To be with him, my mother gave up her life.
And now, it had cost me my daughter’s life to end it.
My mom had been the housekeeper at the Anderson residence, taking care of Mrs. Eleanor Watson for most of her life. The Andersons had treated her like family, and she was rewarded with yearly raises.
One day, my mom accompanied Eleanor to the mall. On the way home, they were targeted by kidnappers—desperate men who had nothing left to lose, hoping to ransom Eleanor. But my mom didn’t hesitate. She charged forward to protect her.
The kidnappers, caught off guard by an elderly woman fighting back, panicked and pulled out a knife. My mom fought with everything she had, buying enough time for the police to arrive. Eleanor was safe, but my mom… she didn’t make it.
Eleanor was shaken, her face drained of color. She kept urging my mom to hold on while they waited for the ambulance. But my mom knew the end was near. In her final moments, she thought of me.
She asked Eleanor, weakly, to make sure I would marry Ethan. Eleanor hesitated, knowing Ethan was in love with someone else. But seeing my mom’s fading strength, she reluctantly agreed.
My mom passed, but her final wish was for me to marry Ethan.
As I arranged her funeral, I tried to hold it together, but all I could think about was how much I had lost. My mom was gone, but I was left with all the wealth and comfort that came with marrying into the Anderson family.
No one knew how much it hurt. I would give it all up in a heartbeat to have her back. My dad died when I was young, and it was just me and my mom. We were everything to each other. She never knew how much she meant to me.
On the day of my wedding, Eleanor held my hand, tears streaming down her face. “Your mom can rest now,” she said, her voice breaking.
I barely felt it. I was numb. I nodded, remembering my mom’s wish. I couldn’t back out.
Ethan played the perfect gentleman, treating me with respect in front of everyone. I thought I’d found my soulmate.
But as soon as we were alone, he leaned in, his voice cold. “You used your mom’s life to get this wedding. Are you happy now?”
His words cut deep. “The person I love isn’t you. But I’ll play my part in this show. I’m your husband when we’re in public. Outside of that, I love someone else.”
And he kept his word. He showed me respect in public, but our marriage was nothing more than a performance.
When Emma was born, Ethan didn’t even smile. The only thing he said was, “Now I don’t owe you anything. Neither does my mom.”
I thought as Emma grew up, things might change. That Ethan would come back to us. But I was wrong. After Emma was born, the only one trapped was me.
Now, after ten years of holding on, I was walking away—this time with another life lost.
I moved into the small, run-down apartment where my mom and I had once lived, bringing Emma’s ashes with me. But when I went to the cemetery, they told me I’d have to wait three days.
Finally, on the day of Emma’s burial, I opened the door to leave, only to be kicked to the ground.
The urn slipped from my hands. I looked up, and there was Ethan, fury written all over his face. Behind him stood Ava, surrounded by bodyguards, wearing a white mask.
Before I could react, Ethan stepped over me, marching into the house.
“Emma!” he shouted, storming through the house, kicking open doors in his search. But there was no sign of her.
His patience ran out. He stormed back to me, grabbed me by the collar, and snarled, “Where is she? Make her come out!”
I tightened my grip on the urn, my voice cold. “You don’t deserve to say her name! Get out of here with your mistress.”
His anger flared. “Watch your mouth. I’ll teach you how to speak properly! You’re the one who incited Emma to do something terrible. I told her to apologize, but you stopped me. I’ve been too polite with you.”
I froze. My heart sank. “What did Emma do?” I demanded. “As long as I’m here, you won’t blame her for anything!”
I thought maybe, just maybe, he had come to help me bury Emma. But no.
Ava stepped forward, slowly removing her mask. Her face was covered in red rashes, and her eyes filled with tears as she looked at Ethan with a hurt expression.
“It’s okay,” she said softly. “Maybe Emma didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t mean to make me allergic.”
Ethan’s anger only grew. He turned to me, his words venomous. “Ava, stop defending that brat. Victoria made Emma ruin your face. Don’t keep enabling her! You’re just hurting her more!”
I couldn’t believe it. “Ethan, that’s your daughter! What’s wrong with you? What are you doing to her?”
Without warning, Ethan slapped me across the face, his hand burning against my skin.
“Watch your mouth!” he yelled. “Didn’t anyone teach you how to speak after your mom died? You incited Emma to pour alcohol into Ava’s skincare products! Don’t you know she’s allergic? How could you be so cruel? Now you want Emma to take the fall for you?”
I snapped, anger rising in my chest. “Emma’s five years old! How could she possibly know what alcohol is? It’s so strong, anyone can smell it! Ethan, have you lost your mind?”
But Ethan’s voice was louder than mine. “She was the only one in Ava’s room. There’s no one else. If it wasn’t Emma, then who?”
His eyes were wild with fury. “The surveillance footage is clear. Are you still making excuses? I’ll hand you over to the police!”
“Stop talking!” he barked. “Where is Emma? Where is she?!”
