**Chapter 56** The tension in the room was palpable as Rowan's booming voice sliced through the air, "What the hell is he doing here?" His cold, grey eyes speared through Ethan, radiating rage. I felt the weight of Rowan’s discontent settle heavily on my shoulders. Sure, he had stood by me yesterday, but that gave him no right to dictate who was welcome in my home. My father—Theo, it was still strange to call him that—cleared his throat, his presence commanding attention. The sound was like a sharp trigger, drawing every gaze in the room to him. “Theo Howell?” Rowan’s surprise flickered across his face, but he quickly masked it. “What are you doing here?” His eyes darted among us, shifting between Theo and Nora, then landing on me, as if piecing together a puzzle with alarming clarity. “It’s been too long, Rowan,” Theo began, a dangerous smile crawling along his lips. “But I can’t say I’m thrilled about the way you’ve treated my daughter.” Nora interjected, her voice steady, though her expression was anything but friendly. “What he means to say is we’re absolutely furious about how you and your family have treated our daughter. We cannot fathom partnering with people like you.” The atmosphere grew thick with animosity. I watched as Travis’s face became a portrait of disbelief, his jaw nearly unhinged. “Is this even possible?” he muttered, his shock evident like a child caught in a web of adult complexities. “Oh, trust me, sweetheart. In this world, anything is possible,” Nora retorted, her eyes narrowing like burning embers. A glance at Emma revealed she was equally dumbfounded—her mouth agape as if she could swallow the absurdity whole. “Can we just move on? I’m not in the mood for this,” I snapped, my gaze fixated directly on Rowan. He nodded, suppressing the tension as he extracted his laptop, setting it before us with an air of inevitability. We gathered around the screen, and without further ado, he initiated a Skype call with my mother. Her face materialized on the screen, a familiar yet distant silhouette. “We're all here, Mom,” Emma chimed in, her attempt at normalcy hanging in the air. “How are you, Ava?” my mother inquired slowly, almost gingerly. Her sudden interest felt disingenuous after twenty years of silence. “Just cut to the chase. No need for fake pleasantries,” I countered, my voice firm. Her expression faltered, a brief flash of hurt crossing her face. But I remained unmoved; no amount of remorse could mend the fissures of my past. Taking a deep breath, she began, “When you came to us, you were just a few weeks old. But we didn’t adopt you until you were about fifteen months.” “What do you mean?” confusion clouded my brow. A wave of painful memories washed over as she continued. “We had a wonderful housekeeper. She was desperate for a family but couldn’t bear the thought of marrying again after her husband’s tragic death. They had wanted children, but all that was snatched away from her when a drunk driver took him from her.” "Winnie wanted a child, but she was resolute in her decision to adopt rather than face marriage or artificial insemination. About a month after her heart broke, her mother called with an incredible story. A preacher from their church found a baby left outside the church and asked if anyone wanted to adopt her.” Surprise rippled through the room, my heart racing at the realization. Could it be that the preacher was my grandfather? Destiny felt intricately woven into this revelation. Mother continued, “Winnie took a week off to go back home and retrieve the baby. We expected her back in a week, but she was gone for two. When she finally returned, she brought you with her. No one knew who your mother was, and there was no documentation.” “The preacher guessed the mother was probably a frightened teen who couldn’t cope,” she added with a somber tone. “Despite the circumstances, the social worker allowed Winnie to return home with you, as she prepared the adoption papers. You became her blessing, Ava, her light. She named you.” With each word, the pieces began to coalesce in my mind. “If she loved me like you claim, then why didn’t she raise me? How did I end up with the Sharps?” “Not long after you came into her life, she was diagnosed with stage four breast cancer. The prognosis was dire—just months to live,” she explained, her voice trembling slightly. “Before her last breath, she asked us to adopt you. We didn’t want to; we had our own children and weren’t planning on more.” The air shifted, the gravity of her admission pressing down on us. Something had nudged the cosmos, and here I was, tangled in this web of fate. “Why did you take me if you had no intention?” I pressed on, my voice cold as ice. Silence enveloped the room as she hesitated to answer. “When Travis was two, he managed to wander out of the house. By the time I noticed, he was heading toward the road. A car was speeding towards him. I screamed, and somehow, Winnie must have heard. I don’t know how, but she saved him. She ended up in a coma for months, her right hand amputated, and now, she walks with a limp.” Her next words hit like a freight train: “We accepted her request because we owed her. Nothing we ever did could repay her. So when she passed, we adopted Ava.” Staring down, I muttered bitterly, “I wish you hadn’t. Tossing me into an orphanage would have been kinder than the life I had with you.” Memories of torment surged, twisting like barbed vines in my soul. The only recollections that came to mind were painful ones. “Do you have any idea how many would envy the life you led?” Emma injected, sneering at me. “Shut up, Emma, or I’ll make sure you won’t be able to talk again.” My voice dripped with venom, anger igniting in my chest. Enough of her petty remarks! “I slept with your ex-boyfriend. Get over it! Watching a thirty-year-old woman throw a fit like a toddler is pathetic. Noah exhibits more maturity than you!” My eruption rocked the room, and Emma’s eyes dropped, furious red spreading across her cheeks. Then, warmth enveloped me—Nora’s hand gripping my shoulder, her grin radiating a rare sense of support. I hadn’t expected anyone to champion me like this. “I suggest you heed my daughter’s warning,” Nora said, her tone low but lethal. “It has been far too long, and you’ve made her pay for her mistakes far too much. Move on and bury the past. You dare speak to my daughter in that tone again, and trust me, you’ll regret it.” Shock coursed through my veins at her fierce allegiance. Nobody had defended me like this, save for Letty. It was a bewildering, electrifying moment—and yet, beneath it all lay a rush of gratitude. Emma glanced up, the defiance in her eyes quickly replaced with defeat. My mother cleared her throat, pulling our focus back. “I know how we treated you wasn't fair, and for that, I’m truly sorry. More than you might understand.” “Stop. Just like I told your son, your sorrys are far too late. I don’t want to hear it. I've no desire to engage with you,” I replied, detaching myself from the turmoil swelling around me. Too much had happened; there was no turning back now. Maybe, one day, I could forgive them, but that day was not today. The wounds ran too deep. “Now that all the dirty laundry is aired, let’s end this,” Theo proclaimed, his voice booming. “Regardless of your grievances, your disdain for my daughter began long before she ever made that choice with Rowan. Know this: you will account for every tear she has shed and every moment of suffering you have inflicted.” A lethal tension filled the air, suffocating and thick, as the truth settled like a storm over our heads. Everyone knew Theo Howell was not a man to provoke, ever. “Please, Mr. Howell,” my mother pleaded, her voice strained. “How many times did my daughter reach out? You turned a blind eye, didn’t you? Don’t expect mercy now when you never offered any.” Nora seethed, pure venom dancing in her words, eyes ablaze with fierce hatred. Silence fell, my mother mumbling under her breath, shame swallowing her whole. “I think it’s time for you all to leave,” I declared, casting a pointed look at Travis and Emma. Their purposes here had been fulfilled. They lingered a moment, staring, before rising to exit. Rowan followed, then Ethan stood, walking over to me. “You’ll never have to face anything alone. Your enemies are our enemies now. Those who dared hurt you will pay dearly. You will never experience pain again.” “We love you, my beautiful angel,” Nora added, matching Ethan's sentiment with earnest warmth. And then they left, a wave of support washing over me. I felt a rush of relief, but beneath it lurked the question: did I genuinely desire vengeance against those who had wronged me? And even if I did, would those same individuals retaliate against Ethan for standing by my side? Were Nora and Theo prepared to stand against their own son for me? My heart thudded with uncertainty, a mix of hope and chaos lighting the path before me.