Bound By A Broken Night novel Chapter 7

I can't keep thinking about the vial clenched in my hand all the way back to my place, barely aware of the streets I passed.

My thoughts spiraled relentlessly around that tiny object—how something so small could have altered the entire course of my life.

The realization drowned me in emotions so tangled I couldn’t even begin to name them.

I had grown up in a house that constantly reminded me I didn’t belong.

I was an outsider.

But what if my mother had lived? What if she had been the one to raise me? What kind of life would I have had then?

“What really happened back then?” I whispered, rubbing my thumb slowly over the vial, as if it might finally answer me.

The question hollowed me out.

“Did they steal my chance to have a mother?” I muttered, my teeth clenching as the thought sharpened—merciless, unforgiving. The mere possibility set my chest ablaze.

If that chance had truly been taken from me, then everything I had endured suddenly felt less like fate… and more like deliberate cruelty I had been forced to survive.

“Please let this be a coincidence,” I whispered, drawing in a deep, shaky breath. “Because if it isn’t… I will never forgive them.”

I pressed my palm to my chest, trying—and failing—to calm the fury rising there.

“I hope you’re not this cruel, Father.”

The anger only intensified the more I considered the truth hiding behind that vial.

“I pray that as I seek for answers about my mother’s death, you had nothing to do with it—neither you, Father, nor your family.”

My jaw clenched, the rage tightly leashed beneath the surface.

The vial said too much—but not enough. I needed proof and not mere assumptions. Solid, undeniable evidence.

And I wouldn’t find it if I stayed in Bay City.

“This place hates me,” I murmured, turning toward the window, staring out at the cold sprawl of city lights as I weighed my choices. “I can’t stay here.”

My hand drifted instinctively to my flat stomach.

“And I must protect you,” I whispered softly. “No one can know about you—for now.”

I swallowed hard.

“Please forgive me, little one. I can’t tell your father about you yet,” I confessed, cupping my palm over my abdomen, as if my unborn child could feel the warmth of my heart through my touch.

“He sees me as scheming… and I’m afraid he might hate you too.” My voice trembled.

“But we’ll get through this,” I continued softly. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. Mama will give you the life she never had. Mama will regain her dignity—for you.”

Warm tears slipped down my cheeks before I could stop them.

“Please give Mama strength,” I whispered, sniffing quietly. “You’re all I have.”

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, resolve hardening within me.

“I’ll scour the past,” I vowed. “I may not be able to change it—but I will make them answer for what they did to my life.”

The suspicious circumstances surrounding my mother’s death only strengthened my determination. Whatever had been stolen from me—my mother, my truth, my future—I would reclaim it.

“You can’t keep being foolish, Cassidy,” I told myself quietly. “It’s time to step out of the cage you locked yourself in.”

Yes. It was time.

I could no longer afford to be naïve—not when a new life depended on me, and not when the truth about my mother’s death still waited in the shadows.

Knock. Knock.

The sound snapped through the quiet room.

I turned toward the door, my eyes narrowing before flicking to the small wall clock mounted above the shelf.

Almost ten in the evening.

Who would come at this hour?

A ripple of unease crept up my spine. Moving quickly, I slipped the vial deeper into my pocket and forced my breathing to steady before walking toward the door. I peered through the peephole—And froze.

The figure standing outside made my heart drop.

She was the last person I ever expected to see at my doorstep. Curiosity tangled with dread as I reached for the handle. Before opening it, I drew in a slow, calming breath.

“Madame Rima,” I said, feigning surprise as I pulled the door open.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding,” she replied coolly, brushing past me without waiting for an invitation.

I stepped aside automatically.

“This place is… convenient for me, Madame,” I answered politely.

Now that I was no longer part of her household, I chose formality over familiarity.

Madame Rima glanced around my small rented room with open disdain before strolling toward the narrow bed.

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