Chapter 2

For an entire day, my wife’s phone was turned off.

She didn’t come to see our daughter. Instead, she sent a delivery driver to pick up the engagement ring that Emily had been clutching in her tiny hand as she died.

My wife said the ring was something she’d given her first love, David Lee, back in the day—a symbol of their youthful romance.

It was important to her, she claimed. Too important to be lost.

The hospital nurse looked at me with a mixture of pity and anger.

“How could such a young child be sent alone into an abandoned house to fetch something? That place hasn’t been lived in for years, and there was a recent death there. What kind of parent does that?”

“I heard she was already born with a weak heart. How could anyone think it was okay to send her to a place like that?”

“That poor little girl… I hope her next life is kinder, without parents like this.”

They were right. I hated myself more than anyone else ever could.

I’d always known my wife didn’t care about Emily’s health. So why had I let her take Emily that day?

I sat alone in the living room all night, my mind a storm of grief and regret.

By the time the sun rose, my wife finally came home.

“Sign this,” I said, pushing the divorce papers across the table.

She frowned, clearly annoyed. “What’s gotten into you now? Are you losing it?”

“Is this about me not answering your calls? You’re being ridiculous,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“David’s daughter is about to have surgery. As his friend, of course I had to be there for him. Don’t start acting like a child, Noah. I’m warning you—don’t push your luck.”

The faint smell of hospital disinfectant clung to her clothes, the same sterile scent that filled the air when Emily was taken into the emergency room.

But back then, my wife wasn’t by Emily’s side. She was off comforting someone else’s child.

I let out a bitter laugh, my face twisted with disgust.

“Comforting him all night? The surgery hasn’t even started, and you’re already playing the role of a grieving parent? What’s next—holding his hand when it fails?”

Before I could say more, my wife slapped me hard across the face.

“Noah, let me tell you something,” she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. “The only reason I’ve tolerated you all this time is because we had a daughter together. But if you keep running your mouth, I’ll throw you out of this house myself!”

Daughter? She dared to bring up our daughter?

The memory of Emily’s pale, pain-stricken face flashed in my mind, and my chest tightened with unbearable grief.

“Monica,” I said through clenched teeth, “how dare you even mention Emily? She was only five years old. How could you send her to that abandoned house alone? That place had been empty for years. Someone had just died there! Do you even know—”

“Oh, here we go again,” Monica interrupted, rubbing her temples as if I were giving her a headache.

“David is an adventure blogger, and the ring got lost there during one of his shoots. What was I supposed to do? Emily was perfectly capable of fetching it. It’s not like it killed her!”

Her words made my blood run cold.

“Besides,” she continued, “there weren’t any ghosts in that house. I sent her there to toughen her up. It was for her own good.”

“Look at David’s daughter. She’s so brave, facing surgery like it’s nothing. And now look at Emily. She couldn’t even handle a simple errand without whining to you about it.”

Monica’s tone grew sharper, each word cutting deeper than the last.

“And don’t blame me for liking Sophie more than Emily. Let’s be honest—Sophie’s cheerful and outgoing. She’s a joy to be around, unlike Emily, who was always so quiet and dull.”

“She was useless, Noah. She couldn’t even find a ring without making it into a big deal. If Sophie’s surgery fails because of that, I’ll make sure Emily apologizes for it—even if I have to drag her to the hospital to kneel outside Sophie’s room!”

Her words were knives, slicing me to pieces.

I had been a fool. I’d clung to the hope that Monica might feel even a shred of guilt after Emily’s death. But now I saw the truth: Emily’s life had meant nothing to her.

All she cared about was David. His feelings. His daughter’s surgery.

She didn’t deserve to know what had happened to Emily. If I told her, she wouldn’t mourn. She’d only accuse me and Emily of plotting to ruin her life.

“Enough of this,” Monica said, tossing a battered Barbie doll onto the couch.

“This is for Emily. Tell her to come out of her room and thank Sophie for the gift.”

I stared at the doll, my heart sinking.

Emily had always wanted an Elsa doll from Frozen. I’d lost count of how many times she’d begged for one, only for Monica to brush her off with excuses.

And now, Monica had brought home this broken, secondhand Barbie—its paint chipped, one arm missing.

It wasn’t even Elsa.

It was Sophie’s cast-off.

The irony was suffocating. Monica, an executive at a prestigious company, couldn’t even buy her own daughter a new toy. Instead, she expected Emily to play with Sophie’s rejects.

Ever since David came into our lives, Monica had hurt me in ways I thought I could no longer feel.

But when it came to Emily, I couldn’t stop the tears from welling up.

“Monica,” I said, my voice trembling with rage, “if you love Sophie so much, why don’t you go be her mother? We’re done. I want a divorce.”

Monica grabbed a pillow and threw it at me.

“Are you out of your mind, Noah?” she snapped.

“I’ve been supporting this family for years while you sat at home playing house. You’re lucky I haven’t thrown you out!”

“And now you want a divorce because I said a few things about Emily? Let me tell you something—Emily turned out the way she did because of you. You made her weak.”

She opened her mouth to say more, but her phone rang, cutting her off.

When she saw the caller ID, her expression softened immediately.

“Oh, Sophie, don’t worry, sweetheart. Auntie’s coming right now.”

Her voice was warm and tender, full of concern. But when she turned to me, her face hardened again.

“Fine. You want a divorce? Do whatever you want.”

She grabbed her coat and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

To her, I was just a lovesick fool. She probably thought I’d come crawling back as soon as she tossed me a few kind words.

Once, I might have. I’d stayed silent, endured everything, just to give Emily a complete family.

But my silence had cost my daughter her life.

I wanted to leave this house, this city, this grief behind. But then I thought—why should I go?

If anyone should leave, it was Monica and David Lee.

So, I changed the locks that same night.

If she wanted to be Sophie’s mother so badly, then she could stay with Sophie forever.

But she wouldn’t be coming back here. Not to this house. Not to me.