For three months, I had been away on a business trip, counting down the days until I could finally return home. I had missed my family dearly, especially my little girl. When I finally secured a ticket home for the New Year, excitement bubbled in my chest and I could barely wait to see their surprised faces.

On the video call, my husband, Simon, sighed regretfully. "Elsa, why couldn't you get a ticket? My parents and our daughter have all been waiting for you to come home!"

His words stung more than they should have. I could see the disappointment in his eyes, but beneath it, something felt off—too casual, too rehearsed. Ignoring the pang in my heart, I played my part, feigning frustration. "I know, Simon. I tried, but the trains were packed. I'll make it up to you all."

As soon as the call ended, I wiped away a tear, but it wasn't one of sadness. It was anticipation. They didn't know I had secured a ticket and would be home tonight. The thought of their astonished, joyful reactions made me laugh out loud. Little did I know that in just a few hours, I'd be flipping over the whole dinner table in anger.

***

After hanging up the phone, I quickly changed my expression, replacing the weariness with excitement. Grabbing the carefully wrapped gifts I had prepared for my family, I headed toward home with hurried steps. The cold wind nipped at my face, but it did nothing to dampen my spirits. I imagined the scene over and over—my husband and daughter rushing toward me, arms outstretched, their faces lighting up in delight.

As I approached our house, the familiar warmth of home seemed so close I could almost touch it. Pulling out my key, I paused for a second, savoring the moment. I could already hear lively chatter and laughter filtering through the door.

But in the next second, my world tilted.

Through the slightly ajar door, I saw Simon sitting on the sofa, his arm draped casually but intimately around a woman with heavily painted features. She leaned into him, giggling softly as his hand slid up her waist in a manner far too familiar.

My hands tightened on the gifts until the paper crinkled loudly. Blood rushed to my ears and my breath caught in my throat. The warmth I had imagined was replaced by a cold, hollow ache.

For a moment, I just stood there, dumbfounded, unable to process what I was seeing. Then fury ignited inside me like a wildfire. I pushed the door open, my voice trembling with rage. "Simon, what are you doing behind my back?"

Simon jolted upright, startled by my sudden appearance. His arm fell away from the woman, who scrambled to her feet, her face painted with guilt. "Elsa, y-you said you weren't coming home for the New Year!"

I stared at him, my heart pounding painfully in my chest. "And that makes this okay?"

The woman quickly tried to explain, her voice high-pitched and shaky. "Elsa, don't misunderstand! I consider Simon my brother. It's not what you think."

"Simon! You're cheating on me?!" I couldn't contain my anger anymore. I hurled the gifts in my hands toward them, the packages landing with dull thuds on the floor.

Simon stepped forward, shielding the woman behind him as if she were something precious. "Honey, calm down. She's my childhood friend. You've scared her."

Before I could respond, Evelyn, my mother-in-law, appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on an apron. Her sharp eyes took in the scene and her face twisted in displeasure. "Elsa, are you trying to tear the roof off as soon as you get back?! This is Raya, Simon's friend since he was a boy. What the hell do you think? Apologize to them, now!"

I stared at her, incredulous. Apologize? Apologize for what—walking in on my husband caressing another woman?

Raya cowered behind Simon, her eyes glistening with crocodile tears. "Elsa, I just came over to spend the New Year with everyone. You wouldn't mind, right?"

The way Simon's hand still rested protectively on her waist sent a fresh wave of fury coursing through me. My lips curled into a bitter sneer. "Spend the New Year? Don't you have your own family? Or is your own family so... inadequate that you have to crash ours?"

At my words, Raya's face turned pale and tears spilled down her cheeks. She played her role perfectly—an innocent victim caught in my supposed irrational outburst.

Simon's face darkened and he stormed toward me. Without warning, he shoved me backward. "Elsa, you've gone too far! She's nothing like that. Stop stirring up trouble!"

I stumbled, barely catching myself on the wall. My pulse roared in my ears and a sense of betrayal clawed at my chest.

Evelyn took the opportunity to chime in, her voice dripping with disdain. "How dare you ruin everyone's mood the moment you arrive?! You accuse my son of cheating? Who knows what you've been up to these past three months during your so-called business trip? Maybe you've been sleeping with your clients! You're no saint, yet you dare slander my son?"

"You—!" My voice caught in my throat, rage choking me. But then something else caught my eye—golden fur clinging to Evelyn's apron.

My head buzzed and dread settled in my gut like lead. I pushed past them, ignoring their protests as I made a beeline for the kitchen. The sight that greeted me made my vision blur with horror.

There, on the cutting board, lay traces of fresh blood. The trash bin beside it was stuffed with golden dog fur. My stomach churned violently and a sickening realization dawned on me.

"Did you cook my dog?!" I roared, my voice breaking with anguish.

Evelyn crossed her arms, unimpressed by my outburst. "It's just an animal. So what if we cooked it? Why are you making such a big fuss?"

My mind reeled, a tidal wave of grief and fury threatening to drown me. Arlo wasn't just a pet—he was the last connection I had to my late mother. He had been her companion before she passed away and I had cherished him for the memories he carried. And now... he was gone.

Tears blurred my vision and I clenched my fists until my nails dug painfully into my palms. "How could you..." My voice trembled, thick with grief. "He was all I had left of my mom."

Evelyn's expression didn't change, her eyes cold and dismissive. "Enough with the dramatics, Elsa. It's just a dog."

Simon attempted to ease the tension, though his tone was more defensive than apologetic. "Raya loves dog meat. Since it's the holiday, we couldn't find any. We can't neglect our guests, can we?"

His words were like a slap in the face. I felt my blood boil, my vision blurring with a red haze. Without thinking, I grabbed him by the collar, pulling him close until our faces were mere inches apart. My voice shook with rage and grief. "Simon! I've had Arlo for seven years—longer than we've been dating and married! He was like my child and you cooked him?!"

The word "child slipped out and as soon as it did, an electric jolt shot through my mind. My heart, already pounding with anger, now raced with an entirely different emotion—fear. A sudden, chilling thought struck me. Whenever I came home, no matter what Eloise was doing, she would always rush out to greet me, arms open wide, her sweet voice calling, "Mommy!" But this time, from the moment I stepped inside, I hadn't seen or heard her at all.

Panic gripped me. I tightened my hold on Simon's arm, my nails digging into his skin. "Where's Eloise? Where did she go?!"

Simon averted his eyes, his face pale and tense. "Eloise... Eloise went out to play. She's not home." His voice wavered, lacking the confidence of a convincing lie.

Just as he finished speaking, a high-pitched scream echoed from the back of the house, cutting through the air. My heart dropped. The voice came from Eloise's room. Without a second's hesitation, I shoved Simon aside, ignoring his protests and sprinted toward the source of the sound.

Bursting into my daughter's room, I was met with a chaotic scene. A little boy was standing on Eloise's bed, scattering my makeup across the sheets, screaming and flailing his arms in a wild tantrum. The neatly arranged room now looked like a disaster zone.

"Get out! Get out! This isn't your house!" I shouted, scanning the room frantically, hoping to see Eloise hiding somewhere. But she wasn't there.

The boy, unfazed by my shouting, swung a small fist at me. His punch landed weakly against my arm, but the audacity of it snapped something inside me. I seized him by his collar, lifting him off the bed as he kicked and wailed in protest. My voice was harsh and trembling. "Where is Eloise?! Tell me where she is!"

The boy, wide-eyed with terror, burst into loud sobs and flung a lipstick at me in a weak attempt to escape.

"Why are you crying?! I'm asking you—where's my daughter?!" My grip tightened, fear and anger twisting together in my chest.

Before I could demand more, Raya stormed into the room, her face contorted with outrage as she grabbed the boy and shielded him behind her. "Elsa! Have you lost your mind?! Why are you yelling at Tyler, my son?"

Her son. Those two words echoed in my head, cold and bitter. My gaze flicked between the frightened boy and Raya and then I turned to Simon, who had rushed in after her. My voice was icy, cutting through the air like a blade. "Just a friend, you said? Yet you have a child with her, haven't you?"

The boy looked to be about the same age as Eloise—five, maybe six. The realization hit me like a blow to the stomach. While I was pregnant with our daughter, Simon had already been cheating on me, fathering another child.

Simon stammered, his face drained of color. "Elsa, I-I was young and reckless, okay? Men can't control themselves sometimes. You can't blame me!"

The pathetic excuse only fueled my fury. Without thinking, I slapped him hard across the face. The sharp sound echoed in the room as he stumbled back, clutching his cheek in shock. My voice, now low and deadly, trembled with restrained rage. "I don't want to hear your excuses. I just want to know—where is my daughter?!"

Still dazed from the slap, Simon stuttered, "She's... she's at the hospital."

The words sank in slowly, each one dragging me deeper into a pit of dread. My mind raced with horrible possibilities. Without wasting another second, I grabbed my coat and turned toward the door.

Behind me, Evelyn's shrill voice rang out, berating me. "How dare you hit my son?! Have you lost all sense of decency?"

At the same time, Raya stepped forward, blocking my path. Her expression was a mix of anger and fear. "You just want to leave after making Tyler cry?!"

Simon joined them, desperation lacing his voice as he tried to block the doorway. "Elsa, wait! Our daughter is just not feeling well. It's nothing serious. You don't need to go see her."

I stared at the three of them, standing shoulder to shoulder as if forming a barricade against me. My hands clenched into fists, my nails digging painfully into my palms. Fury burned in my chest, but beneath it was a gnawing fear—fear for Eloise, fear of what they might have done. My voice was cold, filled with steely resolve. "Get out of my way. Otherwise, I swear I'll send every one of you to the hospital myself."

Without waiting for a response, I shoved past them with all the force I could muster, ignoring their protests and curses as I stormed out of the house and into the cold night air.

***

The hospital was eerily quiet, the sterile scent of disinfectant thick in the air. It was New Year's Eve, yet the usual festive atmosphere was absent here. Every step I took down the dimly lit corridor felt heavier than the last, my heart pounding in my chest.

Finally, I reached the door to Eloise's ward. I pushed it open slowly and my breath caught in my throat at the sight before me.

Eloise lay on the hospital bed, her small frame dwarfed by the white sheets. Her leg was encased in a bulky cast and her face was pale and tear-streaked. The moment she saw me, her eyes filled with fresh tears and she began to sob quietly.

"Mommy... Daddy doesn't want me anymore... He even let Tyler bully me..." Her voice was soft, trembling with fear and sadness.

I rushed to her side, wrapping my arms around her trembling body. My throat tightened with emotion as I gently stroked her back. "Don't be afraid, baby. Mommy's here now. Mommy's here..."

She clung to me desperately, her tiny hands clutching my coat as if afraid I would disappear. I held her tightly, trying to steady my own breathing as tears threatened to spill. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I whispered gently, "Tell Mommy, who did this to you?"

Tears welled up in Eloise's eyes, her frail body trembling with each word. "It... it was Tyler," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "He was chasing Arlo around with scissors. I tried to stop him, Mommy... but he got mad and pushed me down the stairs." Her little hands clutched the blanket tightly as though clinging to the last shred of comfort she had left.

My heart clenched painfully. My fingers balled into fists at my sides as I fought the rising tide of rage threatening to consume me. How could anyone—especially Simon—stand by and allow this to happen?

Eloise sniffled, her voice quivering as she continued, "Daddy said it was my fault... He left me here to reflect. He didn't bring me anything to eat..." Her voice broke and fresh tears rolled down her pale cheeks. "Mommy, I'm so hungry..."

I instinctively glanced at the small table by her bed. A plate with two hardened slices of bread sat there, untouched and cold. It was the only food my daughter had received all day. On New Year's Eve.

A lump formed in my throat and I felt as though I couldn't breathe. I reached out, brushing her hair tenderly. "Stay right here, darling. Mommy's going to get you something to eat."

I hurried out of the hospital into the cold, biting wind of the night. Most of the shops were closed for the holiday, their windows darkened and doors locked. Desperation gnawed at me as I searched street after street. Finally, I found a small food stall still open, its owner about to close up. I bought the last bowl of steaming beef noodles he had left.

Rushing back, I entered Eloise's room to find her sitting up, her wide eyes lighting up at the sight of the food. She devoured the noodles hungrily, each bite a reminder of how long she had been neglected.

I sat beside her silently, watching her eat while my mind churned with bitter thoughts. This was supposed to be a time for family, for warmth and joy, yet my daughter had been left in a cold hospital room, abandoned by the people who should have cherished her most.

When she finally finished, I stroked her hair gently. "Eloise, Mommy has to take care of something. Be a good girl and wait here, okay? I'll come back soon to take you home."

Terror filled her eyes as she gripped my hand tightly. "Mommy, don't leave me. Daddy doesn't want me anymore... Please don't go too."

I leaned down and kissed her forehead, my voice soft but firm. "Sweetheart, Mommy will never leave you. It's not Daddy who doesn't want you. It's Mommy who doesn't want him anymore."

***

The drive back home was a blur, my hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. My knuckles turned white and my jaw was clenched so hard it ached. I arrived at the house just as laughter rang out from inside, the glow of warm lights spilling through the windows.

Pushing the front door open with a bang, I stepped inside and the chatter instantly ceased. All eyes turned to me as I took in the scene: the long dining table laden with a lavish feast, twelve meticulously prepared dishes gleaming under the light. Tyler sat next to Evelyn, giggling as he clutched a piece of meat—meat that had once been Arlo.

Anger surged through me like a tidal wave. Tyler's eyes met mine and he immediately dropped the piece of meat, hiding behind Evelyn as though he sensed the storm brewing within me. Evelyn, noticing my glare, scowled and stood, her voice shrilled and accusatory. "Elsa! What do you think you're doing barging in here like that?"

Ignoring her, I turned my gaze to Simon, who was seated comfortably beside Raya, his arm casually draped over her shoulders. The sight made my stomach turn.

"While your bastard enjoys a feast, my daughter is lying in a hospital bed, starving and alone," I spat, my voice trembling with fury. "Do you seriously expect me to let this slide?"

Tyler began to wail loudly and Simon quickly stood, trying to shield both Raya and the boy. "Come on, Elsa. Don't overreact. Tyler's just a kid; he didn't mean any harm."

"Oh, yeah?" I hissed, my voice rising. "And what about Eloise? Is she not your daughter too?"

Simon opened his mouth but hesitated, casting a nervous glance at Evelyn. She took the opportunity to interject, stepping forward with an air of righteous indignation. "Tyler is my grandson—the heir of this family! Of course, Simon should value him more!"

Her words sent a fresh wave of rage coursing through me. I turned to Simon, my eyes blazing. "Is that what you think too? That Eloise doesn't matter because she's a girl?"

Simon avoided my gaze, but the silence was answer enough. Raya smirked, stepping closer to him. "Simon's just being practical, Elsa. You can't blame him. A son carries on the family name."

I let out a hollow laugh, the sound echoing eerily in the tense silence. My gaze fell once again on the table, on the sumptuous feast they had prepared while my daughter had gone hungry. Without a second thought, I strode forward and flipped the table over with all the strength I could muster. Plates and bowls clattered to the floor, shattering upon impact. Food spilled everywhere, creating a chaotic mess.

"If my daughter can't eat, then none of you will," I said coldly, my voice cutting through the stunned silence like a knife. "Nobody gets to celebrate tonight."