Ferris's late sister used to have a nightgown just like it.

Except Lydia's version had considerably less fabric.

She leaned forward slightly, the neckline gaping wide, leaving nothing to the imagination.

I looked at the way she trembled, then at Ferris's hand patting her back, and felt something close to a laugh rise in my throat.

I turned and went back to my room.

Whatever.

I'd be gone soon enough anyway.

The next morning, Ferris drove Lydia to the office ahead of me.

I took my medication and biked there on my own.

The moment I reached the entrance, I could hear the commotion inside.

I had barely sat down when Ferris stormed up to me,

“The Fairview project. What the hell did you do? There's a massive screw-up, and the company just lost five million dollars!”

I froze.

“That project was handed over to Lydia a long time ago……”

Lydia's voice cut in from behind him,

“Ms. Lambert, you made the mistake yourself. Why are you trying to pin it on me?”

She stood behind Ferris, eyes rimmed red, like she'd just been crying.

Ferris announced in front of everyone that my entire year's salary would be docked, along with every year-end bonus for my team.

The looks around me shifted instantly, filling with resentment and bitterness.

That evening, when I got home, Ferris and Lydia were already at the dining table.

The two of them were chatting and laughing.

I had no appetite. I walked straight for the stairs.

Ferris's voice came from behind me,

“About today. Don't take it to heart.”

I stopped and turned to look at him.

He went on,

“Lydia's the one who made the mistake, but if someone else yelled at her, she wouldn't be able to handle it.”

I thought I'd heard him wrong.

“So you think I'm the one who deserves to be yelled at?”

Ferris frowned, his tone matter-of-fact,

“You've been here for years. You've been chewed out plenty of times before. Don't be so petty about it.”

I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms.

Right then, a dull thud came from the dining table.

Lydia had both hands clamped around her own throat, eyes rolling back, white foam spilling from her mouth.

The next second, she pitched off the chair and hit the floor hard.

In the hospital room, Lydia lay in bed, her face drained of color.

The doctor said it was food poisoning.

She opened her eyes slowly, the rims swollen and red,

“Ms. Lambert, why would you do this? I'm not trying to steal Mr. Farley from you……”

“That night when the thunder came, I saw you standing on the stairs. Do you hate me now?”

She grabbed my sleeve, tears sliding down her cheeks,

“I'm just an orphan with nobody in this world. How could I possibly dare to steal your husband? Ms. Lambert, please, just let me go. I'm begging you.”

Ferris stood beside the bed, his expression darkening by the second.

But my eyes had landed on the bouquet of roses on her nightstand.

Red enough to sting.

My heart seized. So Ferris wasn't allergic to flowers after all. He just didn't like the ones I bought.

Ferris spoke, “You're the one in charge of grocery shopping at home.”

My head snapped toward him, and something inside my chest split open.

It wasn't a question. It was a verdict.

He stared at me, cold and unyielding,

“You've always known your place. What made you pull something this thoughtless?!”

Lydia tugged at the hem of Ferris's sleeve,

“Mr. Farley, Ms. Lambert must have just had a lapse in judgment. It's my fault, really. That night when the thunder started, it brought back memories of being bullied, and I couldn't control how scared I was. Don't blame her. If you have to blame someone, blame me.”

Ferris stepped in front of Lydia, shielding her.

I looked at the way he stood there, and everything suddenly felt absurd.

I looked at Lydia's tear-streaked face, delicate as a rain-soaked flower, and spoke calmly,

“Lydia, drop the act. I'll divorce Ferris. You'll get what you want soon enough.”

“Slap——”

The blow landed hard across my face.

Ferris's hand hung in the air, trembling. He turned on me and shouted,

“Antonia! You've gone too far! Get home. Now.”

I turned my head back slowly.

My cheek was numb. So was everything else.

I looked into his eyes and found nothing there but rage and disgust. My voice came out thin, weightless.

“Fine. I'm leaving.”

I turned and walked out of the hospital.

Rain poured down outside. I opened my umbrella and stepped into it, mud spattering the hem of my dress within seconds.

When I got home, I peeled the dress off and threw it in the trash.

It was the dress I'd worn the day Ferris and I signed at city hall.

I didn't know why I'd put it on today.

Maybe somewhere deep down, I'd remembered that today was our sixth wedding anniversary.

He never remembered anniversaries.

Six years, and not once.

Ours had been an arranged corporate marriage from the start.

Except my family went bankrupt and my parents died in an accident, while the Farleys only rose higher.

His mother liked me. She'd insisted I marry into the family.

But Ferris resented having his life decided for him, and he never let me forget it.

Then Lydia appeared.

Ferris's coldness thawed overnight. He smiled. He worried. He cared.

I fought him on it. I screamed. I fell apart.

Every time, he looked at me with that flat, hollow stare, like I was a child throwing a tantrum he didn't have time for.

“Know your place. Have a baby. Stop acting like a shrew.”

“Lydia just reminds me of my dead sister. I look out for her a little more, that's all. Don't read into it.”

He said Lydia reminded him of his sister. After that, I had no ground left to stand on.

Three years ago, the day I went into labor, I was hemorrhaging on the delivery table. The doctors called him dozens of times.

He sent back one text.

“Ms. Lambert, I'm out shopping with Lydia. Weekends are my personal time. If it's serious, call 911. File it as a workplace injury.”

My baby didn't make it.

Incidents like that, one after another, each one a blade carving into the same wound.

This marriage had lost any reason to continue a long time ago.

After Lydia was discharged, Ferris grew even colder toward me.

He took her on a trip and didn't come back for days.

My last day at the company happened to fall on the year-end retreat.

The company had booked an entire cruise ship.

Ferris and Lydia stood at the center of the crowd in evening wear, glasses clinking, laughter flowing.

I stood in a corner, silent.

Halfway through the party, Ferris had someone wheel out a cake. He smiled and said,

“We have a special announcement tonight.”

He announced in front of everyone that he was transferring all of the company's core client accounts to Lydia and promoting her to Vice President.

The room erupted.

“Ms. Lambert's been here for years and never got promoted?”

“Oh, please. She's the one who cost us our bonuses last time. Serves her right.”

Ferris turned to me, his tone casual, almost offhand.

“Ms. Lambert, hand your remaining client accounts over to Lydia. Going forward, you'll handle admin.”

Those accounts were the last connections my parents had left me before they died. Ferris knew that.

Lydia walked over with a champagne flute, smiling sweetly.

“Thanks so much, Ms. Lambert. You're so detail-oriented. I'm sure you'll do great in admin. Cheers.”

She took a sip, then paused as though something had just occurred to her.

“Oh, right, Ms. Lambert. You had some old contracts locked in your cabinet. I had someone pull them out so we can get everything squared away today.”

She clapped her hands.

Someone brought out a box, tossing the contents onto the deck one by one.

A folder. A notebook. A stack of business cards.

Then she pulled out a photograph.

It was a photo of my mother.

Taken before she died. The bankruptcy had drained her completely, left her so thin she was barely recognizable.

It was the only photograph of her I had.

Lydia held it between two fingers and read aloud what I'd written on the back: “Mom, I miss you so much.”

A few people laughed.

She let go.

A gust of sea wind caught the photograph, swept it over the railing and into the ocean. It was gone in a blink.

“No——”

I lunged for it. My hands closed on nothing.

I turned and glared at her, my eyes burning red.

“You……”

Lydia leaned in close, her voice so soft only I could hear it.

“Don't start crying yet, Ms. Lambert. I'm not done.”

Everyone was about to scatter when she let out a sudden shriek.

“My necklace! My necklace is gone!”

Ferris spun around immediately.

“What necklace? What happened?”

Lydia's eyes brimmed with tears.

“It's a pearl necklace my grandmother left me before she passed. It's not worth much, but it means everything to me.”

Ferris's expression darkened. He called the cruise ship's security over at once and ordered them to search.

That was when Lydia raised her hand and pointed straight at me, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“I saw you go into the lounge. You took it.”

I clenched my fists. “Lydia! What would I want with your necklace?”

Lydia cried harder, her voice shrill and pitiful.

“Because you're jealous of me. You think I stole your position!”

I turned to Ferris.

He hesitated for only a second before looking at me and saying,

“Just give it back to her.”

I couldn't move. It was as if I'd been nailed to the deck.

Lydia stood behind Ferris and pointed at me.

“Strip her. The necklace is on her somewhere!”

Security walked toward me.

I backed away.

“What are you doing?”

They forced me to the ground.

I struggled to break free, but several pairs of rough hands tore at my clothes.

I screamed until my throat gave out.

“Ferris! Ferris! Tell them to let me go!”

Ferris hesitated for a moment, then turned his face away.

I lay on the deck, exposed, left in nothing but my underwear.

Some people gasped. Some looked away. Some quietly raised their phones.

I don't know how long it went on before they finally released me.

I curled up on the deck, shaking all over.

Lydia reached into her own pocket and pulled out a pearl necklace. She looked down at me.

“Oh, here it is. Sorry about that, Ms. Lambert. My mistake.”

Ferris stood beside her. His tone carried a hint of exasperation.

“Try not to be so careless next time.”

The two of them walked off laughing.

The crowd dispersed.

I pulled myself off the deck and walked to the railing.

The ocean was pitch black. I couldn't see a thing.

Six years. I was so tired.

Mom, Dad. I'm coming to find you.

I climbed over the railing and jumped.

The moment I closed my eyes, I finally felt at peace.