𝙰 𝙹𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚐𝚢𝚊𝚕 (𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚋𝚒𝚊𝚗) 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢.
🕷
𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐀𝐳𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞, a confident and bold young athlete with a sharp wit and a fearless attitude. She's kn...
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ᴄᴏɴ'ᴛ
(In chap 23-24? I said she was 23 rii?, I meant 20. Mbbb y'all)
The next morning, I asked the nurse for a laptop, claiming I needed it for “therapy-related activities.” She hesitated but eventually complied, and as soon as she left, I began my search.
This time, I dug deeper, scouring old articles, social media profiles, and public records. I searched for Dom, for her father, for anything that might give me a clue.
Hours passed, and just as I was about to give up, I found it: a news article from years ago.
Diplomat Christopher Blake Resigns Amid Corruption Allegations.
My heart raced as I skimmed the article. It mentioned everything: the accusations, the fallout with my uncle, and even a vague reference to the night of my accident.
But what stood out the most was a single line near the end:
Blake has since relocated to Canada with his family, citing safety concerns.
Canada.
Dom was in Canada.
I didn’t know how I was going to find her or what I would even say when I did. But I knew one thing for certain:
I have to know the full story about everything.
The more I thought about it, the more I felt a sense of urgency. I had to find Dom, and I couldn’t rely on anyone else to help me. My family had hidden the truth from me for too long, and now it was up to me to set things right.
I spent the next few days in the hospital, recovering physically but never resting mentally. My thoughts were consumed with Dom, the truth about my accident, and the fragmented pieces of my past that I needed to put together.
But every time I thought I might be getting closer to the truth, someone in my family would distract me or pull me back. My mother was careful around me, always watching what she said, and my uncle was no better. He came to visit one afternoon, sitting by my bed with a forced smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
"How you feeling today?" he asked, his voice smooth and calm, almost too calm.
"Better," I said, trying to play it off, even though my insides were churning. "But I still have a lot of questions."
He shifted in his seat, glancing at the door as if expecting someone to walk in. "Amira, yuh know we love yuh, right?"
I nodded, but I wasn’t buying it. "But you’ve been lying to me, Uncle. You and Mommy both."
