The Memory Keeper: Twisted Roots

Chapter 2: Collateral Damage

I watched her go, the door closing behind her with a quiet finality that gnawed at my chest.

Then, like an unwelcome ghost, Poppa's voice echoed in my head.

"You need to leave Toni's daughter."

I closed my laptop with a sharp snap, leaning back in my chair. Doing this to Rain—pushing her away, forcing her to drift further from me—was like a slow knife to my heart. I hated it. But I knew I had no choice.

She had already been caught in the crossfire once.

I couldn't let her get dragged into this war again.

And yet, as much as I tried to convince myself that letting her go was the right thing to do, the thought of losing her—of watching her slip away piece by piece—was more painful than any enemy I'd ever faced.

Jane cleared her throat, bringing me back to reality.

"Should I confirm your lunch with Mr. Stanton?" she asked.

I exhaled slowly, forcing the weight of my emotions into a tight, controlled space.

"Yeah. Let him know I'll be there."

Because if there was one thing I knew for certain, it was that the war was far from over. And in wars like these, love was always the first casualty.

°°°

The dining room of the Stanton Estate was as grand as ever—polished mahogany, towering windows that overlooked the sprawling gardens, and an air of old money that seemed to suffocate me more than usual today.

Poppa sat across from me, his presence as commanding as ever, dressed in one of his tailored suits, not a hair out of place. A silver platter of fresh cherry tomatoes sat between us, their vibrant red a stark contrast to the dull ache in my chest.

"Khai, try these cherry tomatoes," he said, his voice calm but laced with expectation. "They were freshly picked."

I stared at my plate, appetite nonexistent. The weight of everything—Rain, Letty, Frederick Whitmore—sat heavily on my shoulders, leaving no room for something as simple as a meal.

Poppa's keen eyes didn't miss a thing. He leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine in his glass before taking a slow sip.

"Have you thought about what I told you last time?" he asked, his voice smooth but pointed. "About Rain"

I tightened my grip on the fork, forcing my expression to remain neutral.

"I have," I replied, my tone even.

"And?" he pressed, raising an eyebrow.

I exhaled, staring at the untouched food in front of me. "I don't want her involved in this. She's been through enough already."

Poppa chuckled, the sound low and knowing. "You say that like you have a choice, Khalia."

I lifted my gaze to meet his, steeling myself against the calculated amusement in his eyes.

"Everything comes with a cost, darling," he continued. "Your enemies will find their way to those closest to you, whether you want them to or not. The longer you keep her around, the more danger she's in."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, unwilling to admit that his words echoed my own fears.

Poppa leaned forward, his voice dropping to something colder, sharper. "You think you're protecting her by keeping her in your life? No, Khai. You're painting a target on her back. The only way to keep her safe is to let her go."