I Gave You My Heart First — You Gave It Back in Pieces

“I have a video of you neglecting Lily. She’s crying because she misses her mommy—and I’m the one trying to comfort her. Want to see it?”

Cassandra pressed play. Lily’s sobbing voice echoed from the phone’s speaker:

“Mommy… I want Mommy…”

Since the screen was angled toward me, I could clearly see what the others could not: Cassandra slapping Lily across the face, over and over.

That was the real reason Lily was crying for me.

But her cries were so loud, they drowned out the sound of the slaps.

“Lily, be a good girl,” Cassandra cooed on screen. “Your mom is busy right now. Auntie made you some mango purée—it’s super sweet. Come on, eat it all up, okay?”

A moment later, Lily’s sobbing ceased—not because she had calmed down, but because her throat was swelling shut.

I clenched my fists so tightly that my nails dug into my palms.

Cassandra knew exactly what she was doing. She knew Lily was severely allergic to mangoes.

Cassandra smugly pocketed her phone. The surrounding crowd, unaware of what the video actually showed, exploded in judgment.

“I’ve never seen a mother so cold-blooded. Working nonstop while her child cries for attention—what kind of woman does that?”

“If this young girl hadn’t been there to console the kid, the poor thing would’ve choked to death on her own tears!”

“Some people are saying she locked her kid in the trunk and left her to die. Honestly, I believe it. She probably wanted to get rid of the girl so she could chase some business deal!”

“This babysitter’s being accused of killing the child, but clearly, the real abuser is the mother. She shouldn’t be allowed to raise a goldfish, let alone a child. Someone should teach her a lesson!”

Fueled by grief and outrage, they pounced.

Slaps rained down on my face. Someone spat at me. Rotten eggs were hurled, exploding against my clothes and skin.

Sharp nails raked across my cheeks and arms, carving deep, bleeding gashes into my flesh.

I staggered under the assault, my vision swimming in pain and humiliation.

Desperately, I looked at Ben. He shifted slightly, but didn’t move to help me.

Cassandra leaned into him, pouting, her voice soft and manipulative.

“Ben, you said you’d always protect me. Shaw’s insults don’t matter to me—but if you step in now, it’s like admitting I’m guilty. What if the school finds out? My whole future will be destroyed. Would you really break your promise for her?”

Finally, Ben turned to me, his tone icy and void of sympathy.

“Serena, you were the one who started all of this by falsely accusing Cassandra. If you refuse to apologize, then you have to accept the consequences.”

I don’t know how long the beating lasted. Eventually, the angry mob tired out and dispersed.

Shaking, bleeding, I dragged myself up from the floor.

Ben stepped toward me and extended his hand.

“Come. I’ll help you clean up.”

I slapped his hand away and hissed,

“Ben, I’m divorcing you. I’m quitting the company. From this moment on, we are nothing but strangers.”

Rage flickered in his eyes.

“You’re leaving me? Serena, is that supposed to be a threat? You’re the one at fault. I’m just trying to make sure Cassandra gets a fair chance!”

I didn’t even look at him.

I gently picked up my daughter’s lifeless body, wiped the smudges from her tiny face, and walked toward the crematorium.

Ben tried to follow, but I spun around and shouted,

“Get out!”

He paused mid-step. Whatever words he had died on his lips as he met my eyes.

I didn’t glance back. I simply walked away.

That night, I sat outside the crematorium alone, listening to the quiet hum of machinery, my tears falling silently.

“Lily… I’m sorry. Mommy didn’t protect you... Mommy failed you...”

The next morning, I arranged for Lily’s urn to be stored temporarily at the funeral home.

I could no longer trust Ben. I had to leave this place. I had to get my mother and Lily far, far away—somewhere no one could hurt us again.

When I stepped outside, Ben and Cassandra were gone.

Lying abandoned on the ground was my phone.

The screen was lit up, showing thirty-six missed calls, all from the nursing home.