Ethan wasted no time. He tapped his phone, then tossed it on the floor in front of me. On the screen, I saw a small figure wearing Emma’s dress from that day, her hat low over her face. She stumbled into the bedroom, stood by the dresser, and pulled a bottle from her bag, pouring something into the skincare bottle.
The video cut off there.
The timestamp was from two days ago, long after Emma had been cremated.
I let out a bitter laugh, tears streaming down my cheeks.
Ava seized the opportunity, her voice sweet but malicious. “Victoria, I just need to understand why Emma did this to me. Nothing else. It’s not too late to teach her right from wrong, you know.”
I couldn’t take her self-righteousness anymore. I stood up and spit directly in her face, her rash-covered skin now a target of my fury. “Stop slandering Emma! She doesn’t need your fake sympathy! You don’t even know who’s in that footage, and here you are trying to pin this on us. Do you want Mrs. Anderson’s spot that badly?”
Ethan’s face twisted with rage, and in an instant, his anger exploded. He kicked me in the stomach. The force knocked the wind out of me, and the urn I was holding slipped from my hands, crashing to the floor. The lid popped off, and the ashes scattered across the concrete, a blinding white mess.
The pain in my stomach was nothing compared to the pain in my chest. My daughter’s ashes… scattered. Gone. I couldn’t even think straight as I screamed, the sound echoing off the walls.
Ignoring the pain in my body, I collapsed onto the floor, crawling toward the ashes, reaching for them. My mouth opened, but no words came. I couldn’t even speak.
Ethan’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and cold. “Where is Emma? Tell me now. Last chance.”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. My whole body felt like it was shutting down. Ethan growled, his voice even darker. “Fine. If you won’t talk…”
He turned to one of his men, grabbing a bottle of alcohol. He poured it over the ashes, mixing them into a paste, before scooping it up in his hands. He smeared it across my face.
The cold sting made me shiver, but Ethan wasn’t done. He rubbed the mixture harder into my skin, his face twisted with satisfaction. “Today, I’m giving you a ‘treatment.’ How’s that? Still not talking?”
The alcohol burned, mixing with the pain on my face, but I barely felt it over the shock. My skin screamed as I cried out in pain.
Ethan leaned down, his voice dripping with venom. “Want a divorce? Fine. I’ll grant it. But you’ll never see Emma again.”
He wiped his hands off on one of the bodyguards’ shirts, then pulled out his phone, dialing quickly.
“Call the police. Find out where Victoria’s hiding Emma. And have the lawyer prepare a divorce agreement. I want full custody of Emma.”
The voice on the other end faltered before answering, timid and cautious. “Mr. Anderson… Emma is already dead. She was cremated the night you and Mrs. Hayes were out. The cause of death was a motorcycle accident. Since we couldn’t reach you, I arranged a burial plot for her on Mrs. Anderson’s behalf. Today’s her burial day.”
