CHAPTER 232: IT’S HER

Sunlight streamed through the tall glass windows of the conference room, catching glints of silver off coffee pots and the rims of untouched water glasses. Around the large oval table, faces from all corners of the world sat in quiet focus — researchers, neurologists, geneticists, and a few psychologists — each brought here by Mara Shepherd’s quiet determination.

She sat beside Steve, her hand gently resting on his, steady even as the discussion grew dense with technical language and guarded optimism.

Professor Arlen, the lead consultant Mara had personally reached out to in Zurich, was speaking. His voice, deep and deliberate, echoed faintly in the high-ceilinged room.

"Based on the scans and the behavioral data, I believe you’re on the right track," he said. "The current combination of targeted neuro-stimulation and gene therapy is showing early signs of response. It’s cautious hope — but it’s still hope."

Mara exhaled softly, her eyes flicking to Steve. He gave her a faint smile, though she could see the tiredness pooling beneath his eyes.

Other doctors nodded, murmuring in agreement, flipping through reports and test results Mara had organized with meticulous care.

She listened. Took notes. Asked questions. She was composed and intelligent, but her every glance toward her brother held the love of someone carrying far more than science could measure.

When the meeting finally adjourned, the room slowly cleared out — researchers shaking hands, exchanging cards, voices hushed and professional.

Mara turned to Steve.

"You okay?"

"I’m... tired," he admitted, rubbing his temples. "All the numbers and terms... It’s a lot."

"You were brilliant in there," she said softly, brushing a hand down his arm. "You let them see you. That matters."

Steve nodded, though his eyes were already drifting toward the floor.

"Come on," she said, signaling to one of the staff. "Let’s get you home."

Their driver was already waiting outside in the car.

Mara helped Steve into the backseat, her fingers lingering for a moment on his shoulder. She bent slightly.

"Rest, okay? I’ll join you later. I just want to finalize some notes with Arlen."

Steve looked at her with quiet gratitude. "Thanks, Morissette... for everything."

She nodded, gave him a soft smile, and stepped back as the car pulled away.

The moment it turned the corner, her posture shifted — her shoulders relaxing only slightly, her fingers tightening around the folder of documents she still held.

Another battle half-won.

—

It had been weeks since Mara last walked through the tall glass doors of Shepherd & Co., the law firm; ever since Steve’s diagnosis, her world had narrowed to hospital corridors and quiet hope.

Today, she returned.

The scent of polished wood and freshly ground coffee greeted her like a memory. Suits brushed past her, colleagues nodding warmly, surprised but pleased.

"Ms. Shepherd." "It’s good to see you." "Welcome back."

She smiled softly, appreciative but focused, stepping toward her office.

But something felt... off.

A subtle hush had fallen over the front floor. Associates gathered around a mounted screen near reception, their usual composure traded for curiosity and tension.

Mara slowed her steps.

On the screen, a news broadcaster spoke in a crisp, deliberate voice:

"—The case that has gripped the nation enters its final day. Will Maria Isabel Williams Lewis be found guilty of murder... or walk free, with the court ruling self-defense?"

Mara froze. footage shifted.

A sleek black car pulled up to the courthouse steps. Out stepped Maria Isabel — sunglasses on, posture defiant. Cameras flashed in every direction.

Then came the next car. And when the door opened, Mara’s breath caught.

Rafael. Then Ethan. Both flanked Maria as they made their way toward the courthouse entrance.

The world was watching. Mara — her heart pounding, unable to look away.

On the screen, Maria Isabel’s face was sharp and calm as ever, touched by the chaos around her. Cameras clicked. Reporters shouted. And walking beside her, not as a bystander or a curious spectator, but as her attorney, was Rafael.

Mara blinked, as if doing so would change the frame.

It didn’t.

She stood frozen, the hum of the firm behind her fading to silence in her ears. A part of her couldn’t even process the fact that it was Maria. Not yet. Her mind fixated instead on Rafael — how he walked at Maria’s side, how they exchanged a few words before entering the courthouse. Familiar words, perhaps. Words said before.

She didn’t know what she felt — jealousy? No, it was deeper. Anger. Confusion. Hurt.

Rafael had told her he was busy, tied up in a high-profile defense. He’d sounded tired, even apologetic. But never had he said the name Maria. Never would she have imagined that this was the client he was worried about.

Maria Isabel. Her childhood friend. The girl who once braided her hair and was like a sister shattered their sisterhood in one sweeping betrayal.

The betrayal still lived inside her. Dormant, mostly. But now it stirred, jagged and breathing. No wonder Ethan agreed to work with Rafael.

Rafa didn’t know the past, not really. He didn’t know what Maria had taken from her, the pain it took to forgive herself for trusting someone like that. But Ethan... Ethan knew. And he could’ve told her. He should’ve told her.

That made it worse.

She could understand secrets. Could forgive the past. But being blindsided by Maria’s case left her feeling not just angry, but... discarded.

And that cut deeper than anything.

Her fingers curled into her palm as the screen shifted again, now showing a panel of legal analysts. But Mara had stopped watching. She turned, her breath shallow, and walked out of the building.

She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t overthink it. She picked up her phone and called Stefan. "Hey," she said, her voice even. "Everything okay?" Stefan asked, instantly alert. "Is it Rafael?"

She paused. "Yes. No. I just... I need to go to Los Vinania." A beat of silence.

"Okay?" She looked out the tall windows, the city stretching ahead like a giant she suddenly felt too small for.

"Can you check in on the twins?" she asked, softer now.

"Stef, you know they’ve got an entire medical wing watching them—"

"I know. I know. Just... you’re their uncle. It matters." Stefan’s voice warmed. "I’ll stay close. Steve’s here too. Don’t worry." Mara ended the call and exhaled.

The world was still spinning around her. Too fast. Too loud. But her decision had rooted itself. She left the firm without going to her office, walked straight to the waiting car, and gave the driver one word:

"Airport."

And as the city blurred past the windows, she found herself gripping her bag tighter, not knowing exactly what waited in Los Vinania, or what seeing Maria would do to her heart.

But she was going anyway.