After my husband brought back a pregnant woman, I left.

Wind swept through the cemetery.

Pale white ashes were lifted into the air, scattering into countless shards of light beneath the sun.

I used every ounce of strength I had to break free from the bodyguards’ grip and threw myself toward the drifting white.

“No… don’t… please don’t…”

I reached out, trying to gather them in my hands, but the ashes slipped through my fingers like wind, like dreams.

They escaped my palms the same way my daughter slipped from my arms and disappeared from this world.

The last trace of my child

vanished into the breeze.

I collapsed into the mud, my trembling hands scraping desperately at the faint remnants left behind.

Soil mixed with ashes.

Ashes mixed with broken daisy stems.

And all of it mixed with the shattered pieces of my life.

“Come… back…”

My voice barely formed sound, my chest splitting open as though a dull saw were slowly cutting it apart.

Tears dripped from my chin—onto the mud, onto the petals, onto the bone dust.

No one reached out.

No one stopped anything.

Everyone simply watched, detached and silent.

Then Tara stepped forward from the crowd.

The clicking of her heels on stone was crisp and jarringly loud.

She lifted her foot—slowly, gracefully—and brought it down with deliberate force onto the ashes I was trying to shield.

Crunch.

That sound was the sound of my entire heart being crushed.

She looked down at me, expression elegant, her voice cold as shards of ice.

“Wren, what exactly are you grabbing at?”

She feigned confusion before letting out a mocking laugh.

“Isn’t this just a pile of nameless ashes? Don’t tell me you’re trying to stop Danny’s burial with this pathetic act. Do you really think anyone will believe such a pitiful little performance?”

In that moment, I couldn’t even cry.

“Get away!”

I screamed, shoving her hard.

Tara stumbled, losing her balance, falling onto the cemetery path.

The second she hit the ground, Erick came rushing toward us, fury burning in his eyes.

There was no shock.

No pity.

Only concern for Tara—and pure disgust for me.

Without a word, he raised his hand.

Smack!

The slap cracked across my face, echoing violently through the empty graveyard.

It was the first time he had ever hit me.

My head snapped to the side, but strangely, I felt no pain.

Because compared to the agony in my heart, any pain on my skin was nothing but a whisper.

The wind blew across the cemetery.

Daisies lay crushed in the mud.

Ashes danced in the air.

And I stood in the center—like a shadow abandoned by the entire world.

Erick gritted his teeth and roared,

“How dare you lay a hand on her?!”

I slowly lifted my head.

There was no sorrow left in my eyes—only a hollow, absolute deadness.

“Erick…”

My voice was hoarse.

“You don’t deserve to be her father.”

Blinded by rage, Erick jabbed his finger toward me and shouted,

“You left the child alone at home and came here to scream at Tara? You narrow-minded, selfish woman—how do you even dare call yourself a mother?”

Every word he spoke stabbed into my chest like a knife.

“You love clutching that pile of random ashes so much, don’t you?”

Erick sneered, his gaze dripping with contempt.

“Then stay here and cry all you want. From now on, you won’t be allowed near our daughter ever again. She stays with me. I won’t let her be raised by a twisted mother like you.”

Finished, he pulled out his phone, his tone icy as steel.

“Tina, right now—bring my daughter to my private villa. And unless I say otherwise, Wren is never to see her again.”

There was silence on the other end.

A long, trembling silence.

Then Tina’s unsteady voice came through, shaking:

“Mr. Erick… your daughter died in the car accident on the day you were supposed to pick her up.”

“And I also discovered… the daisy-covered grave… is where her ashes were buried.”