Tara’s eyes grew misty.

“Wren is such a kind person. She’ll definitely give us her blessing. I’ll truly be grateful to her.”

Someone beside them chimed in immediately:

“Sister-in-law’s love for Erick is something no one can compare to! Back then, to help Erick secure that project, she even dared to handle those old men at the banquet table—drinking, singing, entertaining them without so much as a frown.”

“And don’t forget the time Erick had that severe gastroenteritis and was rushed in for emergency surgery. She thought he was dying. She knelt outside the operating room and refused to leave, crying until her voice was completely gone. We all saw how deeply she cared.”

“With someone who loves Erick that much, how could she ever leave? This little thing? It’s nothing to her.”

Hearing this, Erick fell silent for a moment before pulling Tara closer, holding her protectively in his arms.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you and the child have a home.”

In that instant, standing at the doorway, it felt as though the entire world went silent.

I finally understood—

those who love the deepest are the ones most easily turned into a joke.

Watching him hold another woman in his arms, my fingers curled tightly at my sides.

How thoughtful he was.

He had already planned to give Tara a home.

Since he wanted to give—

how could I not grant it?

I was about to head to the cemetery to sit with my child, when the cemetery administrator suddenly called.

His voice was frantic, almost cracking.

“Ms. Wren! Someone is tampering with your child’s grave!”

For a second, it felt like lightning struck straight through my body.

My blood roared in my ears, and my heart slammed violently against my ribs.

I didn’t think.

I didn’t breathe.

I simply turned and ran—ran like I was tearing myself apart.

My child loved sunlight, loved daisies.

She once said that when she grew up, she wanted to plant an entire backyard of white flowers.

She never got the chance.

So I did it for her.

I didn’t put up a tombstone.

I used a sea of white daisies to build her little world—

the gentlest home I could give her.

But when I reached the depths of the cemetery, the sight before me nearly took my breath away.

Erick stood there.

Tara was nestled safely in his arms.

Two bodyguards were swinging shovels, ripping up my daisies—throwing them aside like trash.

My child’s urn sat carelessly on the muddy ground, stained with dirt.

My world collapsed.

“What are you doing!”

My scream tore out of me like something ripping open from the inside.

I rushed forward, shoving the bodyguards away, half-feral with panic.

Tara shrank deeper into Erick’s arms, her voice trembling pitifully.

“I heard someone say your child wasn’t really buried here… I didn’t believe it, so I told them to check if there were ashes inside. Without a tombstone, how was I supposed to know? Why are you yelling like that… you’re scaring me…”

Her delicate, trembling act—

yet her methods were more vicious than anyone’s.

I didn’t waste breath arguing with her.

I snatched a shovel and began digging wildly, ripping open the soil they had just filled.

This was my child’s place—

her only resting place.

No one could touch it.

No one could take it.

“Wren, have you lost your mind? Stop!”

Erick roared, seizing the shovel from my hands.

I lifted my face to look at him, my eyes frozen with hatred.

“Erick… calling you a monster is too much of a compliment.”

Then I fell to my knees and used my hands to dig.

Soil mixed with daisy stems wedged between my fingers—

and none of it hurt.

Just as my fingers were about to touch the urn, Tara suddenly shrieked,

“What are you waiting for? Grab her! Don’t let her take that thing!”

The two bodyguards lunged at me instantly, dragging me off the ground with brute force.

“Let go of me!”

I struggled until my whole body trembled, until it felt like I was being torn apart.

This land—

this tiny plot of earth—

was the last warmth I guarded for my child.

And they wanted to take even this away.

Erick’s face darkened, thick and heavy like a stormy night.

He stepped toward me, each footfall filled with blame.

“You’re being ridiculous! Apologize to Tara right now. People outside are spreading rumors about my child’s death—Tara was only trying to help me clarify. And bring our daughter back! Leaving her alone in the countryside—what kind of mother are you?”

He looked down at me like a judge delivering a sentence, as if I were the one who had committed an unforgivable crime.

He wanted me to apologize

to the woman who had ordered my child’s grave to be dug up.

A sharp pain shot through my chest, twisting like a blade from the inside.

I lifted my head and stared straight at Erick, my voice cold enough to freeze bone.

“Dream on.”

Tara immediately put on a frightened act, nestling weakly into Erick’s arms, though triumph flickered unmistakably in her eyes.

“Erick, didn’t you always say she was gentle and obedient? Look at her now… If people saw this, they’d think you married a lunatic.”

Erick’s brows knitted tighter and tighter.

The look he gave me carried only impatience and disgust.

“Did you hear her? Don’t embarrass me.”

His tone hardened.

“Go back to your hometown and take care of our daughter. How could you leave Tara alone at home? Where is your sense of responsibility?”

I stared at him, biting down on each word until it almost shattered between my teeth.

“You still dare say the words ‘care about our daughter’?”

Erick didn’t show a shred of guilt.

He replied as if everything were perfectly reasonable:

“Of course I care. I don’t have time to stay with her because I’m busy making money to give her a better future. She’s my only daughter—my entire estate will be hers someday. When she grows up and starts her own family, I’ll throw her the grandest wedding in the whole city. She’ll be proud to have a father like me.”

Each word was like a dull knife slowly slicing through my heart.

I roared,

“Stop lying to yourself! If you had even a shred of conscience, you wouldn’t have abandoned her on the highway just because Tara asked! She was six! Do you know how terrified she was? You didn’t even look back once!”

Cornered, Erick’s temper snapped. His patience went up in flames.

“Can you stop being so annoying? You harp on every little thing! I told you—she’s at your mother’s house! What are you trying to do, drive me insane?!”

And then, anger twisting his face, he lifted his leg and kicked violently at the urn.

“Move!”

Bang!

The urn flew, hitting the stone ground hard, rolling several times before—

Crack.

It shattered.

White ashes exploded onto the ground, scattering like torn clouds in the wind.

In that moment, the world turned black and white.

I couldn’t even hear myself breathe.

My child—

all that remained of her—

was blown apart with a single kick from her own father.

As the urn broke, something inside me collapsed.

A buzzing filled my skull, and the world fell completely silent.

The first time, it was a truck that hurled her tiny body into the air.

This time, it was her biological father who destroyed what was left of her form.

So it turns out—

a person can die twice.

Once in the body.

Once in the soul.

Wind swept through the cemetery.

Pale white ashes were lifted into the air, scattering into countless shards of light beneath the sun.

I used every ounce of strength I had to break free from the bodyguards’ grip and threw myself toward the drifting white.

“No… don’t… please don’t…”

I reached out, trying to gather them in my hands, but the ashes slipped through my fingers like wind, like dreams.

They escaped my palms the same way my daughter slipped from my arms and disappeared from this world.

The last trace of my child

vanished into the breeze.

I collapsed into the mud, my trembling hands scraping desperately at the faint remnants left behind.

Soil mixed with ashes.

Ashes mixed with broken daisy stems.

And all of it mixed with the shattered pieces of my life.

“Come… back…”

My voice barely formed sound, my chest splitting open as though a dull saw were slowly cutting it apart.

Tears dripped from my chin—onto the mud, onto the petals, onto the bone dust.

No one reached out.

No one stopped anything.

Everyone simply watched, detached and silent.

Then Tara stepped forward from the crowd.

The clicking of her heels on stone was crisp and jarringly loud.

She lifted her foot—slowly, gracefully—and brought it down with deliberate force onto the ashes I was trying to shield.

Crunch.

That sound was the sound of my entire heart being crushed.

She looked down at me, expression elegant, her voice cold as shards of ice.

“Wren, what exactly are you grabbing at?”

She feigned confusion before letting out a mocking laugh.

“Isn’t this just a pile of nameless ashes? Don’t tell me you’re trying to stop Danny’s burial with this pathetic act. Do you really think anyone will believe such a pitiful little performance?”

In that moment, I couldn’t even cry.

“Get away!”

I screamed, shoving her hard.

Tara stumbled, losing her balance, falling onto the cemetery path.

The second she hit the ground, Erick came rushing toward us, fury burning in his eyes.

There was no shock.

No pity.

Only concern for Tara—and pure disgust for me.

Without a word, he raised his hand.

Smack!

The slap cracked across my face, echoing violently through the empty graveyard.

It was the first time he had ever hit me.

My head snapped to the side, but strangely, I felt no pain.

Because compared to the agony in my heart, any pain on my skin was nothing but a whisper.

The wind blew across the cemetery.

Daisies lay crushed in the mud.

Ashes danced in the air.

And I stood in the center—like a shadow abandoned by the entire world.

Erick gritted his teeth and roared,

“How dare you lay a hand on her?!”

I slowly lifted my head.

There was no sorrow left in my eyes—only a hollow, absolute deadness.

“Erick…”

My voice was hoarse.

“You don’t deserve to be her father.”

Blinded by rage, Erick jabbed his finger toward me and shouted,

“You left the child alone at home and came here to scream at Tara? You narrow-minded, selfish woman—how do you even dare call yourself a mother?”

Every word he spoke stabbed into my chest like a knife.

“You love clutching that pile of random ashes so much, don’t you?”

Erick sneered, his gaze dripping with contempt.

“Then stay here and cry all you want. From now on, you won’t be allowed near our daughter ever again. She stays with me. I won’t let her be raised by a twisted mother like you.”

Finished, he pulled out his phone, his tone icy as steel.

“Tina, right now—bring my daughter to my private villa. And unless I say otherwise, Wren is never to see her again.”

There was silence on the other end.

A long, trembling silence.

Then Tina’s unsteady voice came through, shaking:

“Mr. Erick… your daughter died in the car accident on the day you were supposed to pick her up.”

“And I also discovered… the daisy-covered grave… is where her ashes were buried.”