Chapter 8: The Price of Regret

After the truth came out, the Wheeler family was never the same again.

The people who once admired them disappeared one by one.

Friends stopped answering calls.

Business partners ended their relationships.

The company that my parents had protected for years began falling apart.

Not because of the fake bankruptcy.

Not because of the money.

But because everyone finally saw what kind of people they really were.

Parents who destroyed their own daughter.

My father's company was investigated.

The hidden accounts.

The fake financial reports.

The money transfers made under Lola's name.

Everything was uncovered.

The wealth they had pretended to lose was slowly taken away.

The mansion that once represented their pride became a reminder of everything they had done.

The expensive furniture.

The designer clothes.

The luxury cars.

Everything disappeared.

Just like the life they stole from me.

But the biggest punishment wasn't losing money.

It was remembering.

Every day.

Every moment.

My mother stopped sleeping.

She sat in my old room for hours, holding my childhood photos.

The room had finally been returned to me.

But I was no longer there.

She touched my old books.

My old drawings.

The small things I had left behind.

Things she had never cared about before.

One night, she found a box hidden under my bed.

Inside were letters.

Letters I had written to her and my father.

Letters I never had the courage to send.

The first one said:

"Mom, today I got my first salary. It's not much, but I wanted to buy you something."

Another one:

"Dad, I saw a family eating together at a restaurant today. I wondered what that felt like."

And the last one...

The one written a week before my death.

"I think I understand now."

"Maybe parents don't always love their children equally."

"Maybe some children are born just to give everything away."

"But I still hope that one day, when you think of me, you remember that I tried."

My mother cried until her voice disappeared.

But I only watched quietly.

Because those tears belonged to the daughter who was already gone.

Lola's life also collapsed.

The moment people discovered the truth, the love and attention she had always received disappeared.

The same people who called her a princess now called her a fraud.

She lost her friends.

She lost her reputation.

She lost the family she had spent years taking from me.

But strangely...

I didn't hate her anymore.

Maybe because I was tired.

Maybe because death had taken away my anger.

Or maybe because I finally understood...

She was also a victim of the lies created by the adults around us.

But that didn't erase what she had done.

She knew I was suffering.

She knew I was being sacrificed.

And she enjoyed being chosen.

One evening, Lola came to my grave.

For the first time, she came alone.

No expensive clothes.

No fake smile.

No audience.

Just her.

She stood there for a long time.

Then she whispered:

"Samantha..."

My soul stood beside her.

"I don't know if you can hear me."

Her voice trembled.

"But I remember everything."

"I remember when we were little."

"I remember you sharing your toys with me."

"I remember you protecting me when other kids bullied me."

She lowered her head.

"And I still chose to hurt you."

A tear fell onto my grave.

"I was scared."

"I was scared that if you came back, I would lose everything."

"So I let you lose everything instead."

For the first time...

Lola admitted the truth.

Not to save herself.

Not to get forgiveness.

Just because there was nobody left to lie to.

Months passed.

The Wheeler family became nothing more than a memory.

My father became sick from stress.

The man who once told me to endure everything...

Could no longer endure his own guilt.

My mother became quieter every day.

She stopped calling Lola her daughter.

She stopped calling anyone her child.

Because she knew...

She had lost the only person who truly loved her.

Then one night...

Something happened.

My soul felt a strange pull.

Like my time in this world was ending.

I followed the feeling.

And I found my mother sitting alone.

She was holding my picture.

"I'm sorry, Samantha."

Her voice was weak.

"I know saying sorry doesn't fix anything."

"I know I don't deserve forgiveness."

"But if there is another life..."

"Please don't come to me."

She cried.

"Find someone who chooses you first."

Someone who loves you without conditions.

Someone who protects you.

Someone who sees your worth."

For the first time...

My mother finally understood.

Love wasn't about sacrifice.

It wasn't about money.

It wasn't about duty.

Love was a choice.

And she had made the wrong one.

The next morning...

The news reported that my mother had passed away.

She left behind a letter.

A letter addressed to me.

Inside were only a few words:

"My daughter Samantha."

"I spent my whole life asking you to understand me."

"But I never tried to understand you."

"In the next life..."

"I hope I get the chance to be your mother again."

"And this time..."

"I will choose you."

I stood beside my grave.

The world around me became brighter.

The pain.

The anger.

The loneliness.

All of it slowly disappeared.

Then I heard a familiar voice.

My aunt.

The woman who had once lost her sister.

The woman who had finally discovered the truth.

She placed flowers on my grave.

And whispered softly:

"Next life..."

"Come to me."

"I will love you the way you always deserved."

A warm light surrounded me.

For the first time in years...

I felt peace.

I wasn't the forgotten daughter anymore.

I wasn't the unwanted child anymore.

I was Samantha.

A girl who deserved love.

And finally...

My soul could rest. **

The End