Hazel stared at Jacob, and her eyes slowly narrowed. The pain of hearing her mother’s name from his mouth still tingled like a fresh wound, but the truth burning in her chest refused to be buried again. She had spent too many years pretending ignorance, swallowing her questions, forcing her heart to forget the ache. But now her voice broke through the weight of silence like a blade tearing through cloth.
“The one who owes our mother the most should be you,” Hazel said quietly, but the sharpness of her tone pierced the air. “The daughter of the third party is even older than me. Is this your loyalty to our mother.”
The words were slow, deliberate, and heavy with truth. They did not come from anger. They came from clarity.
Her gaze held Jacob’s, refusing to drop, refusing to step back eve
