While My Husband Cheated I Married His Powerful Brother novel Chapter 179

Chapter 179: Chapter 179 The Aftermath of the Nightmare

​The recurring nightmare always started in the exact same way.

​Veyra was only seven years old again. She was small, terrified, and curled up into a tight ball behind the old fabric sofa in the corner of the living room.

​The entire house was shrouded in pitch darkness. None of the lights were on, and the only sound echoing through the cold rooms was the heavy rain pounding relentlessly against the glass windowpanes.

​Her mother was in the kitchen nearby. She was busy preparing dinner, softly humming a familiar lullaby to keep the atmosphere warm and comforting. It was a gentle, safe melody that usually brought instant peace.

​Then, without any warning, the heavy front door was kicked open with a loud, violent crash.

​A tall figure stepped into the hallway, completely wrapped in a dark raincoat. His face was covered by a painted clown mask. The red smile painted onto the mask was wide, unnatural, and completely disturbing.

​Her mother gasped, letting out a sharp scream that echoed off the walls.

​The intruder raised his right hand, revealing a heavy black handgun that gleamed under the faint outdoor streetlights.

​Before anyone could move, he pulled the trigger.

​Her mother collapsed heavily onto the floor.

​A thick pool of bright red blood began spreading rapidly across the kitchen tiles, staining everything in its path.

​Veyra wanted to scream out with all her strength. She wanted to spring up from her hiding spot, run into the kitchen, and help her mother.

​Yet her limbs felt like solid lead. She was completely frozen in place, utterly unable to move a single muscle.

​Her mother turned her head slowly, her wide eyes searching through the dim light until they locked onto Veyra’s hiding spot behind the couch. Her lips moved frantically, fighting through the pain to form words.

​Tan Tan, run!

​Veyra’s mind raced in confusion. Her official name wasn’t Tan Tan. That was a private, special nickname that only her mother used when they were alone at home.

​Run! Get out of here!

​Panic finally snapped Veyra out of her paralysis, and she ran.

​She scrambled to her feet on trembling legs and sprinted wildly toward the back staircase. She took the wooden steps two at a time, her heart hammering wildly inside her small chest. She burst into her bedroom, rushed across the floor, and shoved the heavy glass window wide open.

​The icy rain smacked directly into her face, and the howling wind whipped her hair around. Below her, the sloped roof shingles were wet and dangerously slippery.

​She forced herself out onto the ledge anyway. She gripped the metal rain gutter with white knuckles, slowly lowered her small body down over the edge, and let go.

​She hit the muddy ground hard. A sharp, burning pain shot straight up her right ankle as her joint twisted under her weight. She cried out in pain, but she didn’t let it stop her.

​She pushed herself up and kept running through the dark backyard, scrambling past the flower beds and racing out toward the open main street.

​Once her feet hit the pavement, she waved her arms frantically in the air, screaming for help at the top of her lungs.

​Car after car drove past her in the storm, but not a single driver pulled over.

​Desperate and terrified, she darted straight into the middle of the wet asphalt road.

​Bright yellow headlights cut through the heavy downpour as a fast-approaching car sped directly toward her.

​She waved her arms even higher, screaming as loudly as her lungs allowed.

​The vehicle’s brakes screeched loudly against the wet road. The driver slammed on the wheel, swerving wildly before coming to a sudden halt just inches away from her small frame.

​The driver’s side door flew open, and a middle-aged woman rushed out into the rain. Her face was deathly pale, and her voice shook with pure anger and panic.

​"What on earth are you doing?!" the woman shouted, running over. "You could have been hit! You could have been killed out here!"

​Veyra reached out with trembling hands and grabbed the woman’s coat sleeve tightly. "My mom... please! Someone hurt my mom!"

​The woman stopped cold, looking down at the girl’s soaked clothes, the red blood smudged on her small hands, and the raw terror in her tear-filled eyes.

​Without asking another question, the woman reached into her purse, pulled out her phone, and dialed emergency services immediately.

​When Veyra finally opened her eyes again, she was lying in a cold hospital bed.

​Her swollen ankle was tightly wrapped in fresh white bandages, her hands had been washed clean, and someone had changed her into dry clothes.

​A female nurse stood quietly beside the bed, checking her vitals. Her face was kind, but her eyes were filled with heavy sadness.

​"Your mother is still in the emergency room," the nurse explained softly, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "The doctors are operating on her right now."

​So Veyra waited.

​Slowly, agonizing hours ticked by into the late night, but no new updates came.

​Finally, a surgeon in blue scrubs stepped out through the double doors. His expression was grim, his eyes tired and heavy.

​"Your mother suffered four gunshot wounds to her torso," the doctor said, choosing his words carefully. "She lost a massive amount of blood before reaching us, and one of her kidneys was completely destroyed."

​He paused, letting out a long, heavy sigh. "We performed every procedure possible, but her body is simply too weak. She isn’t going to make it through the night."

​Veyra stared at him in utter silence, her vision blurring as her hands gripped the bedsheets.

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