Chapter 774: Mrs. Quinn, how about we join hands?
Brenda didn’t respond. And when she didn’t, Catrin stepped forward and stared at her more deeply.
"Don’t tell me this is retribution you are getting for all these years of bias," she said coldly. Her hand moved to point at the equipment beside the bed, disdain brimming in her gaze. "Because this must have been suffering isn’t nearly enough to pay the lifetime of pain and humiliation you made me go through."
Brenda’s fingers clenched the sheets, but she kept her silence. She didn’t say anything. She just let Catrin vent.
"Mom, do you hear me?" Catrin repeated again, leaning closer. "Did you? I said I won’t accept this tiny bit of suffering of yours. You deserve to go through hell for making your own daughter feel insecure in her life. For making me feel like I was never enough. You deserve to suffer the worst!"
"And what about you, Catrin?" Brenda finally spoke. Her voice was frail, but the quiet weight in her tone made Catrin pause mid-rant. "What do you deserve ... for destroying your own beautiful family with your own hands?"
Catrin’s expression shifted, her brows drew tighter as though someone had poked a finger into her deepest wound.
"I didn’t destroy my family," she hissed.
"Is that so?" Brenda’s lips curved, but there was no humour in her smile —only bitterness and the kind of regret that should have been reflected on Catrin’s face, not hers. "But I got to know that Idris had divorced you? With even him gone, you are now left with no one on your side. You lost not just your daughter, but also the husband who had vowed to never leave you."
Catrin’s gaze hardened, years of pent-up resentment flashing in her eyes. "Really?" she asked, her voice trembling with disbelief. "Even now, you blame me for it? Why don’t you ever stand by me? Did you even give birth to me, or was I just some orphan you half-heartedly took pity on?"
Brenda frowned when she heard her.
"Idris divorced me; he broke the promise! And you still blame me for everything. How could you?"
"How could I?" Brenda shifted, trying to get some leverage to sit up. The movement was slow and laboured, but Catrin didn’t lift a finger to help her. She just stood there, watching.
After a quiet struggle, Brenda managed to sit upright, her breathing uneven. She fixed her gaze on Catrin and said firmly.
"If a man like Idris chooses to divorce you after so many years of marriage, the fault lies with you. You, more than anyone, know that he is not the kind of man to give up on his promises so easily."
She didn’t give a chance to interrupt.
"And if the daughter who once gave up everything just to make you happy decides to sever ties with you without looking back, then the fault lies in you, too. Because daughters like one you had are rare to find, and I can give that to you in writing."
"Mom —"
"Stop arguing over your faults, Catrin" Brenda raised her voice, but the effort made her break into heavy coughs. Her frail frame trembled, but she persisted. "You ... you can’t just argue your way to being right. You need to accept your flaws if you ever want to change them."
For a moment, the room fell silent except for the sound of Brenda’s laboured breathing and the steady beep of machines.
"You have failed as a mother once," Brenda continued, her voice regaining a cold edge. "But I thought that with a second chance, you would do better. Yet, as always, you prove me wrong." She shook her head; clear disappointment etched in every line of her face. "You didn’t just fail to improve as a mother —you became worse. You stopped being a mother altogether. Did you think I let your audacity slip all these years for this result?"
"Mom, you can’t lecture me on how to raise my own daughter!" Catrin snapped as though she couldn’t bear another word.
But Brenda’s expression only hardened. "Your daughter?" she sneered. "Other than giving birth to her, what else have you done as a mother? Drugging her with an unfound drug to turn her into your puppet?"
"Mom!"
"Stop raising your voice, Catrin." Brenda hissed sharply. "Yelling won’t erase what you have once done to that little girl. She was your daughter —one you birthed to. You should have protected her with your life and blood." Her voice shook as another cough wracked her body, her hands gripping the sheets tightly. "But you didn’t. You pushed her into a dark abyss ... so deep, from where even you can’t pull her out. Is that how you mothered her?"
Catrin’s jaw clenched, her fingers curling into tight fists. "She didn’t drown in any abyss," she refuted shamelessly. "And don’t you dare lecture me. It’s not like you let me succeed in that? You took her away from me the moment you got to know about it. So, don’t lecture me on something that you clearly ruined. Otherwise, today it hadn’t turned out like this. Arwen wouldn’t have turned like this. She would have been the way I wanted her to be ... the way I wanted her to be. With me, on my side."
Brenda’s face twisted with a mix of sorrow and disbelief. "You are beyond redemption, Catrin," she whispered, each word carrying the weight of finality. "Leave my house at once. I don’t want to see you again ... ever."
"You are asking me to leave?" Catrin barked, incredulous. "I wasn’t here to hear your lecture. I was here for a purpose and I —"
"Take one last piece of advice from me," Brenda cut her off, her frail voice firm. "If you want to save anything, save the last ounce of redemption left in you. Go and apologize to Arwen for everything you did. She may not forgive you, but at least, when you look in the mirror later, you might be able to meet your eyes without disgust. That little bit of self-respect may be all you will have left."
Catrin’s fists tightened until her knuckles turned white. "I did nothing that should make me feel humiliated in my own eyes," she spat. "Don’t worry about me, Mom. Worry about yourself. Given your condition, you are the one in a sorry state." She paused, her tone turning determined and cold. "As for me ... I promise you this. Even without apologizing, my daughter will return to my side soon. And when she does, I will be a far better mother than you ever were. Because when I die, my daughter will be there to accompany me —very unlike you."
Brenda didn’t respond. She simply stared at her daughter with quiet pity. In that moment, a painful truth settled deep within her. Her biggest regret in life wasn’t any unfulfilled desire, any wrong choice, or any lost dream. It was her daughter —the one she had failed to bring onto the right path.
Not just Catrin. Even she failed as a mother.
As Catrin exited the room, the air seemed to grow heavier. Brenda’s breathing became increasingly laboured. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, and her complexion grew deathly pale. She reached out and clutched her chest as though holding down the pain that was making it difficult for her.
When Margaret entered the room and saw her in that state, she rushed to her side in panic. "Madam!" she called out, slamming the emergency button and shouting for the doctor.
Before she could ask Brenda anything, Brenda’s frail body suddenly slumped to the side, her head tilting limply.
"Madam!" Margaret’s scream echoed through the halls.
Xander rushed in, and a doctor followed soon after. But outside, Catrin didn’t pause. She strode towards the exit completely unaffected. A frown settled deep between her brows.
’I came here to seek my mother’s help in getting Idris to understand. But I should have known she would simply never stand on my side. Catrin shook her disappointment as she thought to herself before finally exiting the house.
As she was getting into her car, her phone rang. When she checked, it was an unknown number. She frowned at it and rejected it without any second glance. But her phone rang persistently again. And that made her glance back at it.
The number didn’t seem local.
She moved the icon to answer it before pressing it against her ears. "Hello, who is this?"
"Mrs. Quinn, how about we join hands?"
The unfamiliar voice made Catrin frown. She asked again, "Who is it?"
"Someone who could help you change the situation back in your favour. Don’t you want your daughter to return back to your side?"
"I asked, who are you?"
"You are asking too many irrelevant questions, Mrs. Quinn. It would be better if you first respond to mine, and later we can discuss the rest." The voice once again spoke through the line, and Catrin paused, considering.