Chapter 5 Nightmare Or Savior?

But Eric didn't do anything. "This is my home! He's my husband! Your mother is the one who took him from me!" Kelly lost control, grabbing a pen and notebook and furiously scribbling to release her frustration. A five-year-old might not even understand words, but that didn't matter. Even so, Eric quickly positioned himself in front of his wife and daughter, looking at Kelly with pleading eyes. "Kelly, Faye is just a child. Don't let others judge her. Please ... " He was begging her—to spare him some dignity, at least in front of their daughter. Kelly stared at him in disbelief. Was he seriously asking her to take the blame as a mistress so his daughter wouldn't face criticism? If anyone deserved blame, it was Regina. She knew Eric was married and still shamelessly pursued him. Maybe it was the overwhelming despair. Kelly struck Eric hard across the face. Regina wasn't the only one at fault. If Eric had never touched her, none of that would have happened. "You witch! Why did you hit Daddy?" Faye broke free from Regina's grasp and ran toward Kelly, shoving her. Kelly was way too thin... Five years had really taken a toll on her. The force of a five-year-old was enough to send her stumbling. She hit the ground hard, her elbow scraping against the pavement, blood seeping from the wound. "Kelly!" Eric rushed forward to help her, but she recoiled, avoiding his touch. She looked at him with bitterness and fury, her eyes filled with pain. "Kelly!" Kelly scrambled to her feet, clutching her notebook and pen, and bolted in a panic. That was her home—yet she was being treated like an outcast, like a pest that needed to be driven away. "You should be ashamed of yourself for even showing your face here!" "Shame on you. You're so disgusting!" Their harsh words rang in her ears as she fled. Her entire body ached, inside and out. There wasn't a single part of her that didn't feel pain. She ran as fast as she could until her legs could carry her no further. When she finally stopped, breathless and shaking, she raised her hand and slapped herself hard, the pain leaving her numb. She hated herself. Why couldn't I speak? Why did I run away like a coward? My home, my husband—they were stolen from me. And now, I'm the one carrying all the blame? ... Silverglow Bay. It took Kelly an hour of walking before she finally arrived. She stood outside the house where she had spent her childhood, yet now it felt distant and even scary. Maybe Eric had lied. Maybe her parents were still here, waiting for her. "Hey, pretty! It's late. Why aren't you in bed?" A voice called out from the roadside. A head thug with a cigarette hanging from his lips whistled at her, a few others lounging behind him. Silverglow Bay had once been a lively neighborhood. But after most residents left due to a demolition project, it had turned into a haven for drifters and troublemakers. After five years away, Kelly barely recognized the environment. The unfamiliarity made her uneasy. She clutched her wrist tightly and tried to hurry past the thugs without drawing attention. "All alone tonight, huh?" The head thug—reeking of booze—flicked away his cigarette and grabbed her arm. Kelly had always been pretty, but it was more than just her looks. From a young age, her parents had nurtured her in music and dance, shaping not just her skills but the way she moved, the way she carried herself. She had a quiet elegance, a kind of natural poise that made her shine like a star without even trying. But years of suffering had dimmed that glow. In war-ravaged Oasisvale, her beauty had felt more like a curse than a blessing. The thug's touch sent a jolt of fear through her. Before she could stop herself, she lashed out, slapping him across the face. The thug's expression darkened with anger. "You little—" He raised his hand to strike her. Kelly flinched, instinctively dropping to the ground and shielding her head. Her body reacted on its own, instincts taking over as she curled up in defense. But before the strike could reach her, a sudden cry of pain cut through the night, followed by a heavy thud as the thug collapsed to the ground. A figure stood before her, his presence overwhelming. Kelly lifted her head, fear tightening in her chest. The glare of the light obscured his face, but she didn't need to see him—his voice alone sent shivers down her spine. "Get lost!" his deep, commanding tone cut through the air like a blade. The hooded figure loomed over them, his presence radiating an undeniable threat. The thugs didn't want trouble and quickly ran away. "Kelly, even after returning to Drakonia, you're still getting pushed around. What am I supposed to do with you?" his rough voice carried a chilling edge, sending a wave of unease through her. Kelly's knees nearly buckled, and her breath caught in her throat. Shock and fear clouded her wide eyes. Zev? He's alive? And he tracked us here? Zev Lockhart wasn't just anyone—he was a key figure in the terrorist group that had taken her team. To her, he was nothing less than a living nightmare.