Chapter 82
Seeing his boss so tormented on the other end of the computer, Carl couldn’t help but feel an inexplicable sense of relief wash over him.
Yet, with that feeling came a deep sense of empathy for Matilda. What dark past had twisted and tortured her to this extent? Carl, a grown man, shuddered at the mere knowledge of these events, let alone what Matilda must have endured at the time!
How harrowing must her pain have been?
Carl could hardly bear to think that Matilda must have hated Yvan with every ounce of her being; with each stab of pain, her loathing for him grew until all the love she had turned into hatred, tormenting her endlessly through those inhumane days.
Yvan’s shoulders shook, and when he looked up again, his eyes were red and his voice hoarse. He instructed Carl, “No matter the cost, you must trace that IP address overseas!”
Someone had dared to harm Matilda under his name, to reduce her to this state- unforgivable!
Yvan’s heart quivered violently, as if a knife had been twisted into it, ripping away at the flesh, leaving him in a bone–chilling cold that seemed to freeze his very blood and made his heartbeat sting with pain.
Why had it come to this? Who would go to such lengths under his name? But Yvan knew all too well that no matter who was to blame, the original sin lay with him. alone.
He was the one who had sent Matilda to jail, who had subjected her to public humiliation, and later, whatever Matilda endured behind bars, people took it for granted.
After all, didn’t Yvan hate her enough to wish her dead? What did it matter if someone killed her? Wasn’t that what Yvan had wanted?
Yes, wasn’t that what he had wanted? Yvan closed his eyes which were slightly red, his fingertips digging in tightly as he grappled with immense pain. He had never considered how his actions had cast Matilda into such depths of despair.
And yet, this tragedy was indeed his own making. What could he do now? How did he salvage a hate that has reached a dead end?
Yvan began to panic, fearing the blazing hate in Matilda’s eyes, a hate fierce enough
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to consume her whole. How could he begin to explain that it wasn’t him who had orchestrated all of this against her back then?
Exhausted, Matilda returned home to find Gideon on the couch, his face buried in his hands. She approached to comfort him, “Bro.”
Gideon, his eyes red, rested his chin on Matilda’s forehead, “I feel like a failure. I couldn’t even protect my own sister. I watched helplessly as you were humiliated.”
“It doesn’t bother me.” Matilda’s eyes welled up, but she forced a smile, “It’s okay. Those words can’t hurt me anymore.”
She had endured pains a thousand times worse; what were these cold words? What was Yvan?
“I’m going to see someone tomorrow, someone who might be able to help,” Matilda wasn’t sure why, but she thought of this person who always seemed to point out a new path. Maybe it was worth a try.
Matilda patted Gideon on the shoulder, “We can’t be defeated so easily, Gideon. I’m fine.”
Gideon hugged her tightly. “Mat, you’re the only family I have left in this world. Our parents are gone without a trace; you’re all I have.”
Matilda looked up, tears silently streaming down her face. Yes, where indeed were their parents since that day?
