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:

are small, but the real world is vast. You must see it for yourself. Broaden your horizons, and only then will you know

I was five, she died in the line of duty

managed to

she had risked her life to protect,

time, I didn't fully grasp what "killed in action" meant, but I did

limelight never meet a good

my mother,

Document and

will you know what you truly

found that old camera, its weathered

hold some lingering warmth of

was her relic, and my childhood

my hands, I let my tears slip through my fingers and

miss you so

The next morning.

headache jolted me

recognizing the familiar ceiling above-it was

no recollection of how I got

I noticed Jackson sitting in the living room, his face clouded with

you behave as the lady of the

him, I turned and walked toward

desk

hoarse as I asked, "Where's my

Jackson smirked coldly.

it

My breath caught.

"What did you say?"

arms, a disdainful smile tugging

her

deafening roar filled

given my mother's

from my hand and

collar, shouting hysterically:

dare you touch my camera?! How