Anneliese looked at Nishay with hopeful eyes. In truth, she hadn't expected her desperate plea to work at all—yet, to her astonishment, Nishay slowly reached out a trembling hand toward her.
"You want to give him a chance?" she said quietly. "Fine. Then, I'll give him that chance. Help me sit up."
Anneliese froze for several seconds before quickly rushing forward to support her. Her heart pounded. She insisted, "Grandma, are you serious? Or are you just saying that to comfort me?"
Something about Nishay's attitude tonight felt strange—unsettlingly calm.
She had been fully prepared for an explosion of anger after being caught sneaking around with Jonathan.
Instead of fury, Nishay was instead talking about giving him a chance.
Once Nishay was sitting upright, Annelise carefully propped a pillow behind her back. She patted the edge of the bed.
Anneliese sat down beside her with lingering unease.
After a long silence, she spoke, her voice low and heavy. "Do you think I've been unreasonable all these years? Too harsh and too heartless?"
Anneliese shook her head immediately. "No, Grandma. I know you've never been able to let go of what happened to Dad."
She slowly shook her head. "What if I told you that the real person responsible for your father's death has never been brought to justice?"
Anneliese's body stiffened. Her fingers tightened unconsciously around the bedsheet.
"What do you mean?" she asked softly. "Haven't you always believed it was all because of Jonathan? That's why you refused to accept him and hated him."
A cold laugh slipped from Nishay's lips. "He was at fault. That night, your father could have escaped safely. He had already carried Jonathan out of the fire. But Jonathan told him that there were still people trapped inside the villa. Your father handed him over to Mr. Belmort without hesitation and rushed back in."
Her voice trembled slightly. "And then the explosion happened. The only one who died was your father. There wasn't a single other person inside that fire. Tell me—how could I not hate him? If he hadn't said those words, would your father have thrown his own life away?"
Anneliese's hands twisted together tightly, her chest aching as if something were strangling her heart.
She had been too young back then.
No one had ever told her the truth.
She never knew things had happened this way. The thought that my father might still be alive—if not for that one sentence…
No. I can't let myself sink into Grandma's hatred. I can't let myself drown in that resentment.


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