Under the stars, she had slipped it onto Ava's finger and whispered, "Will you be my girlfriend"
Ava's eyes had glowed like moonlight. "You're crazy," she'd said softly, "but I love you for it. And yes"
It had been perfect. Too perfect.
Claire's voice broke through the memory. "You didn't know he had sent the driver to follow you, the same driver that took you both to the date. Adrian asked him to keep an eye on you two… to make sure you were 'behaving.' The man took pictures, videos of everything that happened that night, Bella, the pictures you saw that morning when he was angry.
Isabella's face drained of color.
Claire looked at her, her own tears spilling freely now. "When I came home that night, he was in his study. The lights were off except for his desk lamp. He was staring at those photos like a man possessed. You, kneeling in the grass, putting that ring on her hand. The way she smiled at you. I knew what was coming before he even said a word."
Her voice trembled as she continued. "He was furious. Said you were a disgrace. Said he'd make sure that girl never came near you again. He wanted to storm in her room, call her mother, even send his men to deal with the situation. I begged him to stop and wait till morning. But I saw something in his eyes that terrified me—something that said he wouldn't rest until you were 'fixed.'"
Isabella covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking. "Oh my God…"
"I waited until he fell asleep," Claire whispered. "And then I went straight to Joyce's room. She didn't understand. I couldn't explain to her the situation at hand. I asked her to ask Ava when they were gone. I gave her money, more than enough to leave that same night. I gave her a car."
"You made her leave?" Isabella's voice cracked.
"I had no choice," Claire said through tears. "I couldn't risk him finding them. So after Joyce was done packing, I went with her to Ava's room. She was sleeping—peaceful, clutching that silver ring you gave her like it meant the world."
Isabella's lips trembled.
"Joyce tried to wake her, but I stopped her. Ava would've cried, begged not to leave, and I didn't want her to go through that. Not that way." She took a shaky breath. "So I… sedated her. Just enough for her to stay asleep while Joyce carried her out. We wrapped her in a blanket, quiet as ghosts. I still remember Joyce whispering in her ear, telling her she'd be safe."
Her eyes filled again. "I watched them drive away that night—Joyce behind the wheel, Ava asleep in the backseat—and I felt like I had just buried a part of you. But I had to, Bella. I had to protect both of you from your father."
Isabella's heart felt like it was splitting in two. "You… you put her to sleep?"
Claire nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "Yes. And I hated myself for it. But when Adrian woke up the next morning, they were gone. No forwarding address, no phone number. Just gone. And he thought they moved on their own. He never knew what I did."
For a long moment, Isabella said nothing. She just stared at her mother, tears streaming down her face, her chest rising and falling as if her heart couldn't decide whether to break or breathe.
"You took her away from me," she whispered finally, voice trembling.
Claire's lips quivered, the fragile tremor moving through them as if the words she was about to speak had been locked inside her for far too long. Her fingers twitched weakly on top of the hospital blanket, pale and thin, searching until they found Isabella's hand.
"I know," she whispered, her voice strained with emotion. "I know I took away the one person you loved most."
Her eyes filled slowly with tears.
"And I've lived with that guilt every single day since," she continued. "Not a single day has passed without me remembering what I did to you."
She swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling slowly.
"But Bella… if I hadn't done it, your father might have done something far worse."
Isabella looked up at her sharply.
"You don't know the rage I saw in him that night," Claire said, her voice trembling as the memory resurfaced. "You didn't see the way his eyes changed when he found out about you and Ava. I did."
She paused, breathing unevenly.
"There was nothing gentle left in him. Nothing reasonable. Only anger… and pride. The kind of pride that destroys people."
Her grip on Isabella's hand tightened slightly.
"I couldn't let him destroy you… or her."
The room slowly fell into silence.
The only sound left was the steady beeping of the heart monitor beside Claire's bed. Each beep echoed softly through the quiet hospital room, like a metronome measuring the passing seconds of a conversation that had been waiting nine years to happen.
Isabella blinked, but the tears kept falling.
Her vision blurred as emotions she had buried deep inside her chest clawed their way back to the surface.
"I know you wanted to protect me, Mum," she whispered.
Her voice cracked painfully.
"I just wish… I wish it hadn't cost me her."
Claire closed her eyes for a moment, as if the words had struck somewhere deep inside her heart.
For a long moment neither of them spoke.
Then Isabella wiped at her face, though the tears refused to stop.
"And what about her death, Mum?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Did you fake that too… or did my father do that?"
Claire's eyes opened slowly.
She looked at her daughter with a heavy sadness that seemed older than the years between them.
"Isabella," she began quietly, choosing each word carefully. "By that time… you were already gone to the Catholic school."
The memory flickered across Isabella's mind instantly.
The day her father had sent her away.
He had called it discipline. Structure. A place that would "straighten her mind."
At the time she had been too heartbroken to question it.
But now… it felt like exile.
"Your father was still looking for Ava and her mother," Claire continued softly. "He hadn't stopped. Not for a moment."
Isabella frowned slightly.
"He was still searching for them?"
"Yes," Claire nodded faintly. "Everywhere. He had people asking questions in the neighborhood, at their workplace… even at the school."
Her eyes darkened at the memory.
"He was determined to find them."
A cold knot formed in Isabella's stomach.
"I knew that if he found them first…" Claire continued slowly, "…there would be nothing left to stop him."
Her gaze drifted toward the window before returning to Isabella.
"So I made an agreement with him."
Isabella's eyebrows pulled together in confusion.
"You made an agreement with him?"
Claire nodded.
"I told him I would make sure they stayed away. That they would never come near this house again."
Isabella stared at her.
"And he believed you?"
Claire exhaled quietly.
"He did… but he also made something very clear to me."
Her voice hardened slightly as she remembered the words.
"He said he would let them go… but if he ever saw Ava again near you or near this house…"
She paused.
"He said he had already been to prison once before. And that he wouldn't mind going again if it meant removing the thing that was turning his daughter gay."
The words hung heavily in the room.
Isabella's breath caught in her throat.
Claire's eyes filled with tears again.
"I know who your father is, Bella," she said quietly. "I know what he's capable of when his pride is involved. He's the kind of man who would destroy everything and accept the consequences later."
Her voice trembled.
"He would spend the rest of his life in prison if it meant erasing what he believed was shame."
Isabella looked down, shaking her head slightly as she processed everything.
"So… Mum," she said slowly, "you knew where they were all that while?"
Claire nodded gently.
"Yes, Bella."
Her fingers squeezed Isabella's hand again.
"I needed to keep them safe… for you."
Isabella blinked, confused.
"For me?"
"Yes."
Claire's voice softened.
"Ava kept coming over."
Isabella lifted her head suddenly.
"What?"
"She wouldn't stop," Claire said quietly. "She kept coming to the house when your father wasn't around."
Her eyes shimmered with emotion.
"She would stand outside the gate… sometimes for hours."
Isabella felt her chest tighten.
"She was crying every time," Claire continued. "Crying her lungs out. Begging me to tell her where you were."
Isabella covered her mouth as a fresh wave of tears spilled down her cheeks.
"She said she just needed to see you," Claire whispered. "Just once. Even if it was only for a minute."
Claire shook her head slowly.
"But I knew if Adrian found out… everything would fall apart."
Her voice broke slightly.
"And I had to do something about that before he did."
Isabella swallowed hard.
"So you faked her death?" she asked quietly.
Claire nodded.
"Yes."
The word landed heavily between them.
"I had to, Bella."
Silence followed.
Isabella shook her head slowly, disbelief flooding her eyes.
"Was that the only option, Mum?" she asked painfully. "Was there nothing else you could have done?"
Her voice cracked.
"I went through a lot, Mum."
The pain in her voice filled the room.
"It hurt so bad."
Claire's face crumpled with regret.
"I know," she whispered. "I know it did."
"But at that moment… it felt like the only way to make sure your father would stop searching for them."
Isabella wiped her cheeks angrily.
"Mum… faking her death shouldn't have made her disappear for nine years."
Her voice trembled with confusion.
"Is there something else you're not telling me?"
Claire froze.
Her eyes drifted away.
For a long moment she said nothing.
Isabella noticed immediately.
"Mum?" she said softly.
Claire simply held her daughter's hand.
Her thumb moved slowly across Isabella's knuckles.
Seconds passed.
Then a minute.
The silence grew heavier.
Finally Claire spoke again.
"Bella… I'm sorry for everything."
Her voice trembled.
"But you need to know something."
Isabella leaned closer.
"Ava and her mother are alive."
The words echoed inside Isabella's mind.
Alive.
Her breath caught instantly.
"Alive?" she whispered.
Claire nodded faintly.
"Yes."
Tears rolled down Isabella's face again, but this time they carried something different.
Hope.
"But I've been looking for them for nine years," Claire continued softly.
Isabella frowned.
"You've been looking for them?"
"Yes," Claire said quietly.
"Because of a mistake I made."
Isabella felt her stomach tighten.
"A mistake?"
Claire nodded.
"If I hadn't made that mistake… I would have known where they were."
Her voice dropped lower.
"I would have known every place they went… every step they took."
Isabella stared at her.
"Mum… what mistake was that?"
Claire opened her mouth.
But the words didn't come out.
Her eyes shifted away again.
The silence returned.
"Mum?" Isabella pressed gently.
Still nothing.
Claire looked tired suddenly, her breathing becoming uneven.
Finally she spoke again, though her voice was weaker now.
"We'll continue this later, Bella."
She pressed a hand lightly against her chest.
"My chest hurts."
Isabella's expression changed immediately.
Concern replaced everything else.
"It's okay, Mum," she said quickly. "Your health is more important right now."
Claire looked at her daughter for a long moment.
There was a strange sadness in her eyes.
Then she asked softly,
"What can be more important than Ava to you, Bella?"
Isabella froze.
The question hit her straight in the chest.
For nine years she had tried to bury Ava's memory.
Tried to move forward.
Tried to convince herself that the girl she loved was truly gone.
But hearing her name again… hearing that she was alive…
Everything she had suppressed rushed back.
Her voice came out as barely more than a whisper.
"I never stopped loving her."
Claire closed her eyes slowly.
A tear slipped down the side of her face.
"I know," she murmured.
Claire's hand trembled as she touched her daughter's cheek. "Some love stories aren't lost, Bella. They're just… paused until the world is safe for them again."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence was filled only with the soft hum of the machines and the faint beating of two aching hearts.
Then Isabella leaned forward, wrapping her arms around her mother. "I know you wanted the best for me, Mum. And I appreciate everything. I just… I miss her so much."
Claire stroked her daughter's hair gently. "You'll find her again, Bella. Maybe not the same way—but love like that doesn't disappear. It waits."
Outside the door, Luna and Becca stood in silence—two hearts reacting in completely different ways. Becca's eyes shimmered with tears. Bella had always kept her past with Ava vague, never sharing details, only admitting once that Ava was her first love. Now, hearing the truth unfold, Becca's chest ached for her best friend's pain.
Luna, on the other hand, felt a storm brewing inside her. Sympathy warred with jealousy. The more she heard about how deeply Ava was woven into Bella's heart, the more something inside her twisted—painful, raw, and impossible to ignore.
She leaned against the wall, whispering to herself, "Even at three years old… it was always her."
---
Back inside, Isabella sat by her mother's side until Claire's breathing slowed and she drifted into sleep. The sun filtered softly through the window, painting golden light across the white sheets.
Becca stepped in. "Hey, the doctor said visiting hours are almost over."
Isabella nodded silently, brushing her mother's hair back one last time. "I'll come back tomorrow," she whispered.
As they stepped out into the hallway, Luna walked beside her quietly. For once, she didn't reach for her hand or tease her. She simply said, "She's a strong woman, Bella. Now I see where you get it from."
Isabella smiled faintly, exhausted. "She's my anchor. Always has been."
They walked toward the elevator, their reflections in the silver doors—a girl who had lost everything, and another still trying to love her despite knowing her heart belonged to someone else.
And as the doors slid shut, Luna glanced sideways at Isabella, whispering words she didn't expect to be heard:
"I'm not giving up, Bella. Not yet."
"Isabella didn't look at her. Her reflection in the metallic wall of the elevator stared back instead — tired, distant, and just a little broken. The air between them was heavy; Becca stood behind, quiet, sensing that speaking now would feel like stepping into fire.
When the elevator dinged open, the hallway felt colder — too bright, too loud after what had just been said. They stepped out one after another, and then stopped.
Because right there, just a few steps ahead, hand in hand, were Ava and Dolly.
Ava was laughing softly at something Dolly whispered. Her head tilted back a little, eyes glowing in a way that once belonged only to Isabella. Their fingers were linked, knuckles brushing like something natural, something practiced. It was small — intimate — and yet it hit Isabella like a slap.
Becca blinked first, her eyes lighting up with excitement.
"Oh my God, Lily!" she said, waving before anyone else could react.