Luna. Chapter 179

(Lyra's POV)

Elena found me in my room that afternoon, packing supplies for our nighttime cemetery visit. She knocked softly and entered without waiting for permission.

"There's something else about your mother you need to know before tonight."

I looked up from the flashlight I'd been testing. "What kind of something?"

Elena sat on the edge of my bed, her expression more serious than I'd seen since we'd started discussing family secrets.

"Lyra, your mother didn't just endure Malachar's stalking. She endured other things too."

"What other things?"

"Physical abuse. Emotional manipulation. Years of systematic torment that went far beyond what your father described."

I felt the blood drain from my face. "What are you talking about?"

"Before Isabella chose your father, she lived with Malachar for six months."

"Lived with him?"

"He convinced her to move in with him by saying he wanted to help her through a difficult time. She'd lost her job, was behind on rent, feeling vulnerable and isolated."

"And he took advantage of that."

"He presented himself as her rescuer. Offered her a place to stay until she got back on her feet, promised he wouldn't expect anything romantic in return."

I sat down hard on the bed. "But that wasn't true."

"It was never true. From the first day Isabella moved in, Malachar started pushing boundaries. Little things at first. Comments about her appearance, suggestions about what she should wear, opinions about her friends."

"Classic controlling behavior."

"It escalated quickly. Within a month, he was monitoring her phone calls, following her when she left the house, making scenes if other men talked to her."

"Why didn't she leave?"

Elena's voice was heavy with old sadness. "Because he'd isolated her from everyone who might have helped. Convinced her that her friends didn't really care about her, that her family thought she was a burden, that he was the only person who truly understood her."

"Textbook abuser tactics."

"By the time Isabella realized what was happening, she was financially dependent on him, socially isolated, and convinced that leaving would just prove she was the unstable, unreliable person he'd been telling her she was."

I felt sick. "How long did this go on?"

"Five months of psychological torture. And in the last month, physical violence."

"He hit her."

"He did more than hit her. He used his supernatural strength to hurt her in ways that wouldn't leave obvious marks. Internal bruising, pressure point manipulation, pain that looked like accidents or clumsiness."

"Elena, why didn't anyone intervene?"

"Because Isabella was too ashamed to tell anyone what was really happening. And because Malachar was very good at presenting himself as a caring boyfriend who was simply worried about his girlfriend's emotional instability."

I thought about all the domestic violence cases I'd handled as a police officer. The pattern was always the same. Isolation, control, escalation, and the victim's gradual loss of self-worth.

"How did she finally get away from him?"

"She didn't. Your father rescued her."

"How?"

"Rayn had been suspicious about Isabella's relationship with his brother for months. She'd stopped answering phone calls, declined social invitations, seemed nervous and jumpy when they did see her."

"So he investigated."

"He started showing up at Malachar's apartment unannounced. Checking on Isabella under the guise of brotherly visits."

"What did he find?"

Elena's voice dropped to a whisper. "He found Isabella with a black eye and a broken wrist, covering for Malachar by claiming she'd fallen down the stairs."

"And that's when he intervened."

"That's when he lost his mind. Rayn dragged Malachar out of the apartment and beat him unconscious in the hallway."

"Good."

"Then he packed Isabella's things and moved her into his own apartment that same night."

"How did Malachar react?"

"Badly. He filed assault charges against your father, claiming Isabella had chosen to stay with him and Rayn was interfering in their relationship."

"Did the charges stick?"

"No, because Isabella finally found the courage to tell the truth about what had been happening. But Malachar spent the next year trying to convince everyone that Isabella was lying about the abuse."

I felt rage building in my chest like a physical pressure. "He tried to discredit her."

"He told people she was mentally unstable, that she'd imagined the violence, that her injuries were self-inflicted to gain attention."

"Classic DARVO. Deny, attack, reverse victim and offender."

"Some people believed him. Malachar could be very charming when he wanted to be. Very convincing."

"But Dad believed her."

"Your father saw the evidence with his own eyes. The fear in Isabella's face, the way she flinched when Malachar moved too quickly, the careful way she positioned herself to always have an escape route."

"Is that why she fell in love with him? Because he saved her?"

Elena smiled sadly. "No, honey. Isabella fell in love with your father because he was everything Malachar wasn't. Patient, gentle, respectful of her boundaries."

"And Malachar never got over losing her."

"Malachar never got over losing his favorite victim. In his mind, Isabella belonged to him. Your father had simply stolen his property."

The full horror of what I was learning crashed over me like a wave. "Elena, if Malachar is still alive, if he really has been watching our family..."

"Then Isabella has been his prisoner for twenty-two years."

"Living out his perfect fantasy of complete control."

"Or dead because she never stopped fighting him."

I stood up abruptly, needing to move. "We have to go to that cemetery tonight. We have to find out the truth."

"Lyra, what if the truth is worse than we can handle?"

"Then we handle it anyway. Because if Mom is still alive, every day we don't look for her is another day she suffers."

Elena nodded slowly. "Your mother would be proud of you, you know. This determination to find the truth regardless of the cost."

"She would have done the same thing for me."

"Yes. She would have."

I resumed packing my supplies, but now with a different kind of urgency. Not just the need to solve a mystery, but the desperate hope of rescuing someone who had already been suffering for far too long.

"Elena, there's something I need you to promise me."

"What?"

"If we find out Mom is still alive, if we discover she's been Malachar's prisoner all these years..."

"Yes?"

"Promise me you won't try to stop me from killing him."

Elena was quiet for a long moment. "I promise I won't try to stop you from doing whatever needs to be done."

It wasn't quite the answer I'd wanted, but it was good enough.

Tonight, we'd learn the truth about Isabella Martinez.

And if that truth revealed twenty-two years of captivity and abuse, then Malachar would learn what happened to people who hurt my family.