No

“You are not Melanie? And you have been with me all this while?”

Melody looked up at him with hope. Yes. She had guessed it right. Adam would side with her. As she felt his hands on her shoulders, she gave him a hopeful smile and nodded…expecting him to hug her in acceptance and relief.

But in the very next moment, his fingers dug into her shoulders, the grip tightening until it sent sharp jolts of pain shooting down her arms. Melody whimpered, “Adam… you’re hurting me.”

She tried to pry his hands away, her own trembling fingers tugging at his wrists, but his grip only grew harder—unyielding—until, without warning, he shoved her back. She stumbled and crashed onto the floor, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs.

As she looked up at him in disbelief, her horror deepened when another figure stepped out from behind him. Adam’s voice was cold when he said, “Mr. Thomas… now you see what a wonderful daughter you have raised?”

Melody’s gaze darted past Adam, and her heart dropped. Standing there, looking down at her, was her father. The moment their eyes met, her mind went blank.

All the warnings her mother had drilled into her since childhood echoed in her head-never let her father see her willfulness, never let him catch even a glimpse of it. Her mother had always told her she must keep that part of herself hidden, locked away where he could never reach it. She had always been so careful, fearful that her father would discovrer her wrong doings.

And now… she froze. No. This didn’t have to be the end. She still had a chance. As far as her father was concerned, this could still be her first mistake… and first mistakes could be forgiven.

Her father’s silence was unbearable. She could feel his gaze pressing into her, heavy and cold. Pushing herself up from the floor, Melody took a hesitant step toward him. Her legs felt weak, but she forced them to move.

“Papa…” her voice cracked. She swallowed hard and tried again, “Papa, I am sorry… for deceiving all of you. I know I made a mistake. But… can you please try and understand?”

She reached him and clasped her hands together in front of her chest, her eyes locked on his face, searching for any sign of mercy. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I just… I just wanted…” She faltered, unable to finish the thought. Her words were tumbling out, desperate and trembling.

His expression didn’t change, but she thought—just for a moment—that she saw something flicker in his eyes. Doubt? Dilemma? She pressed on, her voice growing softer, more pleading. “I am still your daughter. Whatever I did… I am still your daughter, Papa. Please…”

Her vision blurred as tears streamed down her cheeks. She stepped closer and took his hand in both of hers, her grip shaking. “I promise, I will make it right. I will do whatever you say. All I wanted was to be with my love.”

She saw the conflict in his eyes, the stillness in his face beginning to crack. Her heart gave a small, hopeful leap when he finally opened his arms. She fell into them at once, sobbing into his chest as his hand came to rest gently on her head.

“It’s alright,” he murmured, his palm patting her hair. “I understand.”

Relief flooded her. She clung to him, her tears wetting his shirt, certain that she had reached him—that her father had chosen her over his anger.

But then, his voice changed—calm, almost casual—as he looked over her shoulder. “Officer,” he said, “I hope you have recorded her confession.”

Melody stiffened at the words.

She pulled back from him, just enough to see his face, her eyes wide and glassy. For a second she couldn’t process the words, couldn’t believe they had come from his mouth. When it sank in, she looked at him as if he had personally driven a knife into her.

“Papa…” her voice broke, barely a whisper.

But he didn’t look at her. His arm, once around her, dropped away as his gaze shifted somewhere behind her.

From the shadows of the room, two men stepped forward. They had been there the whole time-silent, unseen, waiting. Both wore plain clothes, but their movements were unmistakably official. One was already pulling a pair of handcuffs from his belt, the cold glint catching the light.

Melody’s heart began to pound. “What is this? What are you doing?”

Neither man answered her. The first officer approached and without warning, he seized her arm, twisting it behind her back. The steel cuffs clicked shut around her wrists with a finality that made her stomach drop.

“You have the right to remain silent,” the second officer began, his voice steady, detached. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney—”

“No! No, you don’t understand!” Melody’s voice rose, frantic. She tried to pull away, but the grip on her arm was unyielding. “Papa, tell them! Tell them to stop!”

Her father stood there, unmoving. Not a flicker of emotion crossed his face.

Her gaze darted past him, desperate, and landed on Adam. She almost tripped over her own words as she screamed, “Adam! You can’t just stand there! You know I did all of this for us! For you!”

But Adam didn’t speak. He just continued to look at her coldly as her voice cracked, raw with disbelief. “Why are you abandoning me? After everything-after everything I’ve done for you-you’re just going to let them take me?”

The officers began to lead her toward the door. She twisted in their hold, her hair falling into her face, her voice breaking into sobs. “Papa! Adam! Please! Don’t do this to me!”

No one moved. No one answered.

The sound of her own screams echoed in her ears as the door closed behind them, the last thing she saw being her father’s and Adam’s still, cold face.