Chapter 12 He Gave It Back Many Times Over
“No…. it can’t be … it just can’t,” Natalie whispered, her voice breaking.
Her hands trembled violently as she desperately shoved rubble aside, her every movement strained.
Her vision blurred with a mix of tears and dust. Hot, bitter tears ran down her face, uncontrolled, stinging like acid.
The memories came flooding back–every moment spent with her children, each one sharper than the last.
The more she thought about it, the more her heart cracked open, as though a jagged knife were carving through her chest.
Her hands were raw from the debris. Cuts lined her palms, blood seeping into the dirt. But she didn’t feel it. Her focus was solely on clearing the wreckage, the weight of it all crushing her.
“I’m sorry… I should’ve taken better care of you. It’s my fault… I didn’t protect you…I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…”
She wanted to fix it, to make everything right, but it was too late. She’d failed them.
“Mommy?”
A soft, innocent voice pierced through the chaos in her mind. Natalie froze, her heart leaping. Was it real, or just a desperate
illusion?
Then Christopher’s voice cut through, flat and mocking. “Natalie, has anyone ever told you that you’re loud?”
Natalie turned, her breath catching. And there they were, standing behind her–her children, safe, whole, unharmed.
The sight of them almost shattered her. She shook, overcome by the rush of relief. She pulled them into her arms, holding them tight as if letting go would mean losing them again:
Blood was strange, strange and cruel.
She’d never known the pain of childbirth, had never felt the physical bond of bringing them into the world. But in that moment, hearing they were in danger, it felt like she had lost everything.
Was this the bond of motherhood? The raw instinct to protect?
But if it was, why had she ever hurt them? Why had the 24–year–old Natalie gone
“Mommy, don’t cry.”
gone against it?
Yvonne’s small hand reached up to wipe away Natalie’s tears, her tiny fingers brushing against her cheek. She stared at the tears in her palm, her wide eyes full of disbelief.
Mommy used to cry over that jerk. Now, she cried for us.
Yvonne didn’t want her mom to cry. She couldn’t bear it. Every tear felt like a wound in her own chest.
Christopher paused for a moment, blinking as though shaken. Then, the familiar cynicism returned. He shoved Natalie aside with a scoff, his voice,cold
“Natalie, you’re really good at this. Don’t need any eye drops for those crocodile tears. What’s next? Acting lessons?”
“Chris, you can’t talk to Mominy like that!”
Yvonne stepped in front of Natalie, her small body blocking her brother, her eyes flashing with a fire that seemed way too big for her tiny frame.
Christopher sneered, rolling his eyes, then turned away. Without a word, he stalked off, leaving the park behind him.
“Mommy, I’m sorry. I didn’t answer the phone earlier. Chris and I were arguing. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
Yvonne’s small hands twisted together, her brow furrowed in tension. She spoke with a fragile edge, the words coming out in
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across the table to her.
“This is an experimental drug for cerebral palsy. The side effects are severe. Prolonged use leads to paralysis. Worst case, it could kill
“You’ve been asking me for a bottle of this every month for years. Then, you’ve been slipping it into Chris‘ food.”
She stared at him, disbelief clouding her thoughts. His words felt like a slow burn in her chest, but she couldn’t believe him- until he showed her the texts.
The drug. The manipulation. The text was clear, “I want to remove this obstacle for Jacques
Christopher, that sharp–eyed little boy, had latched onto Jacques with the ferocity of a hunter.
At just five years old, he wielded the precision of a seasoned strategist. Whatever Jacques did, Christopher had to be there. every time, every step. Like a shadow that wouldn’t let go.
Jacques, enraged by Christopher, had been powerless to act. Instead, he had used her his knife in her hands.
Natalie’s voice turned icy, her eyes narrowing as they met Jeremiah’s. “What else have I done to Chris?”
From Jeremiah’s words, she learned all she had done to her own son, each revelation cutting deeper than the last.
Her fingers dug into the freshly bandaged wound on her palm, the fabric tearing under the pressure. Blood began to seep through, staining the white cloth.
Jeremiah’s gaze shifted, catching the sight of her trembling hand. “Your wound’s opened,” he said softly. “It must hurt. Let me re–bandage it.”
Natalie’s face drained of color, but she didn’t answer. Her silence was louder than
It hurt, yes. It hurt deeply.
But the pain wasn’t from the wound.
any scream.
She turned, her footsteps hollow, echoing in the silence of the room. Each movement felt like she was walking through thick. suffocating air. Jeremiah’s brows furrowed as he watched her go, confusion gnawing at him.
“Natalie… have you lost your memories?” he muttered under his breath, his words barely a whisper.
Deep within him, something he’d buried long ago stirred–a forgotten love that now began to twist, growing stronger.
If she had lost her memory, was it possible she’d forgotten her obsession with Jacques? Forgotten how, at 18, she had secretly crushed on Jonathan?
“Mrs. Hyperion, your son’s condition isn’t looking good.” The doctor’s voice was heavy, his eyes studying the report in hist hands
*His kidneys are failing, Brain cells are dying. There’s not much time left.”
Jeremiah had warned hier–told her about the poison.
She had known, or at least prepared herself for the news.
But hearing it from the doctor, the words hit her like a blow, and she felt her control unravel. Her breath hitched, and tears flooded her eyes.
“Oh, are you crying now? Because you know I’m going to die? Shedding tears of happiness?” Christopher looked dead. There was nothing in his eyes but frigid fury.
“You won’t die,” Natalie whispered through her tears, voice cracking. “I won’t let you die.”
“Stop pretending to be some loving mother. I’m not Eve. I’m not falling for your crocodile tears.” He pulled out a small bottle,
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unlabeled, from his pocket. He tilted the bottle, letting the pill fall into his palm, his eyes already set on swallowing it
Natalie’s heart seized. Panic rushed through her, and without thinking, she slapped the pill from his hand “Chris, you’re not taking that anymore!”
His eyes locked onto hers–hard, cold. “Natalie, I’ve done everything you’ve asked. Don’t think you’re pulling that trick on Eve
“My request?” Natalie’s voice cracked, confusion clouding her words.
“Don’t play dumb. You made me take that poison every day. His voice was flat, deadpan, the accusation hanging in the air
“If you knew it was poison, why did you keep taking it?” Natalie’s voice barely came out.
“Because you threatened me. You told me if I didn’t take it, Eve would, She’s too stupid–believes whatever you say. I’m her brother, I have to protect her.”
Each word cut deep, a searing wound in Natalie’s chest.
A five–year–old knew what it meant to protect his sister–risking his life to shield her. But what had she done? As a mother, she had only brought harm, torment, and suffering to her children.
The weight of it hit her like a suffocating wave. She dropped to her knees, pulling Christopher into her arms, her heart breaking with each ragged breath.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”
She held her little boy tightly, his small frame trembling in her arms. As she did, Jeremiah’s words echoed in her mind.
“Chris said bad things about Jacques. As punishment, you made him drink scalding hot water.
“For Jacques, you let a snake bite him. You locked him outside in the dead of winter, in his pajamas, letting him freeze until he nearly died.
And on Chris’s birthday… you took them out to sea. When no one was looking, you pushed him into the water though he couldn’t swim….
The list was endless. Each memory, a deeper cut.
Jeremiah’s voice came again, like a distant warning. “If the kid hadn’t been so tough, he probably would’ve…” He trailed off for a moment. “Chris has every right to hate you. You gave him life, yes. But the life you gave him, he’s had to fight for it again and again.”
