The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 986

Exhaustion was written all over Josiah’s face. He had clearly heard his mother's comments from the entryway, and his expression instantly darkened.

"Mom! What the hell are you talking about!"

Josiah had seen the news of Leilani's death on his phone, but unlike Zadie and Hackett, he felt a genuine pang of regret and sorrow for his sister.

Even though they had constantly been at each other's throats and despised one another, Josiah wasn't blind. He knew perfectly well that the Sloan family's ruin was entirely Hackett's doing. It had nothing to do with Leilani. In fact, if Leilani had truly wanted to destroy them, their lives would be a hundred times worse right now.

Unfortunately, Hackett had never faced reality. His massive ego convinced him that everyone else was to blame, never once reflecting on his own fatal mistakes that brought this upon them.

Startled by her son's sudden shout, Zadie pouted, looking incredibly defensive and self-righteous.

"What do you mean, what am I talking about? Where is the lie? She's dead! Isn't that fantastic news?"

"I don't recall you two being so buddy-buddy. What, now that she's dead, you've suddenly discovered her virtues and want to lecture your own parents?"

Zadie spoke with utter conviction, leaving Josiah struggling to articulate the complex knot in his chest.

He dropped the supplements onto the coffee table with a heavy thud. Taking a deep breath, his chest heaving, he tried to suppress his surging emotions. "Mom, she's gone. What's the point of talking like this? Can't you just show a little basic human decency?"

Since the family's collapse, Josiah hadn't rested for a single day. His voice was raspy with exhaustion.

He was trying to be gentle, but Zadie reacted as if he had slapped her. Her voice shrilled.

She choked, her face flushing red then draining to white. Her lips trembled as she stubbornly fired back, "That... that's because she owed us! It was the least she could do! If it weren't for her, we never would have been in a position to need her mercy in the first place!"

Staring at his mother's face—so twisted with paranoia and venom—a profound sense of helplessness crashed over Josiah.

He had no fight left in him.

He walked silently to the window. The glass in this old apartment complex was covered in grime, framing a gray, suffocating sky.

A complex, dull ache of sorrow bloomed in his chest.

It wasn't just about the cold death announcement on the news. It was the realization that his mother's arrogance and his father's delusions were like a swamp, slowly dragging him down until he suffocated in the mud.