The Incubus System Chapter 1147. Get to The Point

The Incubus System Chapter 1147. Get to The Point

Karla Duskblight.

Even with the orange jumpsuit and handcuffs, she carried herself with an air of deliberate composure. But she wasn’t the same. She looked thinner, her cheekbones sharper, her once-perfect complexion dulled by stress, cheap prison food, and the lack of the expensive skincare she used to drown herself in. There were new lines around her eyes and mouth.

Her brown hair was still well-groomed, combed back neatly, but without its usual shine. The slight puffiness under her eyes, the way her posture stiffened just a fraction before she sat down, it all screamed discomfort.

Guess prison wasn’t agreeing with her.

The officer escorting her barely spared us a glance as he gestured to the chair across from us. “You have ten minutes.”

Karla sat down, adjusting her sleeves out of habit. Her wrists clinked together from the cuffs as she settled in.

For a moment, nobody said anything.

Tiffany’s arms were crossed, her stare sharp enough to cut through glass. I just leaned back, hands resting on the table, watching.

Karla’s eyes flicked between the two of us. Assessing. Calculating. Like she was still playing the same game of control she always did.

Then, finally, she spoke.

“Ethan,” she said first, her voice smooth. Then, she turned to Tiffany. “Tiffany.”

Tiffany’s jaw clenched at the sound of her name coming from that mouth. “Yeah. Hi. Get to the point.”

Karla exhaled through her nose, a measured breath. She folded her hands neatly on the table, fingers interlocking. “I wanted to see you both.”

I tilted my head. “You mentioned that already. You also failed to mention why.”

She met my gaze, then Tiffany’s. “Because this might be the last time I get to.”

Tiffany scoffed. “Yeah, that’s kind of the point of prison, isn’t it?”

A flicker of irritation crossed Karla’s face but was gone just as quickly. “I know you have your… opinions. But I wanted you to hear me out. Just once.”

I exhaled slowly. “Alright.” I rested my chin on my hand, eyes locking onto hers. “Talk.”

Karla straightened, trying to gather her words. “You know the charges against me.”

And yeah, it was enough to trigger me. “We know? Oh, trust me, we know. We were the ones who almost got evicted because of you. We were the ones who had to clean up the mess. We are the ones who—”

“Ethan,” Tiffany said, holding up my hand. “Let’s not waste time getting mad at things we already know.”

I exhaled sharply but nodded. It was a stupid statement. And yeah, I lost my composure quickly just because of that.

Karla’s eyes softened, like she was relieved to have even an inch of ground. “I know I made mistakes.”

I raised a brow. “Do you?”

She paused, but only for a second. “I did what I thought was best at the time.”

Tiffany let out a bitter laugh. “Oh my God. You really are doing the ‘I only did what I had to’ speech.”

I sighed, rubbing my temple. “You stole our house. You took everything we had and left.”

Her lips pressed together. “I borrowed.”

“No, you stole.” Tiffany’s voice was sharp.

Karla’s fingers curled slightly. “I planned to pay it back.”

“And yet,” I gestured vaguely, “here you are.”

The air in the room was heavy, the scent of sterile floors and stale coffee clinging to the space. The buzz of fluorescent lights above hummed dully.

Karla finally exhaled, her shoulders dropping just slightly. “You don’t have to forgive me.”

“Good,” Tiffany muttered.

Karla glanced at her, but didn’t push it. Instead, she looked back at me. “But I don’t want to leave things like this. I don’t want my children to hate me.”

I leaned forward. “Then you shouldn’t have raised us like we were investments.”

A flicker of something—pain? Regret? Anger?—crossed her face. “I wasn’t… thinking.”

“You never were. Not about us. It was Dad who---” I paused my words since I knew it was useless.

Karla let out a slow breath, looking down at her cuffed hands for a moment before meeting my gaze again. “I just… I needed you to know that I do regret it. And if I could go back and change it, I would.”

I studied her carefully. The words sounded nice. Clean. Practiced. I tilted my head. “Would you?”

She blinked. “What?”

“If you could go back, would you really change it?” I leaned in slightly. “Or would you just try harder not to get caught?”

The way her face twitched—just slightly—was all the answer I needed.

Tiffany saw it too. She scoffed, standing up abruptly. “This is bullshit. We should go.”

Karla’s eyes widened slightly. “Tiffany, wait—”

“No. No, I don’t care.” Tiffany’s voice was sharp, cracking just a little. “I don’t need to hear your fake remorse. I don’t need to sit here and pretend like you actually give a shit about us. Because you don’t.”

Karla swallowed, her gaze flicking to me. “Ethan, please.”

Tiffany was already standing, her fingers curled into tight fists at her sides. Her whole body radiated anger, but not the kind that flared up and disappeared. This was something deeper. Colder. Sharper.

I, on the other hand, stayed seated.

“Just one question,” I said, voice calm. “Why did you ask Tiffany to come too?”

Karla stiffened. Her fingers twitched in their cuffs before she exhaled. “Because I wanted to see both of you.”

“Bullshit,” Tiffany snapped. “Try again.”

Karla’s lips pressed together, her expression unreadable for a long moment before she sighed. “Your father is sick.”

Tiffany snorted. “And?”

“He’s had a fever for two days. He’s barely eating.” She looked between us, eyes a little too steady. “That’s why I asked to meet you.”

Tiffany scoffed, shaking her head. “Dad? Sick? Good. Hope he rots.”

Karla’s expression darkened. “You shouldn’t say that.”

Tiffany’s glare hardened. “Why not?”

“Because he’s still your father.”

Tiffany laughed. But there was no humor in it. “My father?” She leaned forward, resting her hands on the table, eyes locked onto Karla like she was a particularly disgusting insect. “Must I remind you? You and my dad are the reason I never got to see my real mother before she died.”