Stolen Life, Broken Heart

Stolen Life, Broken Heart

Gavin

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My name is Ryan Thorne. I was sitting on the cold hospital floor, cradling my son Leo' s lifeless body. He was gone. Killed by a monstrous "therapy" in a sensory deprivation tank. His wide, terrified eyes stared blankly, a permanent mask of horror. On the TV screen, my ex-fiancée, Sophia Hayes, was marrying a man who looked exactly like me: Ryan Thorne. But he wasn't me. He was the imposter, the man Sophia told me was my brother. A searing pain shot through my head, not from the forgotten car crash, but from memories flooding back. My name isn't Ethan Miller. It's Ryan Thorne. The real Ryan Thorne. The man on that screen had stolen my name, my face, my entire life. Five years ago, after the crash, Sophia convinced me I was "Ethan Miller," an architect who needed a kidney. She pointed to the imposter, my long-lost brother, a perfect match for my supposed kidney failure. I gave him my kidney, my identity, my inheritance. Everything. Leo, my sweet, sensitive boy, was the only real thing in that fabricated life. He overheard Sophia and the imposter laughing about their cruel deception. The man he adored wasn't his father. Shattered, Leo collapsed. Sophia, knowing his claustrophobia, locked him in the tank for "therapy." "Dad help. Scared. Dark." His last text. I found Sophia outside, watching her clock. "My son shouldn't be weak and afraid. He needs to get over his issues. Besides, how could therapy kill anyone?" she'd said. I broke in, but it was too late. Leo was gone. Now, as I held him, the full truth crashed down. "Mom," I said, dialing a number I hadn't called in five years. "It's Ryan." "I remember everything," I continued, my gaze fixed on the laughing faces on the TV. "It's time for me to leave." They took my life. They took my son. I would take it all back.

Introduction

My name is Ryan Thorne. I was sitting on the cold hospital floor, cradling my son Leo' s lifeless body.

He was gone.

Killed by a monstrous "therapy" in a sensory deprivation tank.

His wide, terrified eyes stared blankly, a permanent mask of horror.

On the TV screen, my ex-fiancée, Sophia Hayes, was marrying a man who looked exactly like me: Ryan Thorne.

But he wasn't me. He was the imposter, the man Sophia told me was my brother.

A searing pain shot through my head, not from the forgotten car crash, but from memories flooding back.

My name isn't Ethan Miller. It's Ryan Thorne. The real Ryan Thorne.

The man on that screen had stolen my name, my face, my entire life.

Five years ago, after the crash, Sophia convinced me I was "Ethan Miller," an architect who needed a kidney.

She pointed to the imposter, my long-lost brother, a perfect match for my supposed kidney failure.

I gave him my kidney, my identity, my inheritance. Everything.

Leo, my sweet, sensitive boy, was the only real thing in that fabricated life.

He overheard Sophia and the imposter laughing about their cruel deception.

The man he adored wasn't his father.

Shattered, Leo collapsed. Sophia, knowing his claustrophobia, locked him in the tank for "therapy."

"Dad help. Scared. Dark." His last text.

I found Sophia outside, watching her clock.

"My son shouldn't be weak and afraid. He needs to get over his issues. Besides, how could therapy kill anyone?" she'd said.

I broke in, but it was too late. Leo was gone.

Now, as I held him, the full truth crashed down.

"Mom," I said, dialing a number I hadn't called in five years. "It's Ryan."

"I remember everything," I continued, my gaze fixed on the laughing faces on the TV. "It's time for me to leave."

They took my life. They took my son. I would take it all back.

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The judge' s voice was a low drone, stamping out the last echoes of a life I barely recognized. "Divorce granted." My husband, Daniel, wasn' t there, called away by "duty"-a last-minute training, his lawyer smoothly explained. It was always duty, always Olivia, his "fragile" niece, who overshadowed everything. My last day at the fire station, a small comfort, was shattered when Daniel appeared, asking me to drop the papers. He even tried a surprise birthday gift, only to abandon me when Olivia had another "panic attack." I filed for divorce, expediting my transfer to a small town. But before I could leave, Daniel burst in with Olivia, whose innocent eyes hid a smirk. They' d invaded my last sanctuary. Then, I overheard Olivia, the so-called fragile niece, passionately kissing Daniel while begging him to choose her and "let me go." My world crumbled. This wasn't a family; it was a sick, twisted drama. I was the villain, destroying their codependent world. And then Olivia, in a dramatic display, ran headfirst into a wall, collapsing in a pool of blood. Daniel scooped her up, his eyes accusing me. My fault. Always my fault. I didn' t understand. How could I be blamed for her manipulative antics? How could he be so blind? This wasn't just about an affair; it was a decade of emotional suffocation. I was drowning, and he was too focused on her tears to notice. I picked up the divorce papers, the ones he hadn't received because Olivia had intercepted them. The true nature of their warped bond finally became horrifyingly clear. I drove away, toward a new city, a new life, finally ready to let go of the man who had loved duty more than me-or so I thought.

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