Thorns Grow After Betrayal (Celeste and Chester) novel Chapter 12

Celestine felt as if she'd plunged into an icy abyss.

With numb fingers, she dialed her daughter's number. She just wanted to ask what on earth was going on.

On the other end, Celia was hugging her rag doll, nestled up to Joanna as they snapped selfies together. When she saw her mother's name flash on the screen, her delicate brows lifted, and a flicker of annoyance crossed her eyes.

The phone kept ringing. Joanna nudged her gently. "Celia, your mom's calling. Aren't you going to pick up?"

Celia shook her head. "Ugh, Mom's such a nag. If I answer, she'll just bombard me with questions. I don't want to talk to her!"

With a quick swipe, she declined the call. Then she turned to Raymond, grumbling, "See? I told you we shouldn't have taken Mom off the blocked list. Look how little time it took for her to start calling nonstop again. I don't even know what you're so worried about."

"I'm not worried!" Raymond retorted, though the irritation on his face betrayed him. "I just thought maybe Mom forgot to say something important. You're the one who took her off the list!"

Honestly, he wished their mom would just wait a little longer before calling. This was so embarrassing.

Celia pouted. "She never forgets. Once she starts talking, she never stops—she's so annoying."

Back in Portside City, Celestine used to call them twice a day—once at breakfast, once at dinner—meticulously reminding them about everything from what to eat to what to wear. At first, they missed her and even looked forward to those calls, clinging to the routine. But as time went on, they built their own circle of friends, and with Joanna's company, their enthusiasm waned.

The twice-daily calls became one. Then, conversations rarely lasted more than ten minutes before the kids would find an excuse to hang up. In the past couple of days, they hadn't bothered to answer at all—instead, they'd just blocked her number.

As the screen of Celestine's phone faded to black in her palm, a cold emptiness seeped through her chest, snuffing out what little hope she had left.

What was she still holding on to?

Suddenly, a violent fit of coughing wracked her body, and she tasted blood. The driver, alarmed, slammed his foot on the gas and raced toward the nearest hospital.

Back at the house, Raymond watched as Celia finally finished taking pictures with Joanna. Tugging awkwardly at the hem of his shirt, he muttered, "Celia, can you take a picture of me, too?"

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