After the Last Tear: Rising from the Ashes of a Broken Marriage By Cassila K

Chapter 30

Others also stood up and left.

"Zoey, we're heading out now."

Someone muttered under their breath, but their words reached my ears clearly.

"Does she even have the nerve to go against Sara? Doesn't she know she's the one who stole someone else's man?"

"Jealous, obviously! Sara's beautiful and accomplished. What does she have?"

"She makes trouble for Sara, and in the end, it's her husband who goes to comfort Sara. How stupid!"

Their mocking laughter faded into the distance, leaving the large private room eerily quiet.

Alone, I let out a faint, bitter chuckle and poured myself another glass of liquor. I drained it in one gulp.

To be honest, Sara wasn't entirely wrong-I hadn't been to those places.

But I knew she was lying.

Because of my mother.

I wasn't born without parents.

My mother was a doctor with Médecins Sans Frontières, stationed in war zones.

In those days, for a woman to work abroad while her husband stayed behind to raise their child was unthinkable.

Neighbors would sneer and taunt, saying:

"Your mother doesn't want you anymore!"

I clenched my fists and fought to defend myself, protecting what little pride I had, only to face even harsher ridicule.

Mother frequently sent letters stamped with exotic postmarks, recounting her work and life in detail, often accompanied by photographs.

Whenever my father read her letters to me, I would envision the heroic image of a brilliant doctor.

She once told me:

see it for yourself. Broaden

she died in the line of duty

managed to recover only her ID

her life to protect,

grasp what "killed in action" meant, but I did remember the gloating of

limelight

on, I lost my mother, but her words stayed with

for yourself. Document and experience the world

you know

when I found that old camera,

to hold some lingering warmth

was her relic,

I let my tears slip through my

I miss you

The next morning.

headache jolted

open my eyes, recognizing the familiar ceiling above-it

recollection of how I

to soothe my throat, I noticed Jackson sitting in the living room,

you behave as the lady

I turned and

the desk

hoarse as I asked, "Where's my

Jackson smirked coldly.

it

My breath caught.

"What did you say?"

his arms, a disdainful smile

tell her to take more

deafening roar filled

given my mother's relic to

and shattered. I lunged at

collar, shouting hysterically:

dare you touch my camera?! How dare