On that fateful day, by the time I pulled Nathan out of the water, his eyes were already shut tight. I held him in my arms, his soaked body limp, his skin cold and pale. My tears fell in silence, mingling with the water clinging to his lashes.

I remembered his question from before, I leaned closer, pressing my lips to his ear, trying to soothe him with the lie I'd always told.

"Daddy doesn't hate you," I whispered. "He's just..."

But the memories that surged back made it impossible to finish that sentence. Because the truth was too cruel.

Back then, Jake hated me so much that he kept me under lock and key, just waiting for Nathan to be born so he could run a DNA test. He never believed Nathan could be his—not after what he did. He even thought of using Nathan to humiliate me, to satisfy his thirst for revenge.

But fate had other plans—Nathan was his.

Ashamed of what my body had endured, I once stood at the edge of a bridge with Nathan in my arms, ready to end it all. But Emily stopped me just in time. She slapped me, dragged me back and stormed into the Lawrence mansion to confront Jake.

Later, on the operating table, just as the anesthesia blurred my senses, she leaned down and whispered, "Wendy, it was Jake who wronged you. I'll make sure he spends the rest of his life making it up to you. And if one day you remember everything and still choose to leave, I'll let you go."

Maybe that memory had buried itself too deep, because for seven years, I truly believed I was Claudia. Emily went from hesitating over the name at first to calling me "Claudia" with maternal warmth, as if the lie had become truth.

But now—with Nathan gone—everything has returned. The pain swells like a tsunami, dragging me under, threatening to drown me.

In the hospital, Emily watched me silently. She understood, without me saying a word, that the façade could no longer hold. She clutched Nathan's tiny body to her chest, her lips trembling.

"Wendy... it was my fault," she said, her voice raw. "I thought Claudia would never come back after we faked her death..."

My heart, already numb, twisted again.

Before I could ask her anything, she grabbed her phone with shaking hands and dialed Jake.

The phone rang for what felt like forever before someone finally picked up. But it wasn't Jake's voice—it was Claudia's sugary, sweet tone.

"Emily? Jake's in the shower," she said with a soft giggle. "Is something urgent? I can pass along a message."

Emily's hands trembled with fury. "Put Jake on the phone. Tell him to get to the hospital now."

A pause. Then Jake answered, clearly annoyed. "Mom, seriously? Claudia and I are celebrating. Can you not ruin the mood? Unless you want another grandkid, maybe don't call right now."

Emily's voice broke. "Nathan is dead! You heartless bastard, get your ass to the hospital!"

Jake scoffed, laughing bitterly. "You're unbelievable. Making up something like that just to guilt-trip me? Nathan isn't a great swimmer, sure, but he wouldn't just die. And now that Claudia's back, I'm done pretending. I'm sick of playing the loving husband to that fake bitch. And you? You can stop trying to control my life."

The line cut off.

Emily stared at her phone in disbelief before throwing it to the floor. It shattered against the tiles.

Covering her face, she sobbed uncontrollably. "Wendy... I'm so sorry... This is all my fault...

"I shouldn't have let him change your face... I shouldn't have allowed him to erase you... and I never should have given you Claudia's name."

She gripped my hand tightly, as if holding on could somehow lessen the damage. Her voice shook as she began to confess everything.

It turned out Claudia never died.

Seven years ago, after accepting the money, Claudia proposed faking her death to disappear overseas. She promised she'd never return. Emily agreed, thinking it was over. But Claudia had been lying in wait all along, biding her time for Jake to seize control of the Lawrence Group before crawling back into his life.

"I didn't know she'd come back," Emily whispered. "I thought... if you loved Jake enough, he'd let go of the past. I really thought..."

I stared at her, my eyes hollow, the edges of my vision blurring. Even though she'd treated me like a daughter for seven years, every word she spoke now felt like another knife carving through my already-broken heart.

With trembling fingers, Emily reached into her bag and pulled out a sleek, black card. Without hesitation, she forced it into my hand.

"Wendy, I know I can't make you stay anymore. Take this card—as a way to make up for everything."

I looked down at the black card in her trembling hands and suddenly let out a low laugh.

How ironic.

Seven years ago, she used money to make Claudia disappear. And now, seven years later, she wanted to use money again—this time to send me away. To keep me quiet. To make sure I didn't cause trouble.

Still laughing, I took the card. Then I turned and walked toward the funeral van, clutching Nathan's cold, fragile body tightly in my arms.

Emily ran after me, sobbing, her voice hoarse. "Wendy, at least let Nathan be buried in the Lawrence family cemetery. Please..."

I shook my head. My voice came out weightless, carried away by the breeze. "He doesn't deserve it."

No. It wasn't Nathan who was undeserving. It was the Lawrence family. That cursed patch of earth didn't deserve to be his final resting place.

Emily stopped in her tracks, stunned into silence. After a long pause, she took a breath and tried again, softer this time. "Then... at least let me hold a funeral. Even if it's just a memorial tomb. He deserves that much, doesn't he?"

I didn't answer. But I didn't stop her either. I let her make the arrangements.

By the time I got home, night had already fallen. I stepped through the door with Nathan's urn pressed against my chest—only to hear the sound of Jake's low, satisfied laughter coming from the living room.

I stood in the entrance, the dim hallway light casting a long shadow. There they were, tangled on the sofa—Jake and Claudia. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her smile smug and content.

My gaze was hollow. Empty.

Jake looked up, his eyes meeting mine. His smile vanished. He pulled away from Claudia and stood, towering over me with his usual arrogance.

"You still know your way home?"

I said nothing. My fingers lightly stroked the urn, my movements tender—like I was lulling Nathan to sleep.

Jake's brows furrowed. His gaze swept past me toward the hallway. "Where's Nathan? Get him out here. He needs to apologize to Claudia and I might just forget the whole matter."

He said it like he was doing me a favor. As if all this was some minor inconvenience to him.

Nathan's only "crime" was recognizing that Claudia wasn't his mother. And for that, he had to pay with his life?

I looked up slowly, the corners of my lips curling into a bitter smile.

"Nathan is dead."

Jake blinked. For a second, he seemed genuinely caught off guard. Then his expression twisted into fury.

"What kind of joke is that?" he barked. "You think that's funny?"

He laughed—a cruel, mocking sound that echoed through the living room.

"You think you can threaten me by hiding the kid? Is that it?"

His voice grew sharper. "Overindulgent mothers raise useless sons. Hide him all you want. Let him rot in the dark like a rat—just like you."

I stared at him, blank and unmoving, as if watching a stranger rant about someone I didn't know.

Jake sneered. "What, cat got your tongue now?"

He yanked his phone from his pocket, pulled up a video and shoved the screen in front of my face.

"Let me remind you who you really are now that Claudia's back where she belongs."

The screen lit up with a grainy video—that nightmare from seven years ago. A circle of unfamiliar men surrounding me. My body trembling. Jake, just outside the frame, his smirk cold as ice.

I froze. The room tilted. My stomach churned with nausea, but no tears came. Not anymore.

"You see that?" Jake hissed, his voice full of venom. "You were never Claudia. You're just a filthy whore I dressed up and played house with."

"For seven years, I had to watch this video every damn day just to stomach being near you."

He pulled a card from his wallet and flung it at my face, followed by a photo—one from seven years ago, before the surgery.

"Here. Take the money and fix that face. I can't stand looking at you anymore."

The photo fluttered to the floor. I looked down at it—the woman staring back at me barely resembled the person I was now. And yet, she was me. The real me.

Yet I couldn't recognize her at all.

I didn't cry. Didn't scream. I didn't even flinch.

Jake studied me, waiting for a reaction. Any reaction. His expression twisted with irritation when I gave him none.

"What's wrong? Nothing to say now?"

Still no response.

His rage snapped. He turned, yanked something from beneath the coffee table and slammed it onto the glass.

It was a LEGO box—still unopened.

"Today is Nathan's birthday. You'd better be smart and bring him out to apologize. Otherwise, he can forget about ever celebrating his birthday again!"

Jake stood in the living room doorway with a mocking tilt to his mouth. The crystal lamp above cast patches of light and shadow across his smug face.

I stood still, arms wrapped around Nathan's urn. My fingers traced its smooth, cold surface as I looked up at him and gave a faint, hollow smile.

"As you wish," I said quietly. "Nathan is dead. He'll never celebrate another birthday again."

The color drained from Jake's face. Claudia, standing beside him in sky-high heels and a tight white blouse, gave a dramatic gasp and clutched at her chest like she was onstage.

"Oh my God, how could you be so cruel?" she shrieked. "You're even cursing your own son!"

Jake's patience snapped. In two strides, he reached me and snatched the urn from my hands like it was trash. He didn't even look at it before hurling it into the nearby bin.

"Wendy, can you just get it through your thick skull? Just because you gave birth to a son doesn't mean you can tie me down for life!"

The clang of wood hitting metal rang out. Something cracked inside me.

I rushed forward, nearly tripping and dug through the bin with trembling hands until I found the urn again. Cradling it to my chest, I backed away, breathing hard.

"Jake!" I choked. "If you hate me, then hate me! Why did you have to kill Nathan?"

His face darkened, eyes flashing. He stepped forward and slapped the urn from my arms with a brutal sweep.

"Enough of this crap!"

The urn hit the floor with a dull thud. The lid rolled away and pale gray ashes spilled out across the floor like a scattering of dust.

I dropped to my knees. My hands shook as I tried to gather the ashes, scooping them back into the broken vessel while tears blurred my vision.

"Nathan... Nathan..." I whimpered.

Jake stood over me, face like carved stone. His voice dropped to a frigid murmur.

"I'm giving you a month. Get your face fixed. I don't want to see Claudia in you—or the pathetic you from before. Looking at you makes me sick.

"From now on, stay quietly at the Lawrences' manor with your son. I'll show up once a month. That's more than someone like you deserves."

He turned away, the echo of his footsteps trailing toward the bathroom. I heard water running a moment later—he was washing his hands. Of Nathan's ashes.

Claudia hadn't moved. Her heels clicked lightly on the floor as she approached the spill, grinding ash underfoot. She leaned close, her voice low and poisonous.

"Trying to steal my man, aren't you? You deserved to lose your son.

"You think just because you wore my face, you could become me? Keep dreaming."

I looked up at her—at the face that mirrored mine. My body moved on instinct.

I stood and slapped her across the face, the sound loud and sharp in the still room.

Jake charged out of the bathroom. His hand clamped around my wrist like a vice.

He didn't hesitate. His palm struck my cheek with brutal force.

"Wendy! Apologize to Claudia!"

My head snapped sideways. Warm blood gushed from my nose and slid down to the corner of my lips. I wiped it away slowly, then turned back to Claudia and stared at her.

"Keep dreaming," I said coldly.

Then I dropped back to my knees. My fingers reached for Nathan's ashes, trying to keep the blood from dripping onto them—but it was too late. Red drops landed on the gray powder, blooming like wounds in snow.

I scrubbed at my nose, desperate. Nathan had always been scared of blood. I couldn't let him see it now. Not even like this.

Behind me, Jake's foot shifted. I looked up in time to see him raise it to kick me again—but a sudden buzz interrupted him.

He froze, pulling his phone from his pocket. His brows furrowed.

A message lit up the screen.

[Mr. Lawrence, the DNA comparison results are in. This time we used a different hospital. The samples from Nathan are a complete mismatch with yours.]

He turned the screen toward me slowly, like he couldn't believe it himself.

Then his foot came crashing down on my abdomen.

"Wendy, you dared lie to me for seven years?!

"Bitch! You made me raise another man's bastard?!"

The pain stole the air from my lungs. I slammed against the wall, my back hitting the hard surface with a crack. My nose, just beginning to clot, burst open again in a fresh wave of blood.

Feigning concern, Claudia rushed over, wrapping her arms around Jake, pulling him back with trembling hands.