Reborn Matriarch: Shattering The Orphan's Mask

Evelyn's eyes filled with hot, frantic tears. She realized Grant wasn't going to save her.

She pushed violently away from the table. The wooden legs of her chair scraped against the hardwood floor with a sound like a dying animal.

"You are all so cruel!" Evelyn screamed, her voice cracking.

She spun around and sprinted out of the dining room. Her footsteps pounded against the floorboards as she bolted for the front door.

Dante sat at the table for exactly one second. He looked at the angry faces around him, realized the money tap was turning off, and decided he needed to keep his meal ticket on the hook. He cursed under his breath, shoved his chair back, and jogged after her.

The heavy front door slammed shut, shaking the walls of the foyer.

The dining room was dead silent.

Then, Camren exploded.

He slammed both hands flat onto the table, rattling the plates. He shot up from his chair, his face flushed dark red with fury. He glared directly at his mother.

"Why would you do that?!" Camren roared, his voice echoing off the ceiling. "Why would you humiliate her with money like that? You have to control everything, don't you?"

Grant slammed his fist on the table. "Camren, sit down and shut your mouth."

"No!" Camren yelled back, pointing a shaking finger at the empty doorway. "This house is a gilded cage! No wonder she wants to escape! You suffocate us!"

Christa raised her hand, signaling Grant to stop.

She stood up slowly. She looked at her son, who was a full head taller than her, his chest heaving with misplaced righteous anger. There was no anger in her eyes, only a deep, heavy pity.

"Follow me," Christa said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

She turned and walked out of the dining room, heading straight for the stairs.

Camren gritted his teeth, his jaw muscles popping. He stormed after her, his heavy footsteps echoing his rage.

Christa walked into the second-floor study. She went straight to the crystal decanter on the side table. She poured two fingers of amber bourbon into a heavy glass.

She walked over to the desk and slammed the glass down in front of Camren.

"Drink it," she ordered. "Calm your nervous system down."

Camren glared at her, but the sheer authority in her voice made his body comply. He picked up the glass and threw the liquid to the back of his throat. The alcohol burned a fiery trail down his esophagus, forcing him to take a sharp breath.

Christa opened the desk drawer. She pulled out her smartphone and tapped the screen. "There's more from that same phone call this morning," Christa said, her voice completely flat. "You should hear how she talks about you." She pressed play.

"Camren is such a moron," the recording played, Evelyn's tone dripping with absolute contempt. "I swear, all I have to do is drop two tears, and he acts like a rabid dog, ready to bite his own mother for me."

Camren's pupils dilated massively. The empty bourbon glass slipped from his fingers, bouncing off the thick carpet.

He stumbled backward, his calves hitting the edge of the leather sofa. His face turned a sickly shade of gray.

"No," Camren stammered, shaking his head rapidly. "No, that's... that's AI. You faked that to get rid of her."

Christa stepped around the desk. She closed the distance between them, invading his space.

"Two years ago," Christa said, her voice sharp and precise. "You got suspended for stealing the midterm exam. You didn't do it. Evelyn stole it, panicked, and shoved it in your locker. You took the fall because she cried and said she'd be kicked out."

Camren's breath hitched. His eyes darted wildly around the room.

"Last Thanksgiving," Christa continued relentlessly. "You screamed at your father for cutting your allowance. Grant never cut it. Evelyn told you he did, right after she maxed out your shared card on designer bags."

Christa stepped even closer, forcing Camren to look directly into her eyes.

"She is not looking for freedom, Camren," Christa whispered. "She has been gaslighting you for years. She uses you as a human shield."

Camren's chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow jerks. Memories flooded his brain-every time he took the blame, every time Evelyn looked away when he got punished, the fake apologies that always ended with her asking for a favor.

The filter he had viewed her through shattered with a violent, psychological crack.

His knees gave out. He collapsed onto the leather sofa, burying his face in his hands. A raw, painful sound tore from his throat.

Christa did not reach out to touch him. She stood over him, her posture rigid.

"I don't need you to believe me right now," Christa said coldly. "Just use your own eyes and watch her next performance."

Camren slowly pulled his hands away from his face. He looked hollowed out, like a ghost. He pushed himself off the sofa and stumbled out of the study, leaving the door wide open.