Transmigrated Into The True Heiress-Chapter 135: True Friendship

Outside, Malia, Orla, their mother, Sophia, Cyran, and his mom, Mrs. Carver all made their way to their cars.

"Are you alright?" Orla asked Malia who leaned her head on her shoulder as she half-hugged her outside the car. Malia’s face was pale, her usually vibrant demeanor subdued. She nodded faintly, though her silence spoke volumes.

"I’ll be fine," Malia whispered, her voice trembling. "I just... I didn’t expect tonight to turn out like this."

Orla tightened her arm around her sister. "None of us did," she murmured, glancing toward their mother, Sophia, who was speaking quietly with Mrs. Carver. The older woman’s face was etched with worry, her lips pressed into a thin line as if trying to contain her unease.

Cyran stood apart, leaning against his car, his arms crossed as he stared at the ground, lost in thought. He broke the silence with a heavy sigh. "We shouldn’t be surprised," he said, his voice low but steady. "But could any of us have imagined this? All this time, we only knew bits and pieces of what Ephyra went through—Myra bullying her, Alan leaving her for her stepsister... but the rest?" He shook his head bitterly. "Myra caused the accident that almost killed her. Her stepmother sent men to finish the job. And that bastard, Alan—he sent people to beat her up." He shook his head, frustration evident. "We called ourselves her friends, but we didn’t know anything about what she endured."

Malia pulled away from Orla’s embrace, wrapping her arms around herself. Her voice was shaky as she replied, "You’re right. But how could we have known if she never told us? And... don’t think I’m upset with her for that—I have no right to be. I didn’t live through what she did—I can’t even imagine the kind of pain she’s been through. But did you see her tonight? She wasn’t just angry. She was... someone else. It’s like the Ephyra we knew, the one we called our friend, was a mask. And this—this person we saw tonight is the real her." Her voice broke, and she wiped her eyes. "What if our friendship was a lie? What if she never cared about us?"

Sophia stepped closer, brushing away the tears that had started to stream down Malia’s cheeks. She pulled her daughter into a comforting embrace. "Malia, that’s not what’s important," she said softly. "Even if Ephyra kept things hidden, what matters is how she feels about you now. About all of you. Even if she hid her pain, that doesn’t mean she didn’t care. She’s been through so much, and I’m sure tonight wasn’t easy for her, either."

Orla crossed her arms, her expression thoughtful. "Mom’s right. Ephyra is probably in a terrible state of mind after everything. If we care about her, we need to focus on supporting her, not questioning the past."

Cyran nodded, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. "Exactly. She needs support, not judgment. We need to let her know we’re here for her."

Malia sniffled, wiping her eyes. "I know. But I doubt she went back to her family’s mansion, and there’s no way she’ll be answering her phone anytime soon. How are we supposed to reach her?"

"If I’m not mistaken," Mrs. Carver interjected, her voice calm but firm, "I saw her leave with a man and a woman. They were following closely behind her when she walked out. If we can figure out who they are—"

Her words were abruptly cut off by the piercing wail of sirens. The group turned as several police cars pulled up to the venue, their flashing lights casting an eerie glow on the scene. Officers stepped out, their expressions grim as they quickly moved toward the entrance.

"What now?" Cyran muttered, his brows furrowing.

Malia sneered, "I’m sure they are here to arrest that mother and daughter."

Mrs. Carver sighed, rubbing her temples. "Let’s hope justice is finally served. It’s the least that can happen after all this chaos."

The group lingered, watching as officers disappeared into the venue. The atmosphere was tense, the weight of the night’s revelations still heavy on their minds.

Cyran straightened, "We need to focus. If Ephyra left with someone, we can figure out who it was. She might not want to see us now, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try."

Orla nodded. "Agreed. We’ll track her down, even if it takes time. Ephyra has been through too much to face this alone."

Malia hesitated, her lips quivering. "What if she doesn’t want us anymore? What if we’re just reminders of the life she’s trying to leave behind?"

Sophia placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Malia, true friendship doesn’t dissolve that easily. Ephyra may push you away, but deep down, she’ll know she needs you. Sometimes, people just need time to heal before they let others in again."

The distant sound of screams and footsteps drew their attention as a police officer dragged Marianna toward one of the waiting squad cars. The disheveled woman thrashed in his grip, her cries echoing through the night air.

"No! Let me go! You can’t arrest me! I’m Marianna Allen! The wife of Elliott Allen!" Marianna screamed, her voice raw and shrill as she thrashed against the officer’s firm grip. "You can’t take me to prison! I didn’t do anything! Let me go already! That bitch lied—everything she said was a lie! She was framing me!" Her eyes darted around wildly, desperation bleeding through her words.

Myra clung to her mother, her nails digging into the officer’s sleeve as she shouted, "Let her go! She didn’t do anything! She’s innocent! You have no right to do this! Let her go right now, you bastards! You don’t know what you’re doing!"

The officers maintained their composure, ignoring the frantic screams as they maneuvered Marianna toward the squad car. One of them spoke calmly but firmly, "Mrs. Allen, you are under arrest for attempted murder, conspiracy, and assault. You have the right to remain silent—"

"I said let me go!" Marianna shrieked, her voice nearly breaking. She kicked out, trying to free herself, but her movements were erratic and weak.

Myra’s face was twisted in fury and desperation as she lunged at the officer, but another quickly stepped in, holding her back. "Get your hands off me!" she yelled, her voice cracking. "You can’t take her away! She’s my mom—she didn’t do anything! You’re making a mistake!" Tears streamed down her face as she struggled, her once-pristine demeanor shattered.

Mrs. Carver turned them away from the chaotic scene, shielding them from the spectacle as much as she could. "Girls, don’t look. This is their mess, not ours," she said softly, though her voice was tense with suppressed anger.

Malia, however, couldn’t tear her eyes away. Her chest heaved as she watched Marianna scream and flail, her polished image utterly ruined. "She’s still pretending she’s innocent," Malia whispered, her voice laced with disbelief. "Even after everything... she still won’t admit what she did."

Sophia scoffed, her arms crossed as she watched the scene with a cold glare. "People like her never do. They’ll lie and manipulate until their last breath."

As Marianna was finally forced into the squad car, Myra collapsed to her knees, sobbing hysterically. "You can’t do this! You’ll pay for this, all of you! I’ll make sure of it!" she screamed, her voice raw with despair. Her cries echoed through the air as the car doors slammed shut, the sound final and unforgiving.

The group stood in stunned silence as the police cars began to pull away, their sirens blaring once more.

Sophia exhaled slowly, turning to the others. "This was long overdue."

Malia nodded faintly, though her expression remained troubled.

Orla opened the car door, "Let’s go home, come on Malia."

"Yes, let’s go." The group dispersed to their respective vehicles. Malia and Orla slid into the back seat of their car, while Sophia sat in the passenger seat.

Malia sat staring out of the window as the city lights blurred past. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Orla glanced at her sister as their car navigated the quiet streets. "Are you really okay, Malia?"

Malia sighed, leaning her head against the window. "I don’t know, Orla. It’s like everything I thought I understood about Ephyra has been turned upside down. She’s so much stronger than I ever gave her credit for... but she’s also someone I barely recognize now."

"She’s still Ephyra. People change when they go through things like that, but deep down, the person we cared about is still there. We just have to figure out how to reach her."

Malia nodded faintly, though her heart felt heavy. "I hope you’re right."

___

Lyle carried her into the house, careful not to wake her as she slept soundly in his arms. Her face, though tear-streaked, looked peaceful for the first time in what felt like an eternity. He couldn’t help but marvel at the way vulnerability softened her otherwise sharp and guarded features.

Stepping inside, he navigated through the dimly lit hallways until he reached her room. He nudged the door open with his foot, crossed the threshold, and gently laid her on the bed. For a moment, he lingered, watching as she shifted slightly in her sleep, a faint frown creasing her brow.

Even in her rest, the burdens she carried seemed to haunt her.

With a sigh, Lyle knelt beside the bed, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. He had known her as Ephyra Allen for only a short time, but it felt like he’d known the weight of her pain for a lifetime. Whatever bound them—whether it was fate, chance, or something darker—he could no longer deny the pull he felt toward her. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

As he stood to leave, her hand shot out, gripping his wrist with surprising strength despite her drowsy state.