Chapter 174. The enemy Within

Cynthia’s POV

The sharp click of heels on tile draws my gaze toward the door. My breath catches.

She steps in.

Her posture is stiff, regal—shoulders square, chin raised. Her face is tight, unreadable. Not a single tremor, not even in her hands. She walks like she belongs here, like nothing is broken inside her. Like she hasn’t been locked up for years in that cold, sterile mental asylum.

I don’t get it.

How… how is she appearing normal?

She shouldn’t be. That’s not how I remember her.

A million questions flood my mind, but one word stumbles out of me before I can stop it—raw, unfiltered.

“Mom?”

She flicks her fingers in the air.