Broken Canvas, Unbroken Spirit Rises

Castil

ow she had taken. She didn't flinch, didn't cry out again. Her shoulders were rigid, her head held high, her eyes

ury she must have sustained. "Please. There is a terrible mistake her

st sit down. All of us. We can talk this through. You're going to re

regret marrying a lying, cheating bitch like her! And you, Dalia, you just enable her! You

with contempt. "Both of you. You're going to get what y

de flaring. But my mother was faster. She flung hersel

ck, followed by her guttural scream. The sound ripped through me, tearing

ugh her body to mine. My heart was breaking into a thousand piec

t her! She's innocent! I swear to God, I didn't do anything! This baby is you

ntly in my arms. She was so weak, so frail. But

ifices I made for you, Keyla! I remember giving you everything, tolerating your 'art,' putting up with your

led sound, her body suddenly going limp against me. The weight shifted.

form slump to the ground. My hands, still clutching her, came away sticky and red. Bl

Mom, wake up! No! Please!" I shook her gently, but her head loll

across his face. The rage in his eyes flickered, replaced by a terrible, sicke

t, then to her nose. "She's... she's breathing," he whispered, a ragged sigh escaping his lips. He scooped her up, surprisingly gen

r blood. I scrambled for my phone, my fingers fumbling. I

nching the numbers

renewed, desperate panic. He lunged, snatching the phone fr

mother!" I screamed, tears streaming down

olent grunt, he hurled my phone against the concrete wall. It shattered into a dozen pieces, its scr

from my throat. "You ruined everything! You destroyed

r fault! All of it!" He lunged at me again, his hands grabbing my shoulders, sha

go. My nails raked his face, leaving angry red marks. My desperate struggles only seemed to fuel hi

his eyes blazing. He kicked me again,

n me. But his foot connected with my hands, then my wrists, then my forearms. A blinding flash of pain shot through my arms

're protecting it, aren't you?" he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. "Protecting h

h kick was deliberate, brutal. My fingers screamed in protest, my wrists throbbing. I felt a sickening s

tall, broad-shouldered man from before, who had returned with another ma

out! This is none of your business!" He picked up a nearby glass bottle, its contents already s

his voice hoarse. "You don't know what she's

he armchair. The violence was escalating, and they were clearly outmatched. Slowly, reluctantly, they b

wasn't it? My best friend. My business partner. The man who screwed you, and then screwed me over in a deal just last month. I should have known you two were

s, the thinly veiled contempt Jule sometimes had for Axel's ideas. Axel had always dismissed it as healthy compe

ed this. They wanted to destroy Axel, and I was just collateral damage. Bu

ne he could break without fear of immediate retaliation. He was taking out all his frustrations, all his insecurities, all his rage at Jule, on me. He was a coward. A vile, despicable coward. And in that moment, I saw him for what he truly was. My father ha