Chapter 1

My wife buried my daughter alive.

All because her "first love’s" son stabbed my daughter with a knife, and I slapped him in anger.

To retaliate, my wife broke my daughter’s leg, threw her off the seventh floor, and then buried her alive in the backyard.

When I confronted her in despair, she screamed hysterically, “He’s just a child! How could you be so cruel? Do you even realize you knocked out one of his teeth with that slap?”

Later, after I found my daughter’s body, she cried and begged me not to divorce her.

But I could never love her again.

My daughter was killed by her own mother.

She took her last breath inside a dark, suffocating box, alone.

And I was miles away, on a business trip, completely unaware that the little girl I cherished more than anything in this world had already left me forever.

Late that night, after finally wrapping up work, I picked up my phone to call her.

But as soon as I unlocked my phone, I saw several missed calls from her. There were also multiple voice messages.

My heart immediately sank. A wave of fear surged through me.

I quickly called her back, but no one answered.

I told myself not to overthink it, to stay calm. But when I opened her voice messages, her trembling, tear-filled voice pierced through the silence:

“Daddy, why aren’t you back yet? Daddy, I don’t feel good. Please come save me.”

“Daddy, I can’t breathe... Daddy...”

“Daddy...”

Her voice grew weaker with each message, and my chest felt like it was being crushed.

I called my wife, Jessica, in a panic, but she kept rejecting my calls.

Frustrated, I opened her social media account and saw her post: she was having dinner with her "first love."

Unbelievable.

If Jessica hadn’t promised to take good care of my daughter, I would never have left her at home while I went on this business trip.

Little did I know, leaving her behind was the worst decision I had ever made.

The hour-and-a-half plane ride back felt like an eternity.

I prayed desperately for time to move faster, terrified that every passing second might take my daughter further away from me.

When I finally arrived home, I burst through the door, only to find Jessica tucking her "first love’s" son, Ethan, into bed.

She looked startled when she saw me, her expression guilty and uneasy.

“Why are you back so soon?” she asked, feigning nonchalance.

Her demeanor sent a wave of panic through me.

“Where’s my daughter? Where’s Lily?” I demanded.

Jessica swallowed hard, her voice rising defensively.

“She’s been asleep for hours. And honestly, Ethan is your stepson now, and I’m your wife. Why is that little brat the only person you ever care about?”

I glared at her, my eyes burning red, and her insolent tone faltered. She immediately stopped talking.

Frantically, I searched every room in the house, but Lily was nowhere to be found.

Her desperate cries for help echoed in my mind, fueling my growing desperation.

“Jessica, where is she? What did you do to her?” I shouted.

At that moment, Ethan rubbed his eyes and sat up in bed, yawning.

“Why are you making such a big deal about that brat?” he muttered. “Last time you slapped me, Jessica said she’d teach her a lesson to make me feel better. So this is all your fault.”

His childish tone carried an innocent cruelty that made my blood boil.

I turned to Jessica, disbelief and fury coursing through me.

“All this because I slapped him? You used my daughter to ‘make him feel better’?”

Jessica, realizing the truth was out, dropped her pretense. She crossed her arms and sneered.

“Well, you shouldn’t have hit Ethan. He’s just a kid, and now he’s missing a tooth because of you.”

“So yeah, I taught Lily a lesson. She’s my daughter; I can do whatever I want with her. And if you keep making a scene, you’ll never see that little brat again. I can’t believe she had the nerve to tattle on me to you.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

Jessica was Lily’s mother, yet she was defending someone else’s son while treating her own daughter like trash.

My vision turned red with rage. I grabbed Ethan by the collar and snatched a fruit knife from the coffee table, pressing it against his neck.

“Tell me where Lily is,” I growled, “or I’ll make sure he’s buried next to her.”

Jessica screamed in terror, begging me to put Ethan down. Finally, she broke under the pressure and pointed toward the backyard.

“She wouldn’t stop crying, so I locked her in a box. Now put Ethan down, or I swear to God—”

Her words blurred as I turned toward the window.

The backyard was quiet, illuminated by the soft glow of the porch light. But there was no box in sight.

Then my eyes landed on a freshly dug mound of dirt.

A chilling realization gripped me.

“You buried her alive in that box,” I said through clenched teeth.

Jessica opened her mouth, but I didn’t wait for her response.

There wasn’t time to waste. Saving Lily was all that mattered now.