Rebirth: The New Bride Wants A Divorce-Chapter 436: I never said that

That night, after everything had settled, Daniel and Anna lay awake and finally opened up to each other—no guarded truths, no half-confessions left behind.

Piece by piece, everything spilled out.

Daniel told her what he knew: that her father had been accused of kidnapping Kathrine—and that Kathrine herself had admitted to it.

Anna listened in silence, her mind racing.

But what troubled her most wasn’t the accusation alone.

It was what followed.

From everything she had uncovered, Kathrine’s memories had been erased. And the person who had suggested it—who had convinced Hugo signed off on it—was none other than her mother.

If it had been done to protect Kathrine from the trauma of the abduction, Anna might have understood. She might have even believed it was an act of mercy.

But now, with the pieces finally aligning, the truth felt far more unsettling.

Things were different.

Too calculated. Too deliberate.

And for the first time, Anna was forced to confront a thought she had never allowed herself before and that was her mother wasn’t as innocent as she had always seemed.

While Daniel and Anna were finally learning how to breathe in the same space again, Kathrine was doing the opposite—tearing the illusion of peace apart.

She didn’t knock.

The door to the private sitting room flew open with a force that echoed through the house, shattering the quiet evening Hugo and Roseline had been enjoying. Papers on the table rattled. Roseline jerked upright in her seat, startled, while Hugo frowned, irritation already rising before he had even turned around.

"Kathrine," Roseline snapped, standing. "What kind of behavior is this?"

Kathrine ignored her completely.

Her eyes—burning, sharp, unrecognizable—locked onto her father.

"What is this, Dad?" she demanded, holding up the thick file clenched in her hand. Her knuckles were white with fury. "Explain it to me."

Hugo’s brows knit together as he studied his daughter’s expression. Something in it made his spine stiffen. Slowly, he rose from his chair.

"Kathrine, calm down," he said, his tone authoritative. "Whatever this is, barging in like—"

"Don’t tell me to calm down," she cut in, her voice shaking despite her effort to control it. "Not tonight."

She stepped closer and shoved the file onto the table between them.

Hugo’s gaze dropped to it. Then back to her.

"What is this supposed to be?" he asked, though a flicker of unease had already crept into his eyes.

"Open it," Kathrine said. "Go on."

After a brief pause, Hugo picked up the file. The moment he flipped it open, his face changed.

Color drained from his skin.

The casual authority he carried fractured, replaced by something darker—shock, recognition, and then unmistakable dread.

Roseline leaned forward, peering at the documents.

The second her eyes landed on the contents, they widened in sheer terror.

"K-Kathrine..." she stammered, grabbing Hugo’s arm. "How did you— how did you get this?"

Kathrine finally turned to her mother, a hollow laugh escaping her lips.

"That’s what you’re worried about?" she asked bitterly. "Not what’s written there. Not what you did. Just how I found out?"

Her gaze snapped back to Hugo.

"Well?" she pressed. "Answer me."

Hugo closed the file slowly, too slowly, as if hoping the truth might vanish if he did.

"Kathrine," he said carefully, "you’re misinterpreting—"

"Stop lying to me!" she shouted, slamming her palm on the table. "Tell me the truth for once in your life!"

The room fell into a suffocating silence.

Kathrine’s chest rose and fell rapidly as she fought to keep herself together. She had wanted to take this slow. She had planned to ask questions, to ease into the truth.

But the moment she had read the reports—clinical, detached, merciless—something inside her had snapped.

"Is it true?" she asked, her voice quieter now, far more dangerous. "Did you manipulate my memories? Did you erase them?"

Hugo didn’t answer immediately.

That hesitation was all she needed.

"So it is true," she whispered. "You didn’t just hide things from me. You altered me."

"Kathrine, listen—" Roseline stepped forward desperately. "We were trying to protect you."

"Protect me?" Kathrine laughed, the sound sharp and broken. "By deciding what parts of my life I was allowed to remember?"

She turned back to her father, tears finally spilling over.

"Did I consent to this?" she demanded. "Did I ever agree to having my mind tampered with?"

Hugo’s jaw tightened. "You were a minor," he said. "You had been through severe trauma. We did what was best."

"What you thought was best," Kathrine shot back. "Not what was right."

She yanked the file open again, flipping through the pages with trembling hands.

"These reports," she said, voice cracking, "they say my memories were selectively suppressed. Not erased completely. Just... locked away."

She looked up at him, devastated.

"Do you know what that means?" she asked. "It means every nightmare I’ve had, every panic attack, every moment I felt like I was losing my grip on reality—it was because of you."

Hugo’s expression hardened, guilt quickly giving way to defensiveness.

"You were abducted," he said bluntly. "You were traumatized. The memories were destroying you."

"Then why do these reports say it was your idea?" Kathrine demanded. "Why does it say the procedure was expedited because of external risk?"

Roseline inhaled sharply.

Kathrine turned on her like a blade.

"What were you afraid of, Mom?" she asked. "That I’d remember what really happened? Or who was actually responsible?"

"That’s enough," Hugo snapped. "You’re crossing a line."

"No," Kathrine said, her voice trembling with fury. "You crossed the line years ago."

Roseline, already sensing where the conversation was heading, broke down.

"Are you saying it’s my fault?" she sobbed. "That I’m the one behind all of this?"

Kathrine studied her in silence.

Her eyes were dark—infuriated, yes—but also painfully clear. Then, slowly, a short chuckle escaped her lips. It wasn’t humor. It was disbelief. A quiet, bitter recognition of something she had seen far too many times before.

"I never said that," Kathrine replied calmly. "But now that you’ve said it yourself..."Her gaze sharpened. "...I suppose it’s something I should seriously think about."