A Family Portrait Turns Us Into Murderer

On Zivanka's birthday, Felix brought her home. We were still sitting in the living room when they could not bear the longing for each other and ran to the next room to talk to each other.

Zivanka was sitting on his lap and acting coquettishly.

Brianna wanted to deliver a cake to her aunt, but the door was not closed tightly and Brianna happened to see what happened inside.

When I found her, she asked me in confusion, "Mom, what are Dad and Auntie doing in the room? Are they playing games?"

I suppressed the excruciating pain in my heart and comforted her.

"Maybe, let's not disturb them and go upstairs with me."

Recalling our conversation back then, I wished I could slap myself twice.

It must be because of what I said that she thought Felix and Zivanka were playing games in the room and drew them in that family portrait.

But I did not expect Zivanka to see it at a glance. She thought I had asked my daughter to draw it on purpose to satirize her affair with Felix, so she tried to commit suicide.

Zivanka must have said something to Felix. Because as soon as the two of them came down from the rooftop, Felix insisted on sending Brianna to the Whittier Reform School.

I held my daughter's urn of ashes, tears streaming down my face, but I still knelt on the ground, insisting on making a request to Harrieth.

"I know you have never liked Zivanka and wanted me to stay in the Pritchards so that Felix would stop having such thoughts. But forcing something unwanted is not easy. The two of them were in love with each other and even killed Brianna for a drawing ...."

"I can't tolerate living with the murderer who killed my daughter for the rest of my life. Please allow us to leave!"

When Harrieth learned the whole story, she also shed tears.

She banged the crutch in her hand on the floor.

"What a sin! I shouldn't have adopted Zivanka in the first place, otherwise I wouldn't have harmed my precious granddaughter ...."

Harrieth almost fainted from anger and trembled as she instructed the butler.

"Call Felix right now! Tell him to put everything aside and come to Brianna's funeral first!"

The butler did call, but the call was rejected after several rings. I tried to persuade her. "Grandma, you don't need to call him, it's useless."

On the day when the news of Brianna's death came, I called him more than ten times, but all of them were rejected in a second.

I held my daughter's cold body in my arms, while Felix was busy lighting sky lanterns at the auction, just to buy the necklace Zivanka loved.

When I showed his post on social media to Harrieth, she was so angry that her face turned blue, but she held my hand and asked.

"Mirria, tell me, when did you discover their affair?"

I lowered my eyes and smiled bitterly.

Since when? Perhaps from the moment I was pregnant with Brianna, I realized something was wrong.

At first, I thought Zivanka was just his adopted sister.

Until he did not come home every few nights, he always smelled of women's perfume and even the collar of his white shirt had lipstick marks.

I thought he was cheating on me, so I checked his phone and his dashcam.

I saw him holding Zivanka intimately in the car.

She teased him while he was driving. "Felix, look at my dress, does it look good?"

"Sure, it looks nice on you."

She was displeased. "You didn't even look at it. Stop the car and take a closer look!"

Soon, the seat belt was unfastened.

An ambiguous voice heard.

Amidst the rustling, he murmured hoarsely but affectionately.

"Zivanka, I love you."

No one knew.