Scars and Lies
erase the pain they caused. I won’t force you to come back. I want to respect your decision. But… can you at least allow me to visit you whenever I miss you?”
Her sincerity was undeniable and her presence was like a faint glimmer of light breaking through the darkness. I held her tighter, unable to speak, my tears the only answer I could give.
There was a time, fueled by the lies of the fake Alyssa, when I doubted whether my sister’s love for me had changed. I hated myself for ever letting that doubt creep in.
From the moment we were children, my sister had been my rock. In a family where others faltered or turned their backs, she stood unwaveringly by my side. When I fell, she lifted me. When I cried, she dried my tears. She was the one constant in a world that seemed determined to test my limits. Her love for me had never wavered, not for a
moment.
That day, as I sat with her in the Cole family’s expansive sitting room, surrounded by the faint scent of lavender and the flickering shadows of the evening sun through the windows, I listened as she recounted the ten years we had lost. Her voice trembled as she spoke of the hardships she had endured, her fingers clutching mine tightly, as
though afraid I might slip away again.
Tears welled in my eyes as her words painted vivid pictures of her struggles, the pain of being separated from me and the helplessness she felt knowing I had suffered so much. Each story was like a dagger to my heart, twisting
with guilt and sorrow.
Her face, though etched with years of hardship, still carried the warm smile I remembered. “Sis,” she said, her voice thick with emotion, “what they did to you, I can never forgive. But I want you to know… I never stopped thinking of you, not for a single day. You’re my sister. Nothing can ever change that.”
She reached into her bag and pulled out a neatly folded envelope. “Take this,” she said, pressing it into my hands. “It’s everything I’ve saved over the years. I don’t need it as much as you do. Use it to build the life you
deserve.”
I shook my head, my voice firm despite the lump in my throat. “No, Alyssa. You’ve already given me more than I could ever ask for. Keep it. Use it for yourself.”
We embraced tightly, neither of us wanting to let go. The warmth of her hug was a balm to my soul, soothing
wounds I had thought would never heal.
***
When it was finally time to leave, I stepped out of the Coles‘ manor, my footsteps heavy yet resolute. My parents,
their faces streaked with tears, clung to me as though I were their last hope.
“Mia, we’re so sorry,” my mother sobbed, her grip on my arm desperate. “We were blind, we were wrong! Please…
please don’t leave us again. Give us a chance to make things right.”
My father, usually so stern, looked utterly defeated. “We failed you, Mia. We’ll do anything to make up for it. Just
come back home.”
Their pleas echoed in the crisp evening air, but my heart remained unmoved. Their regret, though palpable came
too late. Their tears couldn’t erase the years of pain and neglect they had inflicted upon me.
140
I gently but firmly pried their hands from my arms. “I’ve already chosen my path,” I said quietly. “I don’t belong
here anymore.”
As I approached the car waiting at the end of the driveway, a commotion broke out behind me. I turned to see
Dillon.
His eyes lit up when he saw me and he hurried forward. “Mia! I knew you’d come back. I-”
Before he could finish, my parents intercepted him, their earlier sorrow replaced by seething anger.
“Get out of here!” my father barked, pointing an accusatory finger at Dillon. “You have no right to be here after
what vou did to her!”
“Exactly!” my mother added, her voice sharp. “You’re the one who ruined her life! Don’t think for a second we’ll let you near her again.”
I stood silently, watching the scene unfold. The irony wasn’t lost on me–these were the same people who, not long ago, had colluded with Dillon behind my back, giving the fake Alyssa everything they had denied me.
Without sparing any of them a second glance, I stepped into the car and closed the door. The engine roared to life and as we pulled away from the manor, I didn’t look back.
When the car finally reached Green Ridge, the familiar sight of the rolling hills and the faint scent of blooming flowers greeted me like an old friend.
At the entrance, my elderly neighbor stood waiting with her two grandchildren. The moment they spotted me, their faces lit up with excitement and they rushed toward me, their laughter ringing in the air.
I stepped out of the car, a smile breaking across my face. I handed the children the fruits and desserts I had brought back, their eyes widening with delight as they rummaged through the bags.
To my neighbor, I gave the household supplies she had longed for but couldn’t afford. Her wrinkled face broke into a wide grin and she patted my hand warmly. “You’re too kind, Mia. You’ve done so much for us.”
I shook my head, my heart full. “It’s nothing. You’ve given me more than I could ever repay.”
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the village, I felt a sense of peace I hadn’t known in years.
***
In the days that followed, life in Green Ridge resumed its steady rhythm. I spent my mornings tending to the small garden I had started, the afternoons teaching the village children how to read and write and the evenings sharing simple meals with my neighbors under the star–filled sky.
Though my life here was quiet, it was filled with warmth and purpose. Each day, I found myself healing a little more, the scars of the past fading into distant memories.
For the first time in a long time, I felt whole.
(The End)
