugh, tears spilling freely now. "I... I did it, Ethan. I snapped. Months of being hit, of being used, of him threatening to take Isabella from , I couldn’t... I couldn’t take it anymore. And when he ca at that night, I didn’t think. I didn’t hesitate. I... I just..."
Her hand mimicked the motion, the phantom weight of the knife still etched in her palm.
"There’s no redemption for ," Maria whispered, her voice breaking completely. "Not after what I did. And maybe... maybe I don’t deserve any."
Ethan swallowed hard, the past blurring into a storm of mories. Of the tis Maria showed up with bruises at the hospital. Of Mara’s effort to protect her from Daniel. Of the whispered warnings no one had the courage to act on. Of the child caught in the crossfire.
He didn’t need to ask why. He already knew. The guards stepped forward, keys jingling like cruel little bells.
"You need to leave now, sir."
Maria holds Isabella. Ethan’s hand shot out, catching the guard’s arm. "Wait." The guard scowled. "Sir, visit’s over." But Ethan’s gaze was locked on Maria, his chest heaving.
"I’m not letting you rot in here, Maria," he said, voice hard and certain now, a promise forged in guilt and sothing like redemption. "You shouldn’t have had to go through that. You... you survived. And I’m gonna fix this. No matter what it takes."
Maria’s eyes widened, the barest flicker of hope daring to spark behind the grief.
"I don’t deserve your help," she whispered. "I’m not doing it for you," Ethan replied quietly, looking down at Isabella. "I’m doing it for her."
The guards didn’t wait for another word. They took Maria, leading her away, the sound of chains rattling like a final sentence.
Ethan stood there long after she was gone, his heart in his throat, his mind already racing.
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