Chapter 8: The Mother Who Finally Regretted

My mother's scream echoed through the house.

"No! No, that isn't possible!"

She grabbed my father's arm, her fingers digging into his sleeve.

"They must have made a mistake. Whitney is alive. She has to be alive!"

My father didn't answer.

He simply stood there, staring at the broken phone on the floor.

For years, I had dreamed of the day my parents would finally realize how much they had hurt me.

I thought I would feel satisfied.

Instead, I felt strangely empty.

My mother stumbled upstairs and locked herself in my old room.

I followed her.

She opened the closet and pulled out a dusty box.

Inside were the few belongings I had left behind after being pushed out of their home.

A graduation photograph.

A faded childhood bracelet.

A handwritten card I had made for Mother's Day.

My mother picked up the card with trembling hands.

"Mom, I hope you like this. I saved for a long time to buy it. I love you."

Her tears finally fell.

"Whitney..."

She pressed the card against her chest.

"Why didn't you come back?"

I stared at her silently.

Because I couldn't.

Because you left me there.

Because when I begged you to believe me, you chose Scarlett.

Downstairs, Flynn suddenly shouted, "Mom!"

My mother rushed out of the room.

Flynn was standing beside the dining table, holding his phone.

"The police sent another message."

Everyone gathered around him.

The message contained photographs taken at the crime scene.

One showed the torn remains of my backpack.

Another showed the hiking trail where my belongings had been found.

Then there was a photograph of a small emergency whistle.

My father recognized it immediately.

"She always carried that," he whispered.

I remembered that whistle.

My grandmother had bought it for me before our camping trip.

She had told me, "If you ever get separated from everyone, blow this as loudly as you can."

I had done exactly that.

Again and again.

But no one came.

My mother's face crumpled when she saw it.

"She was trying to get help..."

Her voice broke.

For the first time, she understood what had happened.

I hadn't abandoned them.

I hadn't thrown a tantrum.

I hadn't disappeared to punish them.

I had been trapped in the forest, injured and alone.

And they had simply gone home without me.

Scarlett suddenly spoke.

"Mom, maybe we shouldn't look at these anymore."

My mother turned toward her.

Something in her expression had changed.

"Why?"

Scarlett froze.

"I just... I don't think it's good for you."

My mother stared at her for several seconds.

"You were the last person with Whitney before we left."

Scarlett's lips parted.

"I told you what happened."

"You said Whitney pushed you into the water."

"She did!"

My mother flinched at the sudden sharpness in Scarlett's voice.

Flynn looked between them.

"Scarlett, did Whitney really push you?"

Scarlett's eyes filled with tears.

"Of course she did! Why would I lie?"

My father remained silent.

But his eyes had become suspicious.

That night, the police returned to the house.

They brought the backpack they had recovered from the forest.

Inside was my old phone charger, a broken hair clip, and a small notebook.

My mother opened the notebook with shaking hands.

The last page contained only one sentence.

"I just want my family to believe me."

My mother collapsed into tears.

And for the first time, nobody blamed me.