The Golden Mending

CHAPTER 9 - The House of Glass

I didn't storm into the house. I didn't scream. A woman who holds the truth doesn't need to raise her voice.

I walked into the living room where Roy was sitting with Putri, sharing a quiet moment over a plate of fruit. The baby was sleeping in the swing, a small, innocent soul in a house filled with demons.

"Lala," Roy said, his voice weary. "I thought we agreed you’d go to your mother’s."

"We didn't agree on anything, Roy," I said, dropping my bag on the coffee table. The sound was like a thunderclap in the silent room. "Because a marriage isn't a negotiation between a husband and a wife when one of them is a stranger."

Putri rolled her eyes, leaning into Roy’s shoulder. "Here we go again. Roy, tell her to leave. She’s disturbing the baby."

I pulled the printed DNA report from my bag and slid it across the table. It landed right in front of Roy’s half-eaten apple.

"Read it," I said.

Roy frowned, his hand trembling slightly as he picked up the paper. As his eyes moved down the page, I watched the color drain from his face. His skin turned a sickly gray, and his breath became shallow.

"0.00%..." Roy whispered.

"What is it, Roy?" Putri snatched the paper, her eyes scanning the text. For the first time, her mask of confidence shattered. Her hands shook so hard the paper rattled. "This... this is a fake! She made this up!"

"I checked the maternity too, Putri," I said, stepping closer. I looked her straight in the eyes—the eyes of a predator who had finally been caught. "You’re not her mother. And Roy isn't her father. So tell me... whose baby is she? And why did you spend six months in the oncology ward under Roy’s name?"

Roy slumped back in his chair, his head in his hands. "Lala... please..."

"No more 'please', Roy! Seven years!" I finally let my voice rise, sharp and cutting. "Seven years I gave you my soul, and you replaced me with an actress and a stolen child? Did you think I was so blind? Or did you think I was so desperate for a family that I’d accept a lie this big?"

"She's Maya's daughter," Roy choked out, his voice broken. "Maya... she didn't go abroad, Lala. She was sick. Very sick. She died in that oncology ward six months ago. She begged me to protect the baby, to give her a 'real' family. I couldn't tell the family... I couldn't tell you..."

"So you hired her?" I pointed at Putri. "You hired a woman to play your mistress and the mother of your sister's child, just to hide the truth from the world? From me?"

"I was protecting the family name!" Roy screamed, standing up. "I was protecting you from the grief!"

"You weren't protecting me, Roy," I said, picking up my bag and the DNA report. "You were protecting your pride. And in the process, you killed the only thing that was real in this house."

I looked at the baby, then back at the two strangers in my living room. "The police will want to know why a child's birth was never properly registered. And your mother will want to know where her daughter really is."

I turned toward the door, my heart cold and clear. "Don't bother looking for me. My lawyer will be the only one talking from now on."