Cradling Ashes on Our Honeymoon

Genevieve stared at me in disbelief, then let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "You? Study abroad? Your dad's a drunk and your mom's insane. Where would you get the money? In your dreams?"

"This isn't a dream," I said calmly. "Your life with Julian is about to begin, and my twelve years in your shadow are over. I don't need the Prescott family's money. And you have no right to question my future."

For the first time, a flicker of panic broke through Genevieve's icy composure. She pointed a finger at my mom, her voice sharp and vicious. "Even if you manage to work your way through college abroad, what about your mother? Who's going to take care of her? Are you just going to dump her in some institution to rot? As far as I know, your father won't lift a finger."

"That's none of your business," I answered coldly.

She stepped up to me, her slender fingers gripping my chin. Her beautiful eyes were sharp and cold, like a viper ready to strike. "Do you really think you can just leave Sterling Bay whenever you want? Do you think you can escape my grasp?"

"In a few days, Julian and I are throwing a party to celebrate the start of our college lives. You will be there."

Before I could respond, my mother screamed again.

She had gathered all the pieces of the music box from the floor and thrust the bundle into my arms. "Nolan, my good boy, your sister is hurt. Please save her, I'm begging you!"

My throat burned, and tears blurred my vision. I took the pieces from her trembling hands. "Mom, Lily is sick. I'll take her to a doctor."

Then I turned to Genevieve, glaring at her with all the fury I had left. "I've already called a nurse. This room has cameras. Don't you dare touch my mother again."

I had never raised my voice to her before. This time, she looked startled. She bit her lip, a flicker of something unreadable, like hurt, crossing her face before she looked away.

I borrowed glue and tools from the nurse and sat in the hallway, clumsily piecing the music box back together.

When I finally carried it toward my mother's room and pushed open the door, my heart seized.

Genevieve and Julian were on the companion bed, a tangled mess of skin and limbs, their breaths mingling as they crossed every line imaginable.

And my mother was perched on the third-floor balcony railing, her body teetering, ready to fall at any moment.

The two of them, lost in their pleasure, hadn't even noticed the woman on the brink of death behind them.

I wanted to run and pull her back, but I was terrified a sudden movement would startle her into jumping. I froze at the door, barely daring to breathe.

Then, just as Genevieve and Julian climaxed, their intertwined moans filled the room, and the sound was just enough to shatter the last, fragile thread of my mother's sanity.

In truth, her madness hadn't started when Lily died. It had started long before, when my father had his affair.

I was just a child, not yet in elementary school, when he brought another woman into our home. He flaunted his affair right in front of my mother, just as Julian and Genevieve were doing now.

My mother's eyes turned bloodshot. She screamed, "Frank! I hate you!"

Then she jumped.

It all happened so fast I didn't even have time to scream. It felt as if my heart had been ripped straight from my chest.

My hands shaking violently, I dialed 911 and called for the hospital staff until my voice was hoarse.

Genevieve and Julian froze, pale and trembling, scrambling to cover themselves as nurses and orderlies rushed in and out.

I ran downstairs and saw my mom was still breathing. I knelt beside her, sobbing. "Mom, please! Hold on! Don't go! I can't lose you!"

The ambulance arrived. They put her on a stretcher and took her away. I collapsed onto the cold pavement, gasping for air.

Then I saw a pair of designer heels stop in front of me—Genevieve's.

"A three-story fall won't kill her," she said, her voice dripping with contempt. "Stop the theatrics. I saw her breathing."

Something inside me snapped. I looked up at her, my voice a raw roar. "Get out! I never want to see you again!"

For a moment, her face twisted in anger, but she quickly masked it with her usual, cruel composure. She took Julian's arm, glanced back at me, and said coldly, "You'll pay for this, Nolan. One day, you'll come crawling to me, begging for my forgiveness."