The Love I Begged For Was Never Real novel Chapter 129

The card sitting on top was a hand-drawn birthday greeting.

The childish crayon strokes depicted a lopsided cake, with a messy line of text scribbled beside it.

“Happy Birthday, Gideon. I'll stay with you forever and ever.”

It was signed with a wobbly 'Giselle'.

Nora knelt on the rug, her hands hovering in the air. Staring at the objects scattered across the floor, her heart rate began to accelerate uncontrollably.

Around the cards lay older relics: a broken music box, faded hand-woven bracelets, heavily creased paper cutouts, and a faded orphanage name tag.

She reached out and picked up the top photo album.

The edges of the album were heavily worn from constant flipping. She opened the thick cover.

The album didn't contain Hayes family portraits, nor did it document Gideon's childhood. It was Giselle.

It was nothing but Giselle.

The very first page was a solo shot. A young girl in a brand-new pink princess dress stood timidly by the garden fountain, clutching a doll for dear life. It was Giselle, right after she had been brought to the manor.

Nora turned the pages, one by one.

The girl in the photos gradually grew up, her features becoming increasingly delicate and striking.

There were photos of Gideon and her together, and pictures of Giselle in gorgeous gowns during family banquets. But the vast majority were candid, completely unposed shots taken in secret.

Afternoon sunlight streaming through a glass window; Giselle asleep on the sofa, swallowed up by a massive men's suit jacket. The camera focus was so terrifyingly precise on the sleeping girl's defenseless face that you could see the fine peach fuzz on her cheeks.

On a garden bench, Giselle looking down, entirely focused on eating a slice of strawberry cake, a smudge of white frosting on the tip of her nose.

Late at night in the study, Giselle sitting on a massive rug putting together a puzzle, the warm overhead light cascading through her hair.

The composition, the lighting, the exact timing of every single candid shot—they all radiated a photographer who had poured his absolute soul into the lens. Gideon had hidden behind that camera, meticulously freezing every microscopic detail of Giselle's life into permanence.

His eyes had never stopped tracking that girl, documenting every single fragment of her existence.

Nora's fingers began to shake uncontrollably as she turned the pages.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify