---
The guards whispered about her when they thought she wasn't listening. "Bredford's not right in the head anymore." "She talks to herself… thinks someone's out to get her."
But Susana wasn't just talking. She was planning.
Her fingers ran along the faded heart-shaped scar on her chest. "Mary," she whispered with venom. "You think you've won? You think he loves you more now?"
A low laugh echoed in the silence of her cell.
It had started a month ago—news leaking into prison that George Green was rising fast. Honors, awards, a growing empire built on charity and innovation. And rumors. About a girl. About Mariana Henderson.
"I know it's you, Mary. I feel you breathing behind that fake name," she hissed, eyes wild with obsession.
A cracked piece of mirror hidden under her cot became her confidant. "He still carries your memory, but he'll forget when I burn it all down."
She had no plan yet. But revenge didn't need logic—it only needed obsession.
---
Meanwhile, George walked through the community center under construction, now nearly finished. He had named it Marina Hope House—a secret nod to the two women who raised and saved him. His grandparents joined him, Lucia wiping away a tear as she saw the mural of Mary holding a child beneath a tree.
"She would've loved this," Lucia said, her voice trembling.
George nodded. "This is for her. And for everyone like us who needed a little hope."
That night, as he scrolled through the foundation's inbox, another message arrived—from the system.
> New Incoming Message from Mariana.
His breath caught.
"George, I won't be back just yet… but I see you. Every time you shine, I feel it. I'm proud. Never stop. Love, always."
He closed his eyes, holding the moment like a flame in his chest.