THE LIE THAT WORE A RING - Chapter 9: Chapter 9
You are reading THE LIE THAT WORE A RING, Chapter 9: Chapter 9. Read more chapters of THE LIE THAT WORE A RING.
Dominic was changing.
Not in loud ways. In subtle ones.
He started asking fewer questions. Listening more to Alina than the children. The calm in the house was deceptive—like the surface of still water hiding a strong current beneath.
Nathaniel felt it. Sophie sensed it. But Alina?
Alina thrived in it.
It started with the journal.
Nathaniel kept one. Had for years—just a worn blue notebook filled with scribbles, memories of his mother, ideas for video games, and secrets he didn’t dare say aloud.
He hid it under a loose floorboard beneath his bed.
He never thought someone would find it.
But Alina had been cleaning—“just tidying up,” she said with a smile.
He knew she found it when Dominic pulled him aside one evening.
“You know,” his father said carefully, “Alina told me you’ve been writing things that aren’t very kind.”
Nathaniel stiffened. “She read my journal?”
Dominic sighed. “She was worried. She said it sounded like you were struggling… like maybe you were trying to make her look bad.”
Nathaniel’s eyes burned. “It’s my private thoughts.”
“Son, no one’s punishing you. We just want peace. I think it’s time to stop holding onto so much resentment. Alina has only ever tried to care for this family.”
“She’s lying.”
Dominic flinched.
But before Nathaniel could say more, Alina stepped into the doorway.
She didn’t interrupt. She didn’t even look at Nathaniel. Just gently placed a cup of coffee on Dominic’s desk, kissed his forehead, and walked out.
Like an angel.
That night, Nathaniel moved the journal. Burned the floorboard behind him.
She wouldn't get another chance.
But it didn’t matter.
She already had what she needed.
Meanwhile, Sophie had changed.
She clung to Alina more. Laughed louder around her. Drew pictures that included her in family portraits. She still missed their mother—but she didn’t speak of her anymore.
Because Alina told her not to.
“She’s in your heart,” Alina whispered at night, brushing Sophie’s hair. “But hearts are big. There’s room for more love.”
And when Sophie asked if her mother would be mad, Alina smiled sadly.
“Oh, sweet girl. Your mother would just want you to be happy.”
The lie was smooth.
Flawless.
Perfect.
But Nathaniel wasn’t done fighting.
If he couldn’t go through his dad, he’d go around him.
That’s when he remembered Maria, the housekeeper. She’d been around since before Sophie was born. She loved their mother. She had watched Alina carefully from day one.
Nathaniel found her in the laundry room.
“I need your help,” he whispered.
Maria looked over her shoulder, lowered her voice. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”
She handed him a small black notebook—her logbook. Notes of every schedule change. Meals altered. Conversations overheard.
“She’s smart,” Maria warned. “She doesn’t scream or break things. She erases. Quietly. One memory at a time.”
Nathaniel nodded.
He would build his own case now.
Not in secret pages a stepmother could find.
In truth.
Across the house, Alina sat in the glass-walled conservatory, sipping wine as rain tapped the windows like applause.
She knew Nathaniel wasn’t broken yet.
But she wasn’t worried.
Because by the time anyone believed him…
She’d be the only one holding the pieces.
Not in loud ways. In subtle ones.
He started asking fewer questions. Listening more to Alina than the children. The calm in the house was deceptive—like the surface of still water hiding a strong current beneath.
Nathaniel felt it. Sophie sensed it. But Alina?
Alina thrived in it.
It started with the journal.
Nathaniel kept one. Had for years—just a worn blue notebook filled with scribbles, memories of his mother, ideas for video games, and secrets he didn’t dare say aloud.
He hid it under a loose floorboard beneath his bed.
He never thought someone would find it.
But Alina had been cleaning—“just tidying up,” she said with a smile.
He knew she found it when Dominic pulled him aside one evening.
“You know,” his father said carefully, “Alina told me you’ve been writing things that aren’t very kind.”
Nathaniel stiffened. “She read my journal?”
Dominic sighed. “She was worried. She said it sounded like you were struggling… like maybe you were trying to make her look bad.”
Nathaniel’s eyes burned. “It’s my private thoughts.”
“Son, no one’s punishing you. We just want peace. I think it’s time to stop holding onto so much resentment. Alina has only ever tried to care for this family.”
“She’s lying.”
Dominic flinched.
But before Nathaniel could say more, Alina stepped into the doorway.
She didn’t interrupt. She didn’t even look at Nathaniel. Just gently placed a cup of coffee on Dominic’s desk, kissed his forehead, and walked out.
Like an angel.
That night, Nathaniel moved the journal. Burned the floorboard behind him.
She wouldn't get another chance.
But it didn’t matter.
She already had what she needed.
Meanwhile, Sophie had changed.
She clung to Alina more. Laughed louder around her. Drew pictures that included her in family portraits. She still missed their mother—but she didn’t speak of her anymore.
Because Alina told her not to.
“She’s in your heart,” Alina whispered at night, brushing Sophie’s hair. “But hearts are big. There’s room for more love.”
And when Sophie asked if her mother would be mad, Alina smiled sadly.
“Oh, sweet girl. Your mother would just want you to be happy.”
The lie was smooth.
Flawless.
Perfect.
But Nathaniel wasn’t done fighting.
If he couldn’t go through his dad, he’d go around him.
That’s when he remembered Maria, the housekeeper. She’d been around since before Sophie was born. She loved their mother. She had watched Alina carefully from day one.
Nathaniel found her in the laundry room.
“I need your help,” he whispered.
Maria looked over her shoulder, lowered her voice. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”
She handed him a small black notebook—her logbook. Notes of every schedule change. Meals altered. Conversations overheard.
“She’s smart,” Maria warned. “She doesn’t scream or break things. She erases. Quietly. One memory at a time.”
Nathaniel nodded.
He would build his own case now.
Not in secret pages a stepmother could find.
In truth.
Across the house, Alina sat in the glass-walled conservatory, sipping wine as rain tapped the windows like applause.
She knew Nathaniel wasn’t broken yet.
But she wasn’t worried.
Because by the time anyone believed him…
She’d be the only one holding the pieces.
End of THE LIE THAT WORE A RING Chapter 9. Continue reading Chapter 10 or return to THE LIE THAT WORE A RING book page.