When Love Is Gone, The Past Stays

“Mr. Johnson, is Jason in class? Please put him on the phone—I need to speak with him!”

Mr. Johnson froze for a moment.

“Mr. Brooks, Jason didn’t come today. I even tried calling Mrs. Carter, but no one answered. Was he picked up by someone else…?”

Before the sentence was finished, Daniel Brooks gave a cold snort and slammed the phone down.

“You even bribed the teacher? How long are you planning to lie to me?”

“It’s Monday. Why didn’t you take him to school? What exactly are you trying to do? You think I won’t get angry, is that it? Don’t let me find him, or I swear I’ll beat him!”

Now he thought of his son?

But he had no idea—he would never see Jason again.

The image of my child dying with his eyes wide open haunted me. My chest tightened painfully as I broke down in sobs.

“Jason is dead… you killed him with your own hands!”

“Stop spouting nonsense!”

Daniel’s face darkened to purple, fury blazing in his eyes.

“You think exposing your tricks means you can claim Jason’s dead? Emma Carter, do you even think before you lie? What kind of cruel mother says things like this?”

Tears streamed down my face. I no longer had the strength for pointless arguments.

I tore my hand away and tried to leave.

But Daniel blocked my path, yanking me back by my hair.

“Whatever happens, you’re going to apologize to Chloe Miller first!”

Chloe stood pitifully at the doorway, clutching her collar and feigning concern.

“Daniel, let it go. I think Emma just lost her head for a moment. I can endure something this small.”

Hearing her words only deepened the tenderness in his gaze.

“Chloe, you don’t have to be so understanding…”

Then, without hesitation, he dragged me by my hair toward the hall.

“I told you already—my patience has limits. Keep this up, and I’ll divorce you. Don’t expect to remain Mrs. Brooks much longer!”

I struggled violently, my arms and legs scraped raw with red welts.

“Do whatever you want—I don’t care anymore!”

“Emma, don’t push me too far!”

He hauled me to the top of the stairs and pulled out Jason’s beloved Spider-Man action figure. His eyes glinted with menace, jaw clenched tight.

“This is your last chance—bring Jason out, or deal with the consequences!”

Before I could respond, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Daniel snatched it up, confident it would be Jason calling.

But when he heard the voice on the other end, his face turned to stone.

“Emma, are you still not back yet? The hospital says the morgue is full. They need to cremate Jason quickly.”

“Cremate…?”

Daniel’s face went black. A second later, he gave a sharp, mocking laugh into the phone, though his eyes burned with rage.

“Still acting? Now your friend’s even making up excuses like cremation?”

Grace Johnson’s furious voice shot through the line:

“Daniel Brooks, are you even a man? Your son is dead, and you dare say we’re making excuses? You’ll regret this!”

She kept cursing, her voice hoarse from anger, defending me and grieving for Jason.

But nothing mattered anymore.

Whatever fragile feelings I still had for Daniel—

in the moment Jason died with his eyes open in despair—

were completely extinguished.

Daniel’s response was to hurl the phone at my face, his voice thunderous:

“Enough! I won’t watch this farce any longer. I’ll call the police right now and have them punish you both!”

I let out a bitter laugh. So this was what it meant for the real criminal to cry thief.