Chapter 5 Black

It started with a phone call.

The screen lit up at 10:03 PM.

Mom.

She didn't answer.

She hadn't answered in years. Not since she was nineteen, when silence became her weapon. A way to say, You hurt me. You don't get to reach me anymore.

It was meant to be temporary, a few weeks of punishment. She thought her mother would call, apologize, beg. But she didn't. Just two calls that month. And then nothing.

Her mother said she wanted to help Martin find his birth mother. That she had to give him closure. In the process, she ignored her own daughter.

That silence sent Loretta spiraling. That silence made her vulnerable.

For years, she tried to compete for her mother's love. She tried to understand how Martin, the adopted kid her mother brought home one summer, had become the center of their world.

She was tired. Tired of forgiving. Tired of understanding. Tired of competing with a boy who stole everything, including their mother's love.

Her mother had chosen Martin again and again.

He wasn't even family.

And yet, suddenly, he was everything.

"He needs me more," her mother had said. Over and over again. "You're stronger, Loretta. You'll understand someday."

Even when Loretta cried.

Even when Loretta begged.

"Martin needs me more."

"He's had a hard life at the orphanage."

"Don't be a baby, Loretta."

All because her mother wanted the boy to feel a mother's love.

Loretta never understood.

So Loretta stopped trying. If her mother could keep choosing Martin, then she could learn to live without Loretta, too.

She met him at a club one month later. A smooth smile, a comforting hand. He seemed like the peaceful escape she needed from her mother and Martin.

But he became her prison.

By the time Loretta realized, it was too late.

She was twenty-one when she finally ran from HIM. When she collapsed into a stranger's cab barefoot and sobbing and told him to drive anywhere. Please, just drive.

Maybe she should have went back home to her mother and Martin.

Her mother tried to call the past years. Call after call. A different number when blocked. Sometimes a voicemail, always ending with the same plea:

"If you won't come for me, then come for your brother. We need you."

That line always made Loretta's skin crawl.

The resentment had rotted inside her, slowly. Until it hardened into distance.

Loretta knew that she was sorry. But she never picked up. Not now that she was broken.

Loretta didn't know what she wanted anymore. An apology? A time machine? Something to undo the years she'd lost?

But the guilt festered on her soul. Twisted her until it felt easier to hate her mother than to face the truth.

To survive, she needed someone to blame.

Now, at twenty-two, she sat in a dark apartment, wrapped in a cozy blanket.

Rain tapped gently against the window. The TV murmured something forgettable in the background.

Her phone lit up again.

Mom.

She turned it face down.

Let it ring. Let her mother feel a fraction of what she'd felt.

The rain picked up. She turned up the volume on the TV, pretending she didn't care, pretending she didn't want to answer

And now, she hated herself even more for still caring.

At 11:27 PM, her phone rang again.

Uncle Raymond.

That was new.

"Hello?" Her chest tightened as she answered. "Uncle?"

"Loretta," he said quickly, breathless. "It's your mom. There's been an accident. She was driving home. The rain...she lost control...she's unconscious. We are at the hospital."

The words that followed were blurry, strung together with panic.

Her mother. Car accident. Rain. Hospital.

Her body moved before her brain could process. Slippers on. Wallet. She couldn't find her key.

Rain soaked her as she ran, breath catching in her chest, eyes burning.

She remembered the sting of the cold against her feet as she stumbled through the hospital entrance. Hair soaked. Shoes squeaking. Her voice barely coherent, hands shaking, heart thundering.

She burst through the ER doors, breath catching in her throat.

"My mother... where's my mother?"

They directed her down the hall.

And then she saw him.

Martin.

He was sitting alone, elbows on his knees, drenched and pale. He looked up when she approached, eyes bloodshot and cold.

The moment he looked up, all the pain came rushing back. He didn't look surprised to see her.

"Well, look who finally decided to care. You finally decided to show up," he muttered.

Loretta froze. Her heart pounded.

"Don't start," she hissed. "Not now, Martin."

He stood slowly. "No, now's perfect. Your grand return. Pity it took a near-death to get you here, like some hero."

"Get out of my face."

"She called you, didn't she?" he said bitterly. "She always did. Begged you. And you ignored her."

"Don't you dare, Martin." Loretta spat.

"You ignored her, Loretta. For years. You didn't even care that she was alone!"

"She had you. I had no one." She wanted to scream that her life the past year had been hell. But she said nothing.

"You ignored her! She begged you, Loretta!"

She stared at him, anger rising. "You think this is my fault?"

"You know damn well it is."

"No, you don't get to say that," she snapped. "You don't get to talk like you're some saint. You were the reason she forgot she had a daughter!"

His eyes narrowed. "Because I existed?"

"Because you replaced me!" Her voice cracked. "She adopted you, and suddenly nothing I did mattered. You got everything. Her attention, her pride, her time, everything!"

"I didn't ask to be adopted!" he shouted. "I didn't ask to be dumped into your perfect little family and pretend it was home!"

"You sure didn't act like it," she hissed. "You acted like you belonged. Like you were the real child. And she let you. I stayed away because of you!"

His jaw clenched. "You think this is about me? You think she didn't cry about you every single week? You broke her."

"She broke me first," Loretta snapped, tears brimming. "She chose you over me. Every damn time."

Martin stepped closer. "And maybe she had to, because you couldn't stand not being the little child you are."

"She was supposed to be my mother too!" Loretta's voice cracked.

"She was, but maybe because you were too busy throwing tantrums to notice anyone else was hurting too! At least I tried! You ran!"

"You were a guest! A stray she picked off the street, and somehow you got to sit at the table while I watched from the damn doorway!"

Martin stood, voice sharp. "You want the truth? She cried about you every damn week. She begged me to call you. You broke her."

"She broke me." Loretta's eyes brimmed with tears. "I needed her too, but I got silence."

Martin stepped closer. "And maybe because silence was all you gave back. I didn't steal her love. You threw yours away."

Martin's face twisted. "You spoiled, selfish..."

"Fake-ass brother..."

"Jealous bitch..."

"Bastard. Thief."

That one landed hard.

Martin stepped back, wounded.

"She called you," he said, breath ragged. "Tonight. Over and over. And you are here now just because she had an accident. Just pray that she makes it if not...I don't even know. I don't."

Loretta opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

The words cut deep. The guilt hurt more than any insult could.

Uncle Raymond stepped between them, trying to diffuse the storm. "Enough. Both of you. This isn't the right time for this."

Neither of them looked at him.

The rain outside thundered against the hospital windows.

They didn't move. They couldn't.

Their mother was in the next room, unconscious, fighting for her life.

And here they were, two shattered children, still bleeding from the same wounds, still clawing at each other like it would undo the damage.

Then the doctor appeared. A soft-spoken man in navy scrubs. Kind eyes. Apologetic smile.

"Are you her family?" the doctor asked gently.

Martin and Loretta both turned and nodded.

The doctor glanced down at his chart, then back at them.

The look on the doctor's face said everything before the words even came.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "We did everything we could. But... she didn't make it. Her injuries were too severe."

A second of stunned silence.

A gasp.

And then thunder cracked across the sky.

Loretta screamed.

The sound ripped from her throat like it had been buried for years. It echoed through the hallway, raw and painful.

Her mother was gone.

And all the words she never said. I'm sorry. I missed you. I was hurt too.

Her mother was dead.

Her knees gave out.

She hit the floor.

And everything went black.