Rising from the Ashes The Heiress They Tried to Erase Novel

Chapter 1112 Chapter 1114: She paused, her eyes locking onto Jarrod's with a deliberate, loaded look. A cold suspicion crept through Jarrod's mind, dread churning in his gut. He found himself blurting out, "Are you saying Maia's behind all of this? That she's been plotting everything from the shadows?" "I can't say for certain," said Rosanna, her tone firm yet uneasy. "But I don't think Maia is reckless enough to plot against Mom and Dad.

Even if she isn't their blood, I don't believe she'd go after them unless something unbearable pushed her too far." Jarrod's thoughts scattered, leaving him hollow for a breath. Pieces of memory then rose up, slotting together in ways he hadn't noticed before. Maia had been clear-she wanted no place in the Morgan family. Still, their parents had refused to let go, pestering her with calls and messages. When she blocked their numbers, they simply found new ones and tried again, apologizing repeatedly. A sharp realization flickered in Jarrod's eyes as he faced Rosanna.

"You're too forgiving, Rosanna. Haven't you ever doubted her? She told Dad and Mom to take that trip. And don't forget, she rotted in prison for four years because of us. You think that didn't carve hatred into her?" He couldn't bring himself to say her name the way he once did. Maia wasn't a sister to him anymore. She was Maia Watson-a woman who might have tried to take their parents' lives. Every thread, every detail twisted together until Jarrod convinced himself of the truth. "I even tried calling her from other numbers," Jarrod muttered, his voice breaking with frustration.

"But she never once picked up. Rosanna, I'm not clever, and I need you to help me see this through. I need to know how to uncover what's real." Rosanna's chest eased as she quietly exhaled. Getting him to this point had cost her, but the result was exactly what she had wanted. Rosanna knew she couldn't push too hard, not yet. She had to make Jarrod believe that the discoveries were his own. "Fine then," she responded, her voice calm. "Lay everything out for me.

I want the facts, and I want the whispers you've been too afraid to say." Lɒtєѕτ чhɒρτєrѕ ιn gɑlοvєlѕ.сo Time slipped away, and the longer they spoke, the darker their faces became. "Jarrod, don't you see?" said Rosanna, her words spilling with outrage. "We've all been blinded by Maia's act. It isn't just us-it's everyone around her. She plays innocent, but it's all a performance." Her eyes drifted toward the hospital bed where their parents lay silent. "Mom, Dad, don't worry.

Jarrod and I will make sure justice is done." Jarrod pressed his hands against his temples, a storm raging in his mind. He stammered, "I need air... and a cigarette," before stepping out. Memories of Maia's cheerful smile, the way she had once trailed after him, began to crumble as though some invisible hand erased them stroke by stroke. At the same time, Rosanna's promise-"Jarrod and I will make sure justice is done"-sparked something dark in his chest, letting resentment quietly take root.

Jarrod found himself alone on the rooftop, flicking cigarette after cigarette, letting the ashes scatter wherever they fell. Despite all the signs condemning Maia, he made up his mind to face her directly and give her one last chance to tell her side. . . .