Rejected Their Broken Luna Chapter 120: Chap-120*The Only One Who Believes Me.*

Cynthia Dion:

"If I had done all that, I couldn't even live with myself. But I didn't. I will never harm a woman, a man, or an innocent child," I declared loudly, aware of Mr. Holt's gaze. He had urged me to end the argument instead of continuing to talk about it. However, I didn't refrain from defending myself. Her false accusations couldn't make me feel guilty about something so repulsive.

She was essentially accusing me of murder, something I would never commit.

"You succeeded. You threatened me and the--" I rudely interrupted her before she could finish.

"Maleeka! I'm begging you, please don't lie. You know how terrible things are for me right now. Please don't say anything that might make things worse," she had gone from being very affectionate to a completely different person. I understood that she was upset about losing her baby and that she had been told I had messaged Mr. Holt to persuade her to get rid of the baby. But now, she was using a lie to confirm it was me. I couldn't fathom how she had become this way.

I had assumed she had known about my situation all along. She had never directly accused me of anything. But now, not only was she accusing me and believing the absurd evidence against me, but she was also lying.

"What? Are you saying I'm lying?" She cried out, her voice growing increasingly upset and louder. "I lost my child; do you think I care about trivial matters?" She even managed to make me question whether I had threatened her.

That's how convinced she seemed.

"Enough!" Atticus eventually shouted after silently listening to everything.

"We endured a significant loss because of what happened," he took a different approach, not accusing me as she had. Instead, he said, "But that doesn't mean we should blame each other."

He had been surprised when he saw me with the bottle, but he never brought it up again.

"Really? You're trusting her over your sister?" Maleeka was clearly offended by what she was hearing.

He tried to convey what I had been saying, "I'm just saying there's no solid evidence for anything," but Maleeka didn't like it. Despite telling me the other day that he knows I didn't do anything, Mr. Holt remained silent.

"Are my words not enough?" She questioned her brother, making me look helplessly at Atticus. I was in trouble if he also sided with her.

Fortunately, Atticus remained silent and turned his head in the opposite direction, redirecting his sister's attention.

"I really appreciate you listening to me," she gave a mocking smile, shook her head, and got up, saying, "I'm leaving now."

"Maleeka!" Atticus stayed put, and the only one who called out to her was Mr. Holt.

"No, it's okay. When she realized she couldn't prove what she had accused me of, she withdrew her statement," she said, "I'm fine."

Mr. Holt shook his head in disbelief as she walked away.

He said, "I'll go after her." Mr. Holt knew that Maleeka would never listen to me. This entire meeting, which was his idea, made me wonder if he wanted me to get into this argument with Maleeka. Now that he had left, I was alone with Atticus.

"Thank you, Atticus," I managed to say to him, feeling sorry for him for being caught between his friend and his sister.

"It's okay. Just try not to get into a conflict with her," he said quietly, but his constant foot tapping on the table revealed his inner agitation.

"I don't understand why she's saying all that because, trust me, I didn't threaten her," I asked, hoping to get some clarity on the situation.

"Ah, it's okay," he replied, wincing in pain slowly.

"Are you okay?" I inquired, attempting to rise from my seat, but he stopped me with a single hand gesture. He wasn't ready for me to approach him just yet.

"I'm fine," he said. "I'm just taking some medication, and ever since I stopped eating at home, I feel like whatever poison was given to me is leaving my body. But the aftermath is tough. My body has unconsciously become dependent on it, so now I'm experiencing more blackouts and pain. But Enzo's mom said it's normal. I just need to take it easy these days and try to keep my distance from everyone. In fact, I think it's a good idea for Maleeka not to see us together these days," he added.

I sat back down and said, "I understand. Um!" I lightly rubbed my neck as I recalled the mark on it. "I wanted to talk to you about us."

Mr. Holt would be furious if he saw the mark on my neck.

Without giving it a second thought, he replied, "Not now. It can wait."

"Yeah!" I tried to persist, "But the ma---," but he shook his head and continued reading on his phone.

He suddenly got up and hurried away from me, holding the phone to his ear, saying, "I'll talk to you later."

"Damn it! What should I do now?" I muttered, feeling dejected. I shouldn't have let him leave that mark on me; I could have stopped him since he was currently overwhelmed by anxiety.

I worried and spent the rest of the day alone in the room.

I started scrolling through his social media profiles because I didn't have much else to do. What puzzled me the most was that he had deleted his earlier posts with his friends. His profile was now empty.

I noticed several posts from his friends asking about his whereabouts, but he never responded.

That's when I realized that tomorrow was his birthday.

My heart ached for him. "Aw! He's going to spend his birthday alone now that he's upset his sister."

I frowned. "His sister isn't even preparing anything for his birthday tomorrow because he sided with me."

I smirked and muttered, "If nobody's planning anything, I will."

I had decided to celebrate his birthday, knowing that Maleeka and Mr. Holt would be at the hospital that morning. I was grinning and making plans when I heard a hesitant knock at the door.

"Who could that be?" I wondered, hoping it was Atticus, but he usually texted me beforehand.

As I approached the door, I heard Mr. Holt's angry voice on the other side. My attention remained fixed on the mark on my neck, and my heart raced in my chest.

He's bound to ask why I'm wearing a turtleneck at night.

I anxiously whispered to myself, "He was supposed to stay in her room."

My body was trembling uncontrollably, and I was gasping for air.

"Open the door," he groaned, making me realize that he was also drunk. This meant more trouble for me.