Chapter 3
Lily Winters let out a mocking laugh, gesturing toward the pitch–black sky and the swirling snow outside.
Simon chuckled too, not even bothering to lift his eyes. “Vivian, do you really think we’d fall for a lie like that?“–
“Oh? Or is it that you just can’t stand listening to us anymore?”
Simon locked the door again.
The harder I shouted, the louder the noise outside became.
With nowhere else to turn, I grabbed a nearby chair and smashed the window, scrambling through the shards.
Jagged glass ripped into my leg, blood streaming down instantly.
It was so late, and the snow was coming down so hard, there wasn’t a single cab in sight.
I could only stumble forward, half–alive, half–dead, running through the snow. Each step left a trail of stark red against the white.
A pair of headlights flashed–two quick honks–and a black SUV pulled up beside me.
“Get in,” a man’s voice called.
Inside the cramped, dim car, the man sat in the driver’s seat and never once looked back at me.
I kept thanking him, breathless, but he didn’t say a word after that.
Just as I was about to get out, I finally heard him speak:
“Vivian, you have other options besides Simon.”
“If you ever make up your mind, come find me.”
He handed me a gold–embossed business card. I accepted it with both hands, murmuring thanks, but my mind was too consumed with worry for my mother to even glance at the card before tucking it away.
I staggered into the ER, not even able to get my question out before I saw a nurse pushing a body covered in a white sheet out of the operating room.
“Still no sign of Sophie’s family?”
“She’s dead and her daughter hasn’t even shown up. Some family.”
Their words stabbed right through me.
I rushed over and pulled back the sheet. The face that had always been so refined was now covered in bruises, her whole body marked with wounds big and small.
1/3
15:01
For ten years, every minute I’d blamed her because of Simon.
I’d even had the cruel thought that maybe it’d be better if the whole family just died together–but now, with her lying dead before me, all I felt was heartbreak.
There were no other relatives left, no need for a funeral.
I sat beside my father’s hospital bed for a while, told him about Mom, about myself.
My words came out in fits and starts, carrying me through to dawn. Just before I left, I looked at my father–unmoving for a decade–and choked out, “Dad, I’m so tired.”
Early the next morning, my mother’s body was cremated. I carried the urn home, tucked inside a box.
I also brought home the divorce papers I’d had drawn up.
The moment I walked through the door, I found Simon and his little harem of gold–diggers laughing it up at the dining table.
“Sign these.”
My voice was icy as I tossed the divorce papers onto the table.
“So that’s why you ran out in the middle of the night? Just to get these papers?” Simon sneered. “You’ve really lost it, Vivian.”
Hugging the urn to my chest, I kept my head down. “Simon, let’s just let each other go,” I said quietly. “I don’t love you anymore.”
Once, I would have fought with Simon, shouted, maybe even gotten physical. I used to jab my finger in his face and demand to know if his so–called love for me had ever been real.
Even then, I still held onto a sliver of hope, wishing he’d forgive me, wishing we could make the marriage work.
So when he said he liked wild girls, I tried to please him in bed. When he liked innocence, I put on the outfits he preferred and played along.
But as woman after woman moved into our home, my heart grew numb.
The things I did to please him became my shame, the doorway for him to humiliate me.
“What’s this that fell out of your bag, sis…?”
Lily Winters bent down, picking up the card I’d dropped. She read aloud, “Leonard Harrison?”
So it was Leonard.
Simon’s lifelong rival–the one he’d never even met, living across the ocean.
A split second later, Simon’s face twisted into a snarl and he slapped me hard across the face.
“You say you don’t love me because you’ve found someone else, is that it? Do you have any idea who Leonard is?”
2/3
Chapter 3
My ears rang, the world spinning. I nearly collapsed, the urn slipping and shattering on the floor. Ash flew everywhere.
I just stood there, numb, unable to react.
Instinctively, I dropped to my knees, trying desperately to scoop the ashes back into the urn.
No matter how hard I tried, it was hopeless.
Lily Winters picked up a carton of milk and poured it onto the ashes. The others followed suit, dumping their drinks onto the floor until the ashes clumped together in sticky, ruined masses.
“Ah!” I screamed.
Something inside me snapped. Driven by pure agony, I grabbed a chair and hurled it at Lily Winters.
15:01
