She Turned Her Grief Into Wings novel Chapter 70

Caden stared at the woman in front of him. His thin lips parted slightly as if he wanted to speak, but he swallowed the words instead.

"Let's head inside."

Caden turned and walked into the house, leaving Helga standing alone in the garden.

Watching his retreating figure, a sharp pang of bitterness twisted in her chest.

*Caden, why does it feel like you don't treat me the same way anymore?*

Caden went inside to light incense for Helga's mother, made brief small talk with Zachary, and then prepared to leave.

Zachary offered to have him stay for dinner, but Caden smoothly declined, citing urgent matters at the office.

The second Caden's car vanished from sight, the smile melted off Zachary's face. He slowly turned to look at the woman standing behind him.

Feeling his gaze lock onto her, Helga immediately lowered her head, sheer panic flooding her eyes.

"D-Dad."

Zachary narrowed his eyes. The genial patriarch who had been chatting with Caden just moments ago had completely vanished. "You screwed it up?" he demanded.

Helga subtly backed away. "They're on the verge of divorce. You have to believe me. I can secure the spot as Mrs. Hayes."

Zachary let out a dark chuckle. The oppressive aura rolling off him made Helga feel like she was suffocating.

"Believe you? You've been back for a while now, yet it seems like he's barely giving you the time of day."

She rushed to answer, "He's probably just throwing a temporary fit. Don't worry, I can fix this."

Zachary glared at her, the glare of his gold-rimmed glasses looking remarkably sinister. "Do not disappoint me."

She heard his slow footsteps retreat. Only when he was completely out of the room did Helga finally let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

Later, she finally understood. And she hadn't just understood it—she had experienced it firsthand.

All those bruises her mother used to wear were eventually transferred onto her own skin.

She remembered when she was first brought to Germany. Her father had acted exactly the same as always.

He had prepared an elaborate princess bedroom for her, decorated perfectly in all her favorite colors.

Whenever she missed her mother, he would comfort her, take her out for walks, and read her bedtime stories.

That was until she met the blonde, blue-eyed woman. She caught them pressed aggressively against each other in his study. Furious, she demanded to know who the woman was, screaming at him for sleeping with someone else right after her mother had died.

But instead of an explanation, she got a vicious slap across the face. The blow was so brutal that blood poured relentlessly from her nose.

She was shocked. She was entirely bewildered, completely unable to fathom why the father she loved would do something like that to her.