CHAPTER 130: ARE YOU FAMILY?

Trish’s instincts dragged her toward the one place Ivy would always run to — her mother. The drive to the nursing home was a blur of honking horns.

When she finally arrived, she rushed through the automatic doors. "Mary Morales," she said breathlessly to the nurse at the desk. "Room number?"

The nurse looked up, frowning slightly. "I’m sorry, are you family?"

"Yes—no—I’m her daughter’s best friend," Trish said, gripping the counter. "Please. I need to see her."

The nurse hesitated. "Mrs. Morales isn’t here."

Trish blinked. "What?"

"She had an accident last night. A fall. She was taken to St. Theresa’s Medical Centre."

Trish’s heart sank to her stomach. "Oh my God..." She barely remembered thanking the nurse before sprinting back to her car, adrenaline carrying her the entire way to St. Theresa’s.

When she arrived, she was out of breath, hair frizzy, and patience hanging by a thread. She found the nurse’s station and asked about Mary Morales, expecting to see Ivy sitting by her bedside. But the nurse’s reply nearly knocked the air out of her.

"Mrs. Morales? She was discharged about thirty minutes ago."

Trish froze. "Discharged? What do you mean discharged? By who?"

"Her daughter. Signed the papers herself. Against doctor’s orders."

"What the hell?!" Trish felt her throat close up, panic clawing up her spine.

Her hands trembled as she ran them through her hair, pacing the hallway. "No, no, no. What the fuck is going on?"

There was only one person left who might have answers—or at least enough power to do something about it.

Sylvia Kane.

******

Sylvia stormed into the Kane estate. The moment the doors slammed open, the entire house seemed to flinch. Staff scattered, ducking out of sight. Her earrings glinted with every step, her fury as regal as it was terrifying.

She barreled into the large master suite. Her eyes scanned the room, half-expecting to see her father looming. But all she found was her mother, standing in the center of the room, arms flailing and chest heaving.

"Sylvia! What is going on?!"

"Where the hell is dad?" Sylvia shouted.

"Sylvia Elizabeth Kane! Have you lost your mind?"

Sylvia whirled around, eyes ablaze. "Mom...not today!" she snapped. "Where is he? Where is Dad?" There was a dangerous edge to her tone that made Anna’s stomach twist. She had never known Sylvia to be this fiery.

Anna tried to step closer, to calm the storm, but Sylvia spun on her heel. "Sylvia, please do not annoy your father with this temper. Will you talk to me first?" Anna pleaded, her hands outstretched as if to physically catch the whirlwind that was her daughter.

"And then what?!! What will you do?! Tell me!"

Anna’s hands flew to her chest as she took a tentative step closer. "What has gotten into you?" she asked. She tried to maintain composure, but the quiver in her lips betrayed her own fear.

"I love you, Mom, truly I do," Sylvia said. Her fists clenched at her sides as she took a step closer, the anger still present but laced with vulnerability.

"But whatever is happening now... is entirely your fault! You have enabled Dad since before I can remember. Allowed his excesses, turned a blind eye to his abuse. What difference will it make if I talk to you? Tell me!"

Anna felt the sting of each word. She straightened her back, took a slow breath, and looked her daughter directly in the eyes. "That...that is not true," she said softly, shaking her head.

"I don’t have time for this." She said storming out.

Sylvia moved across the expansive Kane estate grounds. Her heart pounded. She finally reached the pavilion. There he sat, Tom Kane, as poised and infuriatingly calm as ever. Sylvia’s chest heaved. "Where is she?!" she demanded.

Tom raised an eyebrow, feigning confusion. "Watch your tone, young lady," he said smoothly, leaning back in his chair. "And...where is who?" He let the question hang in the air, the casualness of his demeanor only fueling Sylvia’s fury.

"Ivy!" Sylvia spat the name. "Where is Ivy?!"

Behind her, Anna came up the pavilion steps, her hands gripping the rail. "She’s missing?" she gasped, her wide eyes scanning Tom.

Sylvia’s fists clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms. "He took her!" she shouted. She could feel every fiber of her body vibrating with adrenaline, her anger mixed with dread.

"I honestly have no idea what you are talking about," he said coolly. "Ivy is missing?"

Sylvia closed the distance between them in a few furious strides, stopping just inches from him, the heat of her body radiating intensity. "You’ve tried to take her down at every turn," she hissed, her eyes piercing his. "Why should I believe this has nothing to do with you?"

"Because it doesn’t," he said firmly, leaning forward now. "I advise you go look for her in the backwater places a...whore like her frequents. I have nothing to do with her being missing."

Sylvia’s face burned red, her teeth grinding as she stepped closer. "Look me in the eye as your daughter and lie to me, because that is what you have always done!"

Tom slammed his hand against the table. He leapt to his feet, the sudden movement making Sylvia stumble back just slightly. His eyes were thunderous, dark with anger and frustration, and his voice was a growl that shook the pavilion walls. "I have never lied to you! Keep you in the dark, yes—but never have I lied to you!"

His chest heaved as he struggled to contain the storm within him. "And right now, the truth is—read my lips—I had nothing! Nothing! To do with the bitch’s disappearance!"

Sylvia’s mouth fell open, her defiance wavering for just a heartbeat. The wind seemed to still, the gardens quieting, the estate holding its breath as father and daughter stood in a volatile standoff. Anna stepped closer, placing a tentative hand on Sylvia’s shoulder, trying to anchor the chaos with calm.

"Sylvia...look at me," she whispered. "Don’t anger your father."