My Husband and Daughter Betrayed Me, So l Faked My Death

It was already dark when Naya returned home. As soon as she stepped inside, Cesar came over with Abigail.

“Naya, where have you been? Why are you back so late?” he asked, sounding concerned.

Cesar took the backpack from her hand and gave her a once-over, noticing something off about her expression. Her eyes were red.

“Why are you crying? Who dared to bully Mrs. Harmon? I’ll make them pay!” he said playfully, coaxing her with sweet words as he reached for a tissue and gently wiped her eyes.

Watching Cesar fuss over her so thoughtfully, Naya’s memories came rushing back.

After they got married, when her business venture failed and she locked herself in the bathroom to cry, he had comforted her with the same tender voice.

He told her she could rest easy being his wife because he would protect her forever.

Later, when she became pregnant and her career still couldn’t take off, he insisted she quit and stay home full time, caring for him and Abigail.

Both of them were allergic to dust mites, so she bought a top-of-the-line mite remover and cleaned the house down to every corner, fearing they might suffer otherwise.

Abigail was a picky eater with multiple food allergies. Naya studied cooking obsessively, perfecting recipes over and over again until every dish was both beautiful and safe.

Back then, she had been so sure she was living a blissful marriage.

People teased her for looking more like a servant than a wealthy wife, but she didn’t mind. She truly believed she was the happiest woman in the world.

But now, looking at Abigail’s face—so much like her biological mother’s—Naya realized all those years had been a lie she told herself.

The thought brought a fresh wave of pain to her chest, and her eyes began to sting again.

Still, she forced it down, managing a small smile. “Of course not. I just went to the beach. The sandstorm was strong, it got in my eyes,” she said lightly.

As she spoke, her gaze drifted toward Abigail, who was half-hidden in the corner. Maybe she’d overheard what happened after school, her eyes looked uneasy, evasive.

But more than anything, they were full of jealousy.

Naya’s heart twisted. Abigail wasn’t her biological daughter, and her very existence had once been a source of shame.

Yet after raising her for so many years, Naya couldn’t deny the complicated feelings that had taken root.

She instinctively leaned forward, wanting to embrace her. But pain shot through her arm. Abigail had stabbed her with the small pocketknife she had been hiding.

Bright red blood welled up instantly, dripping onto the carpet.

A flicker of satisfaction crossed Abigail’s face. “It’s all your fault! Daddy said he’d take me with him today to see Zora, but you ruined everything!”

“You wicked stepmother! Why don’t you just die!” she shouted, eyes burning with hatred.

Naya stared at the wound on her palm, her heart cracking open.

She still remembered when Abigail was just two years old, barely able to speak. Back then, she had picked up the word “die” from somewhere.

She’d wrapped her tiny arms around Naya’s neck and asked, in a baby-soft voice, what it meant.

And when she learned that one day her mother would grow old and die, she had broken down in tears.

She cried until she was hoarse, nearly on the verge of respiratory alkalosis.

But even then, she clung to Naya tightly, repeating through her sobs, “I don’t want Mommy to die… I don’t want Mommy to die…”

And now, just days after Zora’s return, Abigail had completely turned against her.

As grief swelled in Naya’s chest, Abigail suddenly collapsed to the floor, pointing at her and crying out, “Dad, Mom pushed me! My back hurts, take me to the hospital…”

Startled, Naya turned and saw Cesar approaching, unnoticed until now. The moment Abigail spotted him, she threw herself into his arms, sobbing hysterically.

There was blood on her cheek, Naya’s blood, whether by accident or design, it was hard to tell.

But against Abigail’s pale face, it looked especially terrifying.

Cesar’s face paled. “Abigail, why are you bleeding? Are you hurt?”

“Dad… my head hurts so bad. Mom said she was wronged because of me…” Abigail sniffled, her eyes closed, her nose red from crying. “I’m scared… Will Mom hit me again?”

Cesar’s expression darkened instantly.