Chelsea’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Your mother is dead. And your grandmother will be soon too. It’s a matter of time. Old women like her don’t last long. And when she dies, your father is going to inherit that filthy house where she lives. We’re going to sell it. We’re going to move away. And you’re going to stay in a boarding school where you learn not to be so insolent. Is that why you hit defenseless women? Because it makes you feel powerful?”
Chelsea took a step toward him. The camera perfectly captured her face—pure fury.
“I didn’t touch you, you lying brat. You attacked me, and if you repeat that lie again, I’ll make sure you rot in a juvenile facility.”
“I know the truth,” Ethan said. “And my grandmother does too.”
“Your grandmother is nobody,” Chelsea spat. “She’s a washed-up old lady who doesn’t know when to give up. But she’ll learn. Everyone learns eventually.”
At that moment, we heard another voice—a voice that made my world stop.
“What are you two talking about?”
Rob had just entered through the front door. He wore his office suit, his tie loose. He looked tired, older—nothing like the son I remembered.
“Honey,” Chelsea said, immediately changing her tone to one of sweetness and concern. “You’re home early. Ethan was just leaving.”
Rob looked at his son, then at Chelsea. Something in his expression told me he had heard more than she thought.
“What was that about a boarding school?” he asked.
“I was just explaining to him that if he continues to misbehave, we’ll have to take measures,” Chelsea replied quickly.
“She said that when Grandma dies, they were going to sell her house,” Ethan said, his voice firm despite his fear. “She said it word for word.”
“That’s a lie,” Chelsea exclaimed. “Rob, honey, your son is making things up again to turn you against me.”
“I’m not making anything up—and you know it,” Ethan said.
Rob ran his hands over his face. He looked like a man on the verge of collapse.
“Ethan, go now.”
“Dad, you need to listen to me—”
“I said go!”
The scream echoed throughout the house. Ethan took a step back, hurt. I squeezed my phone so hard I thought I would break it.
“All right,” Ethan said in a low voice. “I’m going. But when you want to know the truth, you know where to find me.”
He left the house. The door closed behind him. On the screen, we could still see Rob and Chelsea in the living room.
She approached him and placed her hands on his chest.
“Honey, you’re stressed. That kid is making you sick. We should—”
“I need to be alone,” Rob interrupted her, pulling away.
He walked up the stairs without saying anything else. Chelsea stayed there, looking at her cell phone with a smile that chilled my blood. She dialed a number.
“Gerald, it’s me. We have to speed things up. The brat is causing problems. Yes, I know. Give me one more week and everything will be ready. The old lady won’t know what hit her.”
She hung up, and at that moment I knew we didn’t have much time.
Ethan arrived at the car. He got into the back with me. His eyes were full of tears he refused to shed.
“I’m sorry, Grandma. I tried.”
“Don’t apologize,” I said, hugging him. “You did perfectly. We got what we needed.”
Linda started the car, and we drove away. On my phone, I reviewed the recordings. We had everything—the candlestick, Chelsea’s threats, her confession about selling my house, her call with Gerald.
But more importantly, I had something that broke my heart: the confirmation that my son was lost.
That night, after Ethan fell asleep, I went out onto the balcony of my apartment. The city glowed under the streetlights. It was cold. Or maybe it was just my heart that felt frozen.
I thought about Rob when he was a child. How he would run to me every time I came home from work. How he would hug me and say, “Mom, I missed you all day.” The nights I spent awake when he had a fever. The times I defended him when other kids made fun of him for not having a father.
I gave everything for that child. Everything.
And for what? For a woman to arrive and steal him from me in less than five years? For him to look at me as if I were his enemy?
The tears I had contained for days finally came out. I cried silently so Ethan wouldn’t hear me. I cried for the son I lost, for the years I would never get back, for the words I would never hear from his mouth again.
But I also cried out of rage. Because Chelsea hadn’t just taken my son. She had turned him into a stranger. She had poisoned him against me, against his own son, against everything that was once good in him.
And I couldn’t forgive that.
I dried my tears. I took a deep breath. And in that moment, I made a decision. I was going to get my son back. I didn’t know how. I didn’t know how long it would take. But I was going to rip him from that woman’s clutches—even if it was the last thing I did in this life.
Because I was Elellanena Stone, and mothers like me don’t give up. Never. Even when the whole world is against us, even when our own children have forgotten us, we don’t give up.
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