Chapter 16: The Beginning

Nina ran to her room and burst through the door without knocking, as usual, exclaiming excitedly, "Mom, guess who came to visit you?"

When she received no response, she looked puzzled at Maya, who stood motionless by her window. She had been in this state for seven hours—no eating, no sleeping, no talking to anyone, just staring at the street and the cars from her window. Nina had no idea what had happened to her mother. Maya had told her when she picked her up from school that she would drop Alex off at his uncle’s place and then go on a reconnaissance mission until the evening. But Maya had returned just an hour later, pale as a ghost.

Nina approached her and grabbed Maya’s hand, shouting, "What’s wrong, Mom? What’s going on?"

Maya asked without looking at her, "Where is she?"

Nina raised her eyebrows in surprise and asked, "How did you know?"

Maya muttered, "I saw her enter through the window."

Nina said, "She’s downstairs waiting for you. Do you know what she wants?"

Maya responded as she left the room, "No," though she wasn’t being honest—she knew exactly why Sonia had come to see her.

Before Maya entered the living room, she saw through the open door that Sonia was sitting on one of the couches, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her face flushed with anger. So, as Maya had expected, dinner with Frederick hadn’t gone well, and now Sonia was here.

Maya sighed heavily before walking in, her face expressionless as she greeted Sonia. "Hello, Sonia. Two meetings in one day—is this just a coincidence?"

Sonia glared at her angrily, then stood up and walked over to Maya, raising her left hand swiftly to slap her hard enough to turn her face. Maya lifted her head, filled with shock, not realizing that a second slap was on its way, harder than the first.

Maya took two steps back from Sonia, the only reaction she could muster. Her head bowed, her eyes fixed on the ground. What could she do? She had enough complications as it was—she didn’t need any more problems from Sonia.

Sonia fumed, "When will you leave us alone?"

Maya lifted her head and looked at Sonia, who continued, "He was happy and laughing when I left him this afternoon. What did you say to him, you snake, to make him so pained and distant, telling me he wants to postpone the engagement and wedding?"

Maya didn’t respond, but it seemed Sonia didn’t expect her to. She hissed through clenched teeth, "Do you know how long I’ve waited for him? Do you know how many times I’ve proposed marriage to him? Do you know how many times he’s rejected me? Do you know how humiliated I felt? How much pain I endured? And all because of you."

Maya replied coldly, "I also thought it was because of me, but the truth is, it was his guilt."

Sonia shouted back, "Yes, because of his friend’s death and his inability to protect him, even though I see no reason for guilt—it wasn’t his fault. But he’s a noble man. Yet that wasn’t enough for you; you’re still a vile woman determined to ruin him."

Maya smiled sympathetically. So, he’s noble and she’s vile? How naive Sonia was—Frederick hadn’t told her the truth. Maya muttered, "You don’t deserve him."

Sonia whispered in disbelief, "So that’s it! You want him for yourself!"

Maya pursed her lips and said, "Don’t get me wrong. I meant you don’t deserve a man as despicable as he is. You deserve someone better."

"That’s none of your business. Leave us alone."

"I’m sorry, but you’re too late. Frederick is my business now, and I can’t ever let him go."

Sonia screamed, "Enough! We won’t stay at the mercy of your madness any longer. Frederick may be kind and love you, but I’m not. I despise you, and I’ll do everything I can to stop you, whatever it takes." Then she stormed out of the house, just as she had entered it.

Maya tilted her head thoughtfully. Was there a hint of threat in Sonia’s words? Would she stand in Maya’s way to reach Frederick? Wasn’t Alex enough? Maya certainly didn’t want Sonia involved in this mess, but it was clear Sonia had inserted herself into everything related to Frederick.

Maya was in the kitchen, pressing an ice pack to her reddened cheek when she heard a voice behind her say, "What happened to your face?"

Maya closed her eyes in pain, gritting her teeth as the small ice pack began to melt in her hand from the tightness of her grip. She didn’t want to see her mother today, tomorrow, or even the day after—not until she could calm down, process the shock, and find a justification for her mother’s actions.

Madeleine asked, "Why didn’t you come down for dinner?"

Maya turned to leave the kitchen and head upstairs, but her mother’s face reminded her of Frederick’s story, and she couldn’t help but say, "Why? Why don’t you bring up the narcotics unit anymore? Why did you suddenly agree to my work there? Aren’t you afraid of losing me like you lost Dad?"

Madeleine narrowed her eyes in confusion and asked, "What are you talking about?"

"I’m just asking why you suddenly accepted my job."

"Because I’m your mother, and I know how stubborn you are. I had no choice but to accept reality and pray that nothing bad happens to you."

"Is that really the reason?"

"What are you trying to get at?"

Maya looked at her mother with determination and asked seriously, "The truth you’ve been hiding from me for three years. You accepted my job in the narcotics unit not because of my stubbornness, but because you remembered that Dad didn’t die because of his work in narcotics—he died because Frederick betrayed him, choosing his nephew’s life over his friend’s when forced to choose between them, right?"

Madeleine muttered, "So, Frederick told you."

Maya asked, pained, "Why didn’t you tell me yourself? Why did you let me hear it from Frederick? And more importantly, why did you ask Frederick to promise not to tell me?"

Madeleine sat down at the kitchen table, placing her hands on it as she calmly explained, "Why didn’t I tell you? Because I didn’t want you to know. Why did I let Frederick tell you? I didn’t—I didn’t want him to tell you, and I don’t know what made him do it. Why did I ask Frederick to promise not to tell you? Because I knew it would hurt you just as much as it hurt me. You’ve been angry and vengeful since your father’s death, accusing Frederick without any proof. So, I thought it best not to tell you until you calmed down. But unfortunately, after three years, the thought of revenge still fills your head, so I never found the right moment to tell you. The story is over, the past won’t come back, so there’s no need to dredge it up."

Maya crossed her arms over her chest, seething with anger. "I didn’t get anything useful out of this long lecture."

Madeleine sighed, her patience wearing thin, and replied, "Let me be clearer then. I didn’t tell you because I knew what would happen the moment you found out—you’d try to take revenge and kill Frederick. You’d get caught up in a cycle you’d never escape, hurting yourself and Frederick."

Maya swallowed hard and whispered, her voice choked with emotion, "I wish you had stopped at 'hurting yourself.'"

Madeleine looked at her in confusion, so Maya continued, shouting, "Hurting Frederick! Is that what matters to you? Frederick! The man who allowed my father to be killed, who stood by and watched it happen, who chose for my father to die."

Madeleine raised her voice, speaking with difficulty, "Your father’s death wasn’t his fault—there was nothing he could do."

Maya screamed back, "Why do you defend him? What about my father? Who defends him?"

Madeleine spoke painfully, "Maya, there’s a truth you seem to have forgotten—your father is dead."

Maya quickly retorted, "Yes, and the second truth I seem to have also forgotten is that you forgot my father as soon as he died, didn’t you?"

Madeleine jumped up, shouting in warning, "Maya!"

But Maya didn’t care. She angrily said, "You know, I’m starting to wonder if you ever loved my father—"

She didn’t finish her sentence, as her mother’s slap across her left cheek silenced her.

Madeleine whispered, her eyes red with tears, "You... are no longer my daughter." Then she went upstairs, leaving Maya alone.

In utter disbelief, Maya sat down in the chair her mother had just vacated, bowing her head. Sonia had slapped her twice, with all her strength, and she hadn’t cared much. She had dismissed it as a fit of anger. But her mother’s slap was different. In her entire life, she couldn’t recall her mother ever raising a hand against her. She felt pain, not on her cheek but deep in her heart.

She noticed movement and looked up to see her grandfather wheeling himself toward her. When he got closer, he said, "Do you know why I hate arguing with women? Because they only know two ways to express themselves: shouting and hitting."

Maya replied dully, "Don’t be so sure. I recently took a slap from a man, not too long ago."

Grandfather Richard pursed his lips in mock contemplation and said, "Then the problem must be with you, my dear. It seems you drive people to lose their temper."

Maya asked her grandfather, her eyes glistening, "Did you hear what we said?"

Her grandfather frowned and corrected her, "Use the right words, girl. I didn’t eavesdrop—I overheard, and there’s a difference. You were all shouting, and my room is downstairs, so I was forced to hear everything."

Maya replied wearily, "Okay, I’m ready to hear your comment."

He asked curiously, "Which part do you want me to comment on? Your conversation with Sonia or with your mother?"

Maya smiled at him, then asked cautiously, "Did you know about it?"

Her grandfather answered honestly, "No. I found out today from what you said, and I won’t deny I was shocked."

"Great, she didn’t tell her father, and she didn’t tell her daughter. Mom’s a first-rate secret keeper."

"You’re right, and that led me to another realization."

"What’s that?"

"That your mother suffered alone. Don’t you feel relieved when you confide a painful truth to someone, something only you know? I’m sure Frederick felt a great relief when he told your mother the truth. But what about your mother? She stayed silent, telling no one. She chose to bear it alone rather than make someone she loved suffer alongside her. I think you didn’t really listen when she said she didn’t tell you because she knew it would hurt you as much as it hurt her."

Maya sat quietly, staring down at her trembling fingers. Finally, she said in a voice weighed down with guilt, "I know better than anyone how much she loved Dad. I didn’t mean to say that— I was just so angry at her for forgiving Frederick."

Her grandfather spoke gently, "Did you ever wonder why she forgave Frederick?"

Maya muttered, "Mom loves Frederick."

Her grandfather replied, "Maybe that’s true, but perhaps it’s also because she feels he’s not to blame, or maybe she just wanted to find peace within herself."

Maya echoed incredulously, "Peace?"

He explained, "Maya, I believe your mother feels a double burden compared to what you feel about your father’s death. No pain is greater than losing a spouse—I’ve been through it twice. But one of God’s blessings is the ability to forget sorrow and pain over time. However, you can’t forget when you’re consumed by betrayal and revenge. So I believe one of the main reasons your mother forgave Frederick, whether he was at fault or not, was that she wanted to find peace within herself. She wanted to make peace with the reality of her husband’s death, and she couldn’t do that without forgiveness."

Maya remained silent, prompting her grandfather to say as he wheeled himself out of the kitchen, "I have a call to make, so I’ll leave you. By the way, don’t look for Nina. She’s in my room, and I think she’s asleep now."

Maya asked in amazement, "Why did she sleep in your room?"

Her grandfather smiled and said, "She was on her way to bring juice to Sonia when she saw her slap you. I think the scene upset her a bit, so she came to me, leading her to hear Sonia’s shouting and threats, and finally, the heated conversation between you and your mother. After that, she whispered that she wanted to sleep in my room tonight. She was scared, Maya." Then he left the kitchen.

Maya sat on the edge of her grandfather’s bed, smiling affectionately as she watched Nina sleeping on her stomach, her red hair tousled across her face. Gently, she reached out to move some of the wavy red strands away from Nina’s face, but her hand froze suddenly, her expression shifting to shock as she noticed the tear stains on her daughter’s cheek. She muttered as she turned away, "You little coward," then lifted her head, trying to hold back her tears. She couldn’t stop her lower lip from trembling, though. Finally, she let out a bitter sigh and whispered softly to the sleeping Nina, "After all the effort I put into holding my ground against Sonia, Mom, and Grandpa, you come along and break through all my defenses, exposing my weakness. I..." But she couldn’t finish, as a lump in her throat choked her words, and the tears welling up in her eyes blurred her vision. She wiped her eyes with trembling fingers and continued in a more unsteady voice, "Why are you so silent? Why don’t you shout at me like they did? Why do you hide away in bed and cry for me? Why are you crying? Is it pity or fear? Do you pity me because, after three long years of struggle,

 I finally reached that point of peace your father talked about, only for Sam to come and flip the table on me? Do you pity me because I’m losing everyone, one by one? Or are you afraid for me because I’ve unwillingly entered a labyrinth that will only end in my death?" Her stifled sobs grew louder, so she covered her mouth with her hand until she calmed down a bit. Then, as she gently ran her fingers through Nina’s hair, she whispered, "You know, I wonder how you’d feel if I told you that you’re no longer my daughter. No! Don’t even think about answering because I’d never say that to you! Do you know why?" Her tears streamed down her cheeks as she continued, "Because I know it would hurt you, make you cry, 

stab you in the heart— and you’re not even really my daughter. So imagine how it feels for a daughter to hear those words from the mother who gave birth to her and meant them." Then she sat silently for a long time, a look in her eyes that was hard to interpret. Finally, she leaned closer to Nina and whispered, "Goodnight, sweetheart," planting a kiss on her forehead before getting up, turning off the lights, and quietly closing the door behind her.