Forbidden desires

Shadows Don't Lie

Brianna

I woke with the same heaviness pressing against my chest, like it had taken permanent residence there.

For a moment, I lay still, staring at the ceiling, trying to convince myself that everything that happened had been nothing more than a bad dream.

That somewhere between the DNA results and Marcus’s calm certainty, I had misunderstood everything.

But my body already knew the truth before my mind was willing to accept it.

It was real.

The rejection.

The accusation.

The way people looked at me, as if I had suddenly become someone untrustworthy.

I pressed my palm to my eyes and exhaled slowly.

No matter how many times I replayed everything in my head, nothing changed.

They said I wasn’t Thomas Hemsworth’s daughter.

And yet, something deep inside me refused to accept that.

Not because I was in denial…

But because it didn’t fit.

None of it did.

The result. The timing. The sudden way everything around me collapsed.

It was too neat.

Too convenient.

Like a story carefully written by someone who wanted me erased.

I sat up and reached for my phone.

No messages.

No new calls.

Nothing.

And most importantly—no threats.

That was what confused me the most.

If someone truly wanted me gone, discredited, or silenced, wouldn’t they keep pushing?

Wouldn’t they go further?

But my inbox remained empty.

My notifications stayed silent.

For all its chaos, my life had suddenly gone still.

And that silence felt wrong.

I swung my legs off the bed and sat there for a while, lost in thought.

Whoever did this hadn’t made a mistake.

They were careful.

Strategic.

Which meant this wasn’t random.

It was planned.

I got ready without thinking too much.

My body moved on autopilot.

Brush teeth. Wash face. Tie my hair back.

Simple motions to keep myself from spiraling.

Beth was already awake when I stepped into the kitchen.

She looked at me immediately.

“You didn’t sleep.”

It wasn’t a question.

“I did,” I lied.

She didn’t argue.

She simply studied me for a moment before placing a cup of tea in front of me.

“You’re thinking too much again.”

“I can’t stop,” I admitted quietly.

Beth sighed and leaned against the counter.

“About the DNA thing?”

That single phrase tightened something inside my chest.

“Yes.”

I wrapped my fingers around the cup but didn’t drink.

“I keep thinking… what if it’s wrong?” I said. “Not emotionally wrong. Technically wrong.”

Beth frowned.

“Like tampering?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “But it doesn’t make sense. And worse… I don’t even have anything to prove it.”

That was the part that hurt most.

I had no evidence.

No resources.

No access to anything that could help me dig deeper.

Just questions crowding my mind with nowhere to go.

Beth pulled out a chair and sat across from me.

“What about your grandmother?”

I hesitated.

“I called her last night.”

“And?”

I shook my head.

“She said she doesn’t know anything beyond what my father told her.”

Beth waited.

I continued.

“She said my father told her he left his family because they rejected the woman he loved.”

The words felt heavier the second time I said them.

It was the only story I had ever known about him.

A man who chose love over family.

A man who walked away.

But now, that same story felt incomplete.

Because if he truly left because of rejection, why did it feel like I was the one being rejected now?

Or worse…

Why did it feel like I was being punished for something I didn’t understand?

Beth broke the silence.

“So you don’t have answers.”

“I have fragments,” I said. “Pieces that don’t connect.”

She leaned back.

“And Marcus?”

My hand tightened around the cup.

Marcus.

Just thinking about him pulled my mind somewhere I didn’t want it to go.

“I saw him yesterday,” I admitted.

Beth raised a brow.

“And?”

“And he said he believes me.”

She blinked.

“Just like that?”

“Yes.”

A pause stretched between us.

“ Marcus said that?” She frowned. “that's surprising”.

I nodded.

Surprising didn’t even begin to cover it.

A man like Marcus didn’t involve himself in situations that didn’t concern him.

He didn’t look like someone who got emotionally invested in anything that didn’t benefit him.

And yet he had looked at me.

Calm,

Certain,

And told me he believed me.

No hesitation.

No doubt.

That should have comforted me.

Instead, it unsettled me.

Because I didn’t understand why.

Beth stood.

“You need to eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’re never hungry when you’re stressed,” she muttered, already opening the fridge.

I barely heard her.

My mind drifted again.

To Marcus standing at that bar.

Watching me like he was trying to solve a puzzle I didn’t even know I was part of.

Handsome.

The thought came uninvited.

I shoved it away immediately.

Irrelevant.

Dangerous, even.

Men like him didn’t belong in my life.

Especially not now.

Not when everything already felt unstable.

Whatever this was, whatever strange pull I felt whenever I thought about him, it didn’t matter.

It couldn’t matter.

I had bigger things to deal with.

Still, his words lingered.

I know enough.

What did he mean by that?

How could he possibly know anything at all?

I stood abruptly.

“I’m going out.”

Beth looked up sharply.

“Where?”

“I need to think.”

“That’s what you said yesterday.”

“And I still didn’t think,” I replied quietly.

She sighed but didn’t stop me.

Outside, the air felt too bright for the weight in my chest.

Everyone was going about their daily life.

My skin was beginning to feel clammy because of the heat.

I walked without direction, letting my feet move while my thoughts tried to untangle themselves.

If the DNA test was wrong… then what was the truth?

And if it was right…

No.

I couldn’t finish that thought.

Because accepting it meant accepting that my entire life had been built on something fragile.

Something unstable.

I stopped near a roadside stall and pulled out my phone again.

Still nothing.

No threats.

No warnings.

Just silence.

That silence wasn’t peace.

And that anxiety crawled beneath my skin.

Someone was watching.

Someone was scheming.

And I hated that I didn’t know who.

By the time I returned home that afternoon, my thoughts felt sharper, but heavier.

I sat on my bed, staring at the wall.

There had to be something I was missing.

Some connection I hadn’t seen.

My father.

The Hemsworth family.

The DNA test.

And Marcus strangely woven into the center of this chaos, as if he had always belonged there.

I exhaled slowly.

“I’m not crazy,” I whispered.

Because that was the easiest thing for people to assume.

But I wasn’t imagining this.

Something had been deliberately hidden.

And whether I had resources or not didn’t matter anymore.

I was going to find the truth.

Even if I had to start from nothing.

Even if I had to piece everything together alone.

Because whatever was happening had a direct line to how my parents died.

And for that, I'll make sure I get to the bottom of this.

I was once made to believe my parents died in an unfortunate car accident.

Now I knew better.

Accidents didn't leave this many shadows.

And I was done living in the dark.

I would uncover the truth. No matter who tried to bury it.