Across the Sea, A New Beginning

Leonard’s face darkened like a gathering storm, his tone laced with finality. “Impossible. The house title has been mortgaged to the bank.”

I raised an eyebrow, letting his words settle in the air before nodding silently.

“Alright,” I replied coolly, “as long as you don’t regret it.”

“I’ll tell you my request after the ancestor honoring ceremony,” he declared, his voice clipped as he turned and strode toward the children’s bedroom.

Before disappearing behind the door, he added with a scornful smirk, “I don’t regret it. But you should. If you don’t give me a son, maybe it’s time to change the children’s mother.”

I didn’t flinch, but inside, something snapped. As soon as he left, I picked up my phone and confirmed my intentions with the lawyer I had contacted.

You don’t need to replace me, Leonard. This time, I’ll replace you.

That afternoon, I dressed up with my daughters and brought them to the Hill Family’s imposing mausoleum. The ancient structure loomed against the sky, every brick radiating centuries of tradition and pride.

Beth was already there, resplendent in an exquisite dress, her laughter ringing out as she stood beside Sir Hill, the Hill Family patriarch. Her aura was effortlessly charming as she chatted and laughed.

The moment she spotted Leonard, her eyes lit up like a child’s at Christmas. She hurried to him, her voice bubbly with excitement.

“Leonard, you’re finally here! You said you’d bring me to witness your ancestor honoring ceremony. And then you went back to pick up your wife? That’s so sweet of you!”

Leonard, ever the performer, held our daughters’ hands as if it were the most natural thing in the world, a picture-perfect father. His smile was disarming, his words deliberate.

“What can I say? Carrie probably stayed up late watching her dramas and lost track of time. If I hadn’t picked her up, you would have been disappointed today.”

He spoke loudly, his voice carrying over the gathered crowd. Eyes turned toward me, judgmental and disdainful.

My fingers curled into fists.

I wanted to expose his lies, to strip away the veneer of his affection, but then I saw Grace’s eager face. She had been thrilled when she learned she could finally step into the Hill Family’s mausoleum, something she’d been denied for so long.

This moment wasn’t about me or my anger—it was about her.

Beth’s light laugh broke the tense silence. “Oh, Mrs. Hill, you’re so lucky! Leonard spoils you so much. I hope I can be as lucky as you someday.”

I forced a smile. “I’m sure you will.”

Just not with Leonard.

The ancestor honoring ceremony began with solemnity at noon. The Hill Family, adorned in shades of black, lined up to enter the ancient mausoleum nestled in the mountains.

As we joined the queue, I watched Leonard walked ahead with Beth. He held an umbrella over her, shielding her delicate features from the sun as he explained the ceremony rites with the patience of a doting partner.

His smile gleamed in the sunlight and for a fleeting moment, Beth’s eyes reddened, as though touched by his charm.

Beside me, Grace tugged on my sleeve, her voice timid. “Mom, can we really go inside the mausoleum?”

I crouched down to her level and pointed to the mother-daughter pair ahead of us. “Look, Grace. See them? They’re mothers with daughters too and they’re going in. So yes, we can too.”

But the truth was far uglier.

Years ago, Leonard had forbidden me from bringing our daughters into the mausoleum.

I had begged, argued and cried. My voice raw with desperation. “Other families allow daughters into the temple. Why can’t ours?”

He had dismissed me with a cold finality. “Because I don’t want to. You’ll embarrass me.”

To him, daughters—our daughters—were a stain on his ambitions.

Beth’s sweet, innocent voice jolted me back to the present. “Mrs. Hill, would you like me to hold Grace for you? I don’t have a child of my own, so I’d feel less awkward going in.”

My chest tightened. I stepped protectively in front of Grace, my voice firm. “No need. I’m her mother. I’ll hold her.”

Beth’s smile faltered and she cast a helpless glance at Leonard.

Ignoring my warning glare, Leonard swept up Sofia, our youngest and carried her toward Beth.

“Sofia, come with Daddy,” he said gently.

Sofia’s wide, innocent eyes met mine as she clung to him, unsure of what was happening. My heart twisted painfully.

This was the first time Leonard had held Sofia, the first time she’d felt the embrace of her father. A moment that should have been filled with joy felt like betrayal.

The mausoleum loomed ahead, its narrow and dim corridors exuding an oppressive weight. The pathway into its depths allowed only one person at a time, amplifying the silence and the significance of each step.

As I stood at the threshold with Grace, I steeled myself for what lay ahead.

For her, I would face it all.