The Bound Between Us

Could Will's death really be so simple?

If the Brown family had been playing Jason for a fool all these years-using "gratitude" as an excuse to hold it over his head-well, that was just plain rotten.

Alisa worked at a beauty salon, so she always made sure to look her best, dressing sharp and keeping up appearances. Malia, her mother-in-law, was always worried men might flirt with Alisa, which was why she so often showed up at the salon to make a scene.

Alisa hadn't even noticed Anastasia in the crowd. She tossed a few words behind her and walked straight into the salon, not looking back.

Meanwhile, Malia was out on the sidewalk, ranting to anyone who'd listen about how Alisa was shameless and had brought about her son's death.

People gathered for a minute, curious about the commotion, but nobody stuck around for long. Everyone was busy with their own lives-who really had time to care about someone else's family drama?

Anastasia approached. "Auntie, it's sweltering out here. Let me help you cross the street and find a cool spot to sit down. How about I buy you a cold drink?"

Malia didn't know Anastasia and had never seen her before.

Anastasia put on her most helpful face, gently guiding Malia along, all the while itching to get to the bottom of what really happened with Will.

had truly been lying to and taking advantage of him, there was

attention. She patted Anastasia's hand and said,

settled Malia at a table in a nearby café, and bought her a glass of iced juice. "Here, have

in one go, and, feeling a bit better, began pouring her heart out: "My life's so hard. My son married a woman with loose morals. She used to pretend to be such a good daughter-in-law, and I treated her like my own child. Who knew she was so two-faced? She even mortgaged

were nothing but trouble-full of flashy girls hoping to land a rich

Anastasia bristle inside. That kind of narrow-mindedness hit a nerve; her friend Monica worked at a salon too,

be upset,

a look of deep

brought tears to Malia's eyes. She dabbed at them and said, "My son was a hero, a police officer. He didn't die from some illness-he died in

her eyes inwardly. What a way to rewrite history-she'd clearly heard Alisa say

"Your son sounds amazing,"

have to admit, I'm a little worried about you You look a bit pale, and your lips

herself up so much, it was no

fib did the trick-Malia's face changed

"My son had it could that pass on to me? But I'm his mother, that doesn't make sense, does

understood a little about genetics-illness usually goes from parent to child, not the