Jane's POV
The notebook felt cold in my shaking hands. Each note inside was like a ghost from my mother’s life and sudden death. It was time to bring out the truth and face it. This time I would not hide. I would not let myself be a victim.
Marisol. She used to help my mother. She was the key—the only one who might know what I needed to find out. It had been many years, but I still remembered her kindly and hoped she would be willing to help me.
I set up the meeting as a secret one at a small café hidden in a quiet corner. I remembered that place from when I was a kid, when life felt easier before the pain and lies began.
The afternoon sun made long shadows on the ground while I waited. I heard the sounds of dishes and quiet talking, but inside me, everything felt loud and stormy. Mari
