My Husband Played Dead for His First Love,Until He Lost Me Forever

"Where is she? I'm taking her to raise myself! Mildred and I will raise this child together! Anything is better than letting you ruin her entire life!"

"Fine!"

I brought out the urn. My eyes burned as I stared at them both.

"Then you'd better go down there and teach her well."

I looked at the portrait on the urn.

Clement stared at me in disbelief.

My clenched fists trembled.

A year ago, when Camille died, I'd spent every last cent I had to give her this final little home.

And in the next second, that little home was shattered.

I screamed and lunged forward.

"Camille!"

"Are you done with this act?"

Clement seized me by the hair.

"How many more times are you going to pull this stunt?"

He grabbed a fistful of the ashes. "Bamboo charcoal powder mixed with bone molds. Did you really think I couldn't tell? I already pulled this same trick three years ago!

"You enjoy cursing your own daughter that much?"

"Mmph!"

The ashes were forced into my mouth. I gagged violently.

"Eat it. You made these props yourself, didn't you? Why so squeamish now?"

Clement's eyes were bloodshot as he clamped his hand over my mouth.

He didn't let go until my face turned red.

I collapsed to my knees, coughing without stop.

My shaking hands gathered the ashes from the floor, piece by piece. Tears mixed with the blood in my throat, staining Camille's remains.

I lay facedown in the scattered ashes, sobbing so hard I couldn't breathe.

Clement looked down at me. "Think about it. When Camille grows up and finds out you faked her memorial portrait and forged her ashes just to compete with another woman for attention.

"How do you think she'll feel?

"She'll hate you for the rest of her life."

I was too wrecked to form a single word.

He crouched in front of me. "So. Where is she? If you have even an ounce of conscience as a mother, hand her over to me for now."

My eyes were raw and red.

I smiled at him. "Sure. I'll take you to her."

Mildred froze.

Clement hesitated for a beat, then reached out and took my hand. "I knew you'd come around."

The car stopped at the edge of a cliff.

Clement spotted the small figure standing on the precipice.

His face lit up. "Camille!"

He had barely stepped out of the car when Mildred's trembling voice came from behind him.

"Clement..."

He turned.

My knife was already pressed against Mildred's throat.

...

Police swarmed the clifftop within minutes.

I held Mildred by the neck, standing at the edge with Camille beside me.

Cold sweat rolled down Clement's temple.

"Mary, I won't take Camille. I'm not fighting you for her anymore.

"Let Mildred go. Do you want Camille's mother to become a murderer? Can you really make your daughter watch you kill someone?"

Every live-stream camera was trained on me.

The police negotiator stood beside Clement, talking me down in tandem.

I felt Mildred trembling in the crook of my arm.

I lowered my gaze.

Glanced at Camille in her little hat.

She looked up and met my eyes.

Mildred's shaking grew worse.

I curled my lips into a smile.

"No. Camille is going to be my greatest heir."

Ignoring the color draining from Clement's face, I gave the order.

"Camille! Help Mommy push this lady off!"

"Mary!!"

"Sir!"

The officers shouted in alarm.

Clement ripped the gun straight from a policeman's hands.

Aimed it right at me.

Bang.

The bullet tore through my chest in a bloom of red.

I swayed.

I let go of the hand clamped around Mildred's throat.

Before I fell, I turned back and smiled at Clement.

Then I dropped straight down.

Clement stood frozen where he was.

In front of the livestream cameras.

The little boy pulled off his cap.

It was a boy.

"Congratulations, mister. Now you've killed your wife with your own hands, too."

The police frowned at Clement.

"What is this child talking about?"