A sound came out of me that I did not recognize.

"No!"

My body moved before my mind did. I lunged for the urn.

Too late.

It hit the ground between us. The lid came off.

The white ash that had been my father drifted out, light and weightless. It settled on the wet ground, mixing with the dirt.

The world stopped.

I sat where I had fallen. The white was the only thing I could see.

That had been my father.

That had been the man who tucked me in when I had a fever, the man who taught me to ride a bike on the road in front of our house, the man who looked at me and said I was the best thing in his life.

"Dad..."

The sound that came out of me was something broken, almost inhuman.

Stella was startled for a moment. Then her expression twisted into something like satisfaction. She looked down at me.

"Serves you right!"

Her voice was not loud, but it cut deep. "If you hadn't gone after Hudson, the urn wouldn't have fallen. This is on you."

I knelt in the dirt. Tears streamed down my face, dripping into my father's ashes and staining them dark.

I did not wipe my face. I did not respond to Stella. I did not look at Hudson, who stood beside her with an undisguised smirk.

I reached out with trembling hands, gathering the ashes little by little, trying to put them back into the urn.

"I'm sorry, Dad... I'm so sorry... this is my fault..."

Hudson had his arm around Stella's waist. He let out a theatrical sigh.

"Damon, don't take it too hard. The man is already dead. Besides, this was your own carelessness..."

By the time I had gathered everything I could and placed it back into the urn, I held it close and turned to leave.

"Did I say you could go?"

Stella's cold voice came from behind me. Her hand grabbed my arm.

"I'm not done with those ashes. Give them to me."

"Not done?"

I shook her off.

Two days of grief and rage exploded all at once.

I clutched the urn tightly to my chest, my eyes bloodshot as I glared at her.

"Stella! Are you even human?!

"My father, when he was alive, treated you like his own daughter! He cared about you in every way. You know that!

"What did he ever do to you? Why are you still tormenting him even after he's dead?! You won't even let his ashes rest!"

I had thought that no matter how far gone she was, she would at least have some respect for the dead.

I was wrong.

Completely wrong.

Stella showed no guilt. Instead, a cold, twisted smile spread across her face.

"Treated me well?"

She let out a mocking laugh.

"Damon, don't think I don't know what your so-called good father did to me behind your back."

Her eyes went venomous. She spoke slowly, making sure I heard every word.

"Letting my son use his ashes as a potty was already giving him face. If it weren't for you, I would have fed his ashes to the dogs."

"What... what did you say?"

My voice trembled. I could hardly believe my ears.

Hudson walked over, arms folded, then hooked an arm around Stella.

"Damon, if it weren't for your father, Zane would have been aborted long ago."

His eyes reddened. "When Stella was pregnant, your father used the excuse of bringing soup to visit her, but he put abortion drugs in it."

"If I hadn't discovered it in time, Zane would already be…"

I clenched my teeth, cutting him off.

"Impossible. My father would never do something like that."

My father was the gentlest man I had ever known.

Even when he found out Stella had cheated and was carrying another man's child, he only said to me, calm but firm, "Just divorce her. You and I will live our own lives."

He had never once thought of harming anyone.

Stella's eyes turned red. She stepped forward and kicked me to the ground.

"I saw it with my own eyes. How could it be fake?

"And because of that old man, Zane was weak even in the womb. That's why he has night terrors.

"So your father's ashes must stay."

The pain in my abdomen was unbearable, but I still clutched the urn tightly, refusing to let go.

The taste of blood rose in my throat.

"No way. I will never let your bastard humiliate my father."

The moment those words left my mouth, both Stella and Hudson's expressions changed.

"Who are you calling a b*stard?

"Get on your knees and apologize to my Zane."

Hudson looked at me with pure hatred. Not being able to give his child a proper name had always been his pain. Now it turned into rage against me.

I refused.

Stella stepped forward and grabbed the back of my neck.

She forced me down.

My head hit the ground three times, three forced bows to the child in Hudson's arms.

My dignity felt completely crushed.

Only when Stella shoved me away like a piece of trash did it stop.

"Forget it. Your father's ashes are already filthy. They're not worthy for my Zane to use."

She dragged me into the villa.

"Then you can atone for him. Wash the clothes my son dirtied this morning."

She shoved me to the floor.

In front of me was a basin full of children's clothes, stained with something foul.

"I am not washing that. Keep dreaming."

Stella let out a cold laugh.

"If you don't wash them, then I really will feed your father's ashes to the dogs."

I knew she was capable of it.

I looked into her cold eyes, and in the end, I gave in.

I could not let my father lose his peace, even in death.

I crouched down and began washing the clothes, fighting the nausea.

Stella glanced at me with disdain.

"Wash them properly. If there's even one stain left, you'll lick it clean."

With that, she wrapped her arm around Hudson and walked into the living room.

Soon, intimate sounds drifted out.

They made no effort to hide it.

The sounds reached my ears, turning my stomach.

At last, I finished washing the pile, wrung them dry.

Hudson picked up a piece and put it on the child in his arms.

I held my father's urn weakly and looked at Stella.

"Can I leave now?"

The next second…

Hudson let out a sharp scream.

"What did you put on the clothes? Why is my son breaking out in a rash?"

Stella forgot the rest of it. She was at the boy's side in two strides.

The skin on him was already pink, then red. Hives rose in a pattern across his belly and his shoulders. His face was hot.

Stella's eyes flooded with red. She turned and grabbed me by the collar.

"What did you do to my son?"

I shook my head. The grip cut off my air.

"Tell me, what did you put on the clothes? What did you do to Zane?"

Her voice was shredded.

"You animal! He's a baby. You're as evil as that old man of yours!"

The words went through me like a hot iron.

"I didn't… I didn't do anything to him."

I had not. I would never. There was no way I would do anything to a baby.

To Stella, that meant nothing.

"You're saying it was Hudson? He is the boy's father. A father wouldn't hurt his own son."

I had no answer.

She let me go. Her gaze shifted to the urn in my arms.

"You won't take this when it's offered? Then I am taking it from you.

"You will not see your father's ashes again."

She reached.

The blood in my arms went cold. The control I had been holding cracked.

"Please… please don't. It wasn't me. I'll do anything, anything you want. Just don't."

I was about to fall to my knees again. I would have. The pride and dignity I'd had walking in here had been gone for hours.

I just wanted my father back in my arms.

That was when the noise hit the house.

A black SUV came through the front gate, straight into the living room.

The floor-to-ceiling windows shattered. Glass flew everywhere.

Through the dust, the driver's side door was thrown open.

A tall figure stepped out, backlit. I could not see her face.

I knew her from the way she carried herself.

Cassia Wynn.

The fear and grief I had been holding in broke loose the moment I saw her.

"Cassia!"

My voice came out hoarse as I shouted with everything I had:

"Save my father! Hurry, save my father!"