Three Years After They Abandoned Me novel Chapter 6

Chapter 6

“Stella… is that really my Stella?” The voice was frail but unmistakable. Eleanor, Stella’s grandmother, leaning heavily on her cane, looked decades older than she had three years ago. With each unsteady step, she called Stella’s name like a prayer.

Stella had sworn she wouldn’t break-not here, not in front of them. But at the sound of that voice, the dam inside her shattered. Tears spilled over as she stumbled forward, her legs giving way. “Grandma,” she choked out, “it’s me. I’m home.”

Some guests wiped away tears, unable to ignore the sight of Stella-once so vibrant-now curled on the floor. The long sleeves concealed her scarred arms, but nothing could disguise her labored movements.

Her stiff, uneven gait betrayed years of confinement, her legs bearing permanent damage from being unable to stand properly.

Eleanor tossed her cane aside. Andrew rushed to steady her, but she batted him away, reaching shaking hands toward Stella. “Oh, my sweetheart, your arms! What happened to you?”

Fiona sniffled nearby. “Those monsters beat her,” she offered weakly.

Eleanor’s face twisted. She knew better. Stella hadn’t just been sent to Dusty Pines-she’d been sold there, abandoned. Even escaping hadn’t spared her the horrors. “How could they do this to you?” She tugged Stella’s sleeve gently. “Get up, darling. Let me look at you.”

Stella tried. But her legs screamed in protest, muscles seizing as if they’d forgotten how to hold her.

To the crowd, it might’ve looked like defiance. Max certainly thought so. His patience snapped. He strode forward and kicked her calf—not hard, but enough to make her gasp. “Enough. You’re also a Hayes. Stop humiliating us.”

Eleanor was about to stop him, but Stella’s wig chose that moment to slip. It tumbled to the floor, revealing Stella’s shaved head to the gasping room. A child nearby giggled before being hushed.

Stella didn’t scramble to cover herself. She just knelt there, exposed, while Max stared at the wig in his hand like it held answers. “What the hell?” His voice cracked. “Where’s your hair?”

Stella tried to push herself up-once, twice-but her body wouldn’t obey. Like a puppet with its strings cut, she slumped back each time.

She exhaled, detached, as if recounting someone else’s tragedy. “It turned grey. The cops helped me see a doctor. He said shaving it might let it grow back blonde. They gave me the wig so I wouldn’t be embarrassed. It’s nice, right?”

Eleanor hadn’t cried in years. But seeing Stella like this, her granddaughter who’d once treasured her glossy blonde hair like a crown, the tears came fast and hot. “Someone help her up,” she ordered, voice thick. “And put that damn wig back on her.”

Stella’s voice was barely a whisper, her face carefully blank. “Grandma, I can’t hold on anymore. Let me lie down. I’ve been standing too long, and everything hurts.”

Anyone else might’ve missed it, but Eleanor knew she was in agony.

Max, though, wasn’t buying it. Guilt twisted into irritation. “Grandma’s giving you an out. Take it,” he snapped, grabbing her arm. “Get up. You’re making it look like we’re torturing you.”

Eleanor moved faster than anyone expected. She swung her cane with surprising force, cracking it against Max’s shin. “You brute,” she roared. “She’s your sister. How could you do this to her?”

Max recoiled but didn’t fight back. Not because he couldn’t-but because Eleanor’s health had been failing since Stella disappeared. One wrong move, and he’d be responsible for worse.

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Chapter 6

Exhausted, Eleanor sank to the floor beside Stella, tears still streaming. “Fine. If you won’t get up, neither will I. Let’s sit here and talk.

Stella shifted slightly, settling into the sideways lean that had been her only comfort for years. Eleanor studied her face- pale, gaunt, etched with lines deeper than her own. This wasn’t the vibrant girl she remembered.

“You’re home now,” Eleanor murmured, stroking Stella’s cheek. “That’s all that matters. Stay with me. We’ll get you the best doctors. Whatever it takes to make you whole again.”

The contrast was jarring. Once, Stella had been radiant-bright-eyed, effortlessly graceful, her dancer’s limbs the envy of every girl at a dance academy. Even when the family doted on Anna, Stella had just smiled and moved on. Now, she looked decades older, her body broken.

“Max,” Eleanor barked, “call Dr. Dewitt. Now. Money is no object.”

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