hapter 355


    Jace stayed silent. Tanya, already bawling, tried again, her voice shaky. “Jace, I can’t do this


    without you. I don’t even know what to do anymore…”


    Still, nothing. Tanya panicked, thinking he’d hung up. “Jace? Are you there?”


    She nced at my phone, saw the call was still connected. “Jace?”


    Finally, his voice cut through–cold and sharp. “Who told you to go to my house? Did you forget what


    I said?”


    Tanya’s hand shook as she held the phone. “I didn’t have a choice. I’m just trying to protect the


    baby. You said nothing could happen to it.”


    I had to bite back augh. Just days ago, she was ready to ditch the baby in front of Desmond’s


    parents. Now she was all protective mom mode? Please.


    “Tanya, this is thest time,” Jace warned, his voice like ice.


    “Jace, wait-”


    But the call ended with a cold, empty dial tone. Tanya just stood there, gripping the phone tighter.


    “Jace.. Jace…”


    “Yeah, he hung up. Give me my phone back.” I snatched it from her hand.


    She staggered, looking like a ghost of herself, drained and empty. But I wasn’t sticking around for


    her meltdown. I had my own problems. Without another word, I drove off.


    As I drove, my head swirled with everything she said and Desmond’s death. By the time I pulled into


    the parking lot, I realized I didn’t even remember how I got there. I’d been so lost in thoughttely,


    everything felt like a blur. No idents yet, but at this rate, I was tempting fate.


    ‘Get it together,‘ I told myself.


    At the counter, I handed over the documents. The clerk gave them a quick nce, stamped them,


    and started typing something into herputer.


    Belonging ? N?velDram/a.Org.


    “Wait,” I called out suddenly.


    “What is it?” The clerk looked at me, confused.


    I nced at the screen showing my parents‘ info, then pulled out my phone and snapped a quick


    pic. Just want to keep it as a memento.”


    ”


    The clerk shrugged and finished up the process. But I found myself staring at that photo, my


    emotions swirling. They say someone only truly dies when they’re forgotten, when every trace of


    them is wiped


    away.


    As long as I’m alive, I won’t forget my parents. But everything connected to them–it was


    disappearing. The deregistration certificate in my hand, the house about to be torn down–it was like


    they were being erased piece by piece.


    “It’s done. Here are the documents,” the clerk said, sliding them over.


    I took the papers and walked back to my car. But instead of starting the engine, I just sat there for a


    while, staring at the final page of their registration info.


    Finally, I took a pic and posted it on my social feed with the caption: [I don’t have you anymore.]


    I wasn’t sure why people posted stuff online, but for me, it was like a marker. So one day, when I


    look back, I’ll remember.


    Just as I pulled into the demolition office, my phone rang. It was Hayden. I ignored it–had too much


    to do right now.


    Then Lena called. Twice.


    I sighed, figuring she saw my post. I picked up. Before she could even ask, I said, “I’m fine. Just


    signing the papers. I’ll call youter.”


    “Papers? Tanya’s at the clinic for an abortion. You gonna stop her this time or what?” Lena asked.