Chapter 8
Jason broke down completely.
He thrashed ag
the officers holding him, but it was pointless.
The police had arrived, and the restaurant’s security footage showed everything crystal clear.
He was taken away in handcuffs.
Mom and Dad turned to me, their faces pale.
“Emma,” Dad began, his voice trembling.
“We’re so sorry. We were wrong. I was wrong. Please… give me a chance to make things right.
“I’ll hand over the entire company to you. You can take control. I trust you to run it better than I ever could.”
I shook my head and stepped back, slipping out of Mom’s desperate grasp.
“No, thanks,” I said flatly.
“I’m not interested.”
Mom’s voice wavered as she rushed to add, “Emma, I know you want to focus on research.”
“I’ll fund a state–of–the–art lab for you–whatever you need, it’s yours.”
“Just give me a chance to make up for what I’ve done. Please.”
I let out a bitter laugh.
“Is this about making it up to me, or about saving Harper Enterprises from going under?”
“Let me guess: now that the company’s stock is crashing and Jason’s going to jail, you think I’m your golden ticket, right?”
“That’s not true!” she protested, her voice rising in desperation.
I didn’t bother to respond. Instead, I pushed past her, joining my mentor and colleagues as we left.
Later that night, the incident at the restaurant hit the internet.
Videos of Jason’s outburst went viral, and Harper Enterprises became the target of another round of public outrage.
The Blakes are the definition of a trainwreck. Who runs a company like this?”
I can’t believe they treated their daughter like that because of some ridiculous superstition. What century are they living in?”
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And Jason? Isn’t he the same guy who got away with a hit–and–run? Good luck dodging this one.”
Emina Blake is the only reason people still respect the Blake name. The rest of them are trash.”
The backlash was relentless.
The company’s reputation crumbled overnight.
Jason’s trial was swift.
He was sentenced to 15 years in prison for attempted assault and his previous crimes, which were finally brought to light.
And my parents?
They weren’t spared either.
Their history of bribing officials to cover up Jason’s messes landed them each a four–year prison sentence.
The day their sentences were announced, I left the city with my team.
I’d made my decision: I would never look back.
Even after their release, they tried to find me, but Professor Collins made it clear I wasn’t interested.
From then on, I was untouchable–a ghost in their lives.
When I heard that Harper Enterprises collapsed after my dad’s imprisonment, I wasn’t surprised. My mom’s health
deteriorated, and guilt consumed her.
But none of it could change the past.
Ten years later, my life was unrecognizable.
I’d finished the project and built a new life with my husband, a fellow researcher I’d met during grad school.
We had a son–a bright, curious boy who lit up my world.
I poured every ounce of love into him.
When I looked at his tiny face, I knew I’d do anything to make sure he never felt the way I did.
“You’re spoiling him,” my husband teased one day as I fussed over our son’s birthday plans.
I smiled, shaking my head.
“You don’t get it. A home without love doesn’t grow confident kids. It breeds fear, resentment… emptiness.”
He sighed, pulling me close.
“I promise you, Emma, our son will never know that kind of pain.”
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Hell have all the love in the world.
And I believed him.
On my son’s tenth birthday, we stopped by a mall after visiting Professor Collins.
My son tugged o.. my hand, his eyes lighting up as he pointed to a toy car in the store window.
Mom, can I use my allowance to buy it? Please? I’ll take care of it, I promise!”
He pulled out a little envelope stuffed with the birthday money he’d saved, looking up at me with hopeful eyes.
I couldn’t help but smile as I ruffled his hair.
“Sure, kiddo. Go for it.”
His face lit up, and he practically skipped into the store.
That’s when I heard it–a voice behind me, trembling with emotion.
“Emma… is that you?”
I froze, my smile fading.
Turning slowly, I saw her–my mother.
She looked so much smaller than I remembered, her hair streaked with gray and her face etched with lines of regret.
Tears filled her eyes as she covered her mouth, taking a hesitant step toward me.
“Emma, I…” she choked out, her voice breaking.
But before she could come any closer, my husband stepped between us.
“Who are you?” he demanded, his voice firm.
“What do you want?”
She stopped in her tracks, glancing between him and me.
I’d told him before: I had no family.
And now, faced with the woman who had brought so much pain into my life, he understood exactly why I’d said that.
She looked at me, her eyes pleading, but I didn’t say a word. Instead, I turned and walked into the store with my son, leaving her behind.
Through the glass reflection, I saw her crumple to the ground, sobbing into her hands.
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I’m sorry,” she cried.
I was wrong. I was so wrong..
But it was too late.
There’s no unaoing the past, no erasing years of neglect and betrayal.
I’ve found freedom now–freedom to love, to give, to live.
And I’ll never let anyone take that from me again.
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