Chapter 4 It Ends Here

Rosanna's cheek flared red with a vivid mark where Maia's hand had struck.

Frozen in disbelief, she barely registered Maia's voice cutting through the moment like a whip. "Who gave you the right to go through my things?"

Jarrod's expression twisted in shock, his eyes darkening with fury.

In a rush, he moved in front of Rosanna, shielding her with his body.

One look at her tear-streaked face, swollen from the rising bruise on her cheek, and something snapped inside him. His hands curled into fists.

Maia striking Rosanna was enough to make his blood boil. It was clear she had no respect for him whatsoever.

If she wouldn't listen, he'd make her. Today, she'd pay for that disrespect.

He raised his hand, ready to strike - but before it could fall, Maia's hand shot up and caught his wrist, stopping him cold.

With one swift motion, she shoved him hard. Jarrod stumbled backward, nearly losing his balance.

He stared, stunned, at the woman standing before him. The person he saw now felt like a stranger.

The Maia he remembered had always trailed after him when he occasionally visited home, like a little shadow.

But that version of her no longer existed. Four years behind bars had carved out someone sharper, someone who stood on her own.

Where had this strength come from?

He couldn't say.

Back in her early days in prison, Maia faced constant bullying and abuse - fresh bruises forming before the old ones even had a chance to fade.

Still, she never cried for help. Never lowered her head.

One day, pushed too far, she snapped. With pure rage, she sank her teeth into the prison's top dog and wrestled her to the floor. Blow after blow landed on her back, but Maia never let go.

Over time, and with Zoey's relentless training, Maia sharpened her instincts and became a fighter no one dared to provoke.

Eventually, the threats faded. She'd earned both her place and their fear.

Jarrod stayed put, placing himself between Maia and Rosanna, his glare sharp and unwavering. "Maia, you've completely lost it! We're talking about some old clothes and random junk - nothing worth a fight! And you hit Rosanna over that? Apologize. Now!"

Maia's sudden outburst caught Sandra off guard. After a short pause, she wrapped Rosanna in her arms, worry etched across her face.

She glared furiously at Maia as she said, "I'm the one who gave permission to throw out your things! Rosanna only meant well. She was going to buy everything back - new and fresh - so you wouldn't be haunted by the past! But you? You didn't just reject that. You hit her! After everything, I never thought you'd sink this low. Maia, you've truly disappointed me!"

Disappointed? A cold laugh slipped from Maia's lips.

That same line had been used four years ago - right after they framed her.

They'd shielded Rosanna back then too. And Maia? She'd been the target.

If anyone deserved to feel disappointed, it was Maia. She had already buried every last bit of hope she once held for the Morgan family.

Her eyes settled on Sandra - the woman she used to call "Mom."

There was a time Maia loved and respected Sandra, even if Sandra rarely showed she cared.

Now, that love twisted into something sharp in her chest.

"You've always known I can't stand people touching my belongings," Maia said, her voice tight with restraint. "And still, you let her throw them out. Did you even realize that Vicki's bracelet was among them?"

Sandra had always been busy and seldom paid attention to Maia's life, but this particular habit of Maia's was something she knew clearly.

But when it came to Rosanna, Sandra's judgment blurred.

Years of guilt over being absent in Rosanna's life made her overcompensate. And when Rosanna wanted something, Sandra never said no.

For more than ten years, Maia had lived the life that should've been Rosanna's - or so Sandra believed. So what harm was there in throwing out a few of her things?

To Sandra, even if Rosanna had been the one who stole the treasure from Radiant Jewels, she still thought that Maia should've taken the blame.

That thought alone washed away any lingering guilt Sandra had ever felt toward her.

"Let me remind you of your place, Maia. You're not one of us. You were only raised by us - nothing more. That keepsake from Vicki? It was always meant for a true Morgan. Even if it were still around, Rosanna would have every right to it. Who do you think you are to lay claim to it? If she wanted to burn it, that would still be her right."

A stabbing pain twisted in Maia's chest.

She could sever ties with every Morgan in that house - but not with Vicki.

That woman had loved her, protected her, and made her feel like she belonged. And now Maia had failed to guard the one thing that still connected them.

The ache in her heart deepened, sharp and unrelenting.

From the sidelines, Jarrod let out a cruel laugh. "So that's why you flipped out over some garbage. Let me guess - you're broke, and you came crawling back here to pawn whatever you could find!"

Though he had once seen the bracelet, it looked cheap to him. He never imagined that it held any real value.

With a sneer, he pulled a few bills from his wallet and tossed them at her feet. "This enough for your little trinket? Take the rest - it's on me. Consider it charity."

Maia's eyes burned with anger, rimmed red as she stared down the people she once called family.

There had been a time she believed she owed them gratitude. After all, they'd raised her for seventeen years.

That belief had led her to help them through their darkest years, without hesitation.

But now? That illusion had shattered.

What was taken from her - she would get back.

And the Morgans? They had chosen cruelty. It was time they learned that she didn't forgive and forget.

Maia let her anger subside. She took the cash Jarrod threw and smiled.

Without hesitation, she shredded the money into pieces and threw them straight at his face.

"Keep your filthy money. I'd rather have nothing than take anything from you." With that, she turned and walked straight out of the villa, not sparing anyone a second glance.

Fury twisted Jarrod's face as he clenched his jaw, burning with humiliation.

His finger jabbed toward Maia's back as she disappeared through the doorway. "You'll regret this, you ungrateful bitch! Without us, you're nothing! You'll come crawling back - I'll make sure of it!"

Sandra's face flushed red with anger, her voice rising. "We picked you up from prison this morning, Maia! That was out of the goodness of our hearts! No one forced you to walk away - you did that yourself. Don't bother returning once you leave. You made your choice. It ends here!"

A cold, humorless laugh escaped Maia's lips.

Even now, Sandra clung to the story that made her look like the victim. Her audacity was almost laughable.

Turning slowly on her heel, Maia leveled the family with a chilling stare. "Drop the act. You're not fooling anyone. You called the press yourselves. Was that supposed to be a warm welcome? Or just a performance to make yourselves look like saints in front of the cameras? You know exactly what you were doing."

And with that, she walked away, never once turning back.

Behind her, the illusion shattered, leaving the Morgans standing stiff and speechless. Their masks had cracked wide open.

Rosanna buried her face in Sandra's shoulder, voice trembling with tears. "This is all my fault. We could've been a real family."

Instead of reflecting, Jarrod and Sandra focused on comforting Rosanna, acting like Maia didn't exist.