Ben switched the air conditioner back to cooling mode, gritting his teeth as he glared at me.

“Serena, you’ve always been this stubborn! You left me with no other choice!”

When I regained consciousness, I realized he had already brought me to my mother’s hospital room.

Ben shoved my face against the small window on the door. Inside, I saw several bodyguards restraining my terrified mother, shoving her head toward a microwave.

He raised his hand in a signal, and the man inside twisted the microwave dial all the way to its maximum. I could practically smell her hair burning. If this continued, I didn’t dare imagine the outcome.

I lunged at Ben, grabbing his collar with all my strength, screaming,

“Are you insane?! That’s my mother, you lunatic!”

Ben looked down calmly, kissed my bloodied fingers with eerie tenderness, and smiled—like a devil in human skin.

“There’s nothing else I can do, Serena. You’re too stubborn. And I just can’t stand to see you die. So, I’ll let your mother die instead.”

“Give me the USB drive, or I’ll let them fry her brain until it bursts. Think very carefully.”

From inside the ward, my mother’s agonized cries rang out:

“It’s burning! What are you doing?! Let me go!”

A stabbing pain pierced through my heart. I shut my eyes tightly as despair overtook me, my voice cracking into a sob.

“The USB... it’s wedged between my phone and the case. Just let her go now—please.”

Ben took the USB, signaled his men to stand down, and lifted my chin with his fingers.

“Serena, without this, you can’t bring charges against Cassandra. And just so you know, I’ve already made sure no lawyer in Saltwater City will take your case.”

Right in front of me, he flushed the USB drive down a nearby drain. I stared at him, consumed by sorrow.

I had once feared that Cassandra might sneak into my home to steal the evidence, then rush to the police station without even thinking of backing it up.

But never—not in a thousand lifetimes—did I imagine that the one who would help her cover up the truth would be her husband.

To protect Cassandra, he didn’t just destroy evidence—he threatened my mother’s life and blackmailed every legal representative in Saltwater City.

Was my daughter’s death going to mean nothing?

I tried to go back into the ward to check on my mother, but Ben yanked my wrist.

“Cassandra knows you’re grieving. She wanted to help, so she’s taken the initiative to set up Lily’s funeral arrangements. Let’s head over.”

“And remember, I’ve told her it was just a tragic accident. Don’t say anything cruel to her again. I won’t allow it.”

On the way, I stared blankly at the crystal ball resting on the dashboard.

It was the very first gift Ben ever gave me. Inside the glass sphere, a tiny couple embraced lovingly—sculpted by his own hands, modeled after the two of us.

Back then, he wasn’t the powerful Mr. Doyle everyone feared. He was just a quiet, reclusive boy in my mother’s class—isolated, awkward, invisible.

His parents had died in a car crash, and greedy relatives had taken all the insurance money, leaving him unable to afford tuition.

My mother, moved by pity, used our family’s savings to support him and even let him live in our home.

In those bleak days, I feared he might collapse under the weight of everything. So I stayed with him every day—encouraging him, making him laugh, helping him with schoolwork.

He worked relentlessly, eventually getting accepted to the same university as me. After graduation, he founded his own company.

When the company finally went public, Ben knelt before me in front of everyone, surrounded by extravagant gifts, and handed me the crystal ball.

I still remember the tremble in his voice, thick with emotion and sincerity:

“Serena, I know you’ve always hated flashy gifts. I gave you those because other women like them—and I want you to have what others have.”

“But this crystal ball... I made it long ago. I never had the courage to give it to you because it holds no value—except for my love.”

"Now, I’m giving it to you—not just to show my love, but to promise that in this life, I’ll give you not only wealth and comfort but a love without end, one meant solely for you. I’ll honor your teacher alongside you, and our family will remain whole, never broken."

But those were just empty words.

He betrayed that promise.

He fell in love with Cassandra, our part-time babysitter—a girl so careless she constantly spilled scalding tea on my hands or, worse, intentionally splashed it on our daughter.

“Serena, Cassandra’s still young. She didn’t mean it,” Ben would say. “Besides, Lily can’t grow up too pampered. She needs to toughen up, or she’ll be useless in the future.”

He even defended her with poetic nonsense: “Doesn’t Cassandra’s struggle to make ends meet remind you of your younger days? You’ve been through the storm—why tear apart someone else’s umbrella?”

At the funeral home, Ben gave me another series of warnings before yanking me inside with rough impatience.

But when we stepped into my daughter’s memorial hall, I was stunned speechless.

The white coffin had been swapped out for one painted bright red—as if this were a wedding, not a funeral.

A cheery version of “Good Days” echoed from the speakers, drawing curious glances from the onlookers.

Cassandra, smiling brightly, was crouched over my daughter’s small corpse, smearing layers of lipstick on her tiny, lifeless face until she was unrecognizable.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

I kicked over the speakers in a frenzy and yanked Cassandra off my daughter’s body.

She staggered in her high heels, twisted her ankle, and stumbled back—right into Ben’s arms. He caught her swiftly and shot me with a venomous glare.

“Serena Shaw! Didn’t I make myself clear? And you still dared to lay a hand on Cassandra? Apologize. Right. Now!”

“Ben, are you blind?! This is Lily’s funeral, and Cassandra turned it into a wedding scene! She desecrated her body and blasted a pop song over her coffin! Is this how she honors a dead child, or is she trying to curse my daughter even in death?!” My voice cracked as I shouted, my eyes burning red with fury.

For a moment, Ben looked uncertain. But Cassandra was quick to act. She wiped her fake tears and looked at me pitifully.

“Ms. Shaw, you were always busy working, never home, never present for Lily. I was the one who stayed with her, who knew what made her smile. She loved the color red and adored the song ‘Good Days.’ She used to beg me to sing it for her all the time.”

“She also liked it when I played dress-up with her. I thought, maybe now that she’s gone, I could send her off with joy instead of grief. Just because you’re traditional and rigid doesn’t mean you get to rob a child of happiness, even after death, right?”

Ben turned to me, cold and composed.

“You heard her. Compared to you—the distant, heartless mother—Cassandra showed Lily more warmth and love. And after everything, you dare slander her? You should be the one apologizing.”

I let out a hollow laugh. Me? Cold-hearted? Indifferent to Lily?

Even with my workload, I was there for Lily from day one.

I handled her meals, her late-night fevers, and her schoolwork. I supported Ben’s startup while raising her on my own. I collapsed from exhaustion more than once.

And what about him?

Ben was always “too busy.” He never changed a single diaper. He didn’t even know her favorite bedtime story.

What right did he have to question my love for her?

I pointed at Cassandra, trembling with fury.

“Shut your filthy mouth, you shameless homewrecker! If you hadn’t stuffed my daughter into that trunk, she wouldn’t have suffocated and died! And now you have the audacity to mock her, smear her body, and pretend you’re the grieving one? Aren’t you afraid of divine punishment?!”

A crowd had begun to gather. Cassandra curled her lips into a smirk.

“Ms. Shaw, I tried to protect your dignity as a mother. But now, not only are you publicly insulting me—you’re making false accusations about child abuse. Do you have any proof of that?”

Yes, I did—once.

But Ben had already destroyed it, piece by piece.

Seeing my stunned silence, Cassandra’s smirk deepened. She slowly pulled out her phone.

“I have a video of you neglecting Lily. She’s crying because she misses her mommy—and I’m the one trying to comfort her. Want to see it?”

Cassandra pressed play. Lily’s sobbing voice echoed from the phone’s speaker:

“Mommy… I want Mommy…”

Since the screen was angled toward me, I could clearly see what the others could not: Cassandra slapping Lily across the face, over and over.

That was the real reason Lily was crying for me.

But her cries were so loud, they drowned out the sound of the slaps.

“Lily, be a good girl,” Cassandra cooed on screen. “Your mom is busy right now. Auntie made you some mango purée—it’s super sweet. Come on, eat it all up, okay?”

A moment later, Lily’s sobbing ceased—not because she had calmed down, but because her throat was swelling shut.

I clenched my fists so tightly that my nails dug into my palms.

Cassandra knew exactly what she was doing. She knew Lily was severely allergic to mangoes.

Cassandra smugly pocketed her phone. The surrounding crowd, unaware of what the video actually showed, exploded in judgment.

“I’ve never seen a mother so cold-blooded. Working nonstop while her child cries for attention—what kind of woman does that?”

“If this young girl hadn’t been there to console the kid, the poor thing would’ve choked to death on her own tears!”

“Some people are saying she locked her kid in the trunk and left her to die. Honestly, I believe it. She probably wanted to get rid of the girl so she could chase some business deal!”

“This babysitter’s being accused of killing the child, but clearly, the real abuser is the mother. She shouldn’t be allowed to raise a goldfish, let alone a child. Someone should teach her a lesson!”

Fueled by grief and outrage, they pounced.

Slaps rained down on my face. Someone spat at me. Rotten eggs were hurled, exploding against my clothes and skin.

Sharp nails raked across my cheeks and arms, carving deep, bleeding gashes into my flesh.

I staggered under the assault, my vision swimming in pain and humiliation.

Desperately, I looked at Ben. He shifted slightly, but didn’t move to help me.

Cassandra leaned into him, pouting, her voice soft and manipulative.

“Ben, you said you’d always protect me. Shaw’s insults don’t matter to me—but if you step in now, it’s like admitting I’m guilty. What if the school finds out? My whole future will be destroyed. Would you really break your promise for her?”

Finally, Ben turned to me, his tone icy and void of sympathy.

“Serena, you were the one who started all of this by falsely accusing Cassandra. If you refuse to apologize, then you have to accept the consequences.”

I don’t know how long the beating lasted. Eventually, the angry mob tired out and dispersed.

Shaking, bleeding, I dragged myself up from the floor.

Ben stepped toward me and extended his hand.

“Come. I’ll help you clean up.”

I slapped his hand away and hissed,

“Ben, I’m divorcing you. I’m quitting the company. From this moment on, we are nothing but strangers.”

Rage flickered in his eyes.

“You’re leaving me? Serena, is that supposed to be a threat? You’re the one at fault. I’m just trying to make sure Cassandra gets a fair chance!”

I didn’t even look at him.

I gently picked up my daughter’s lifeless body, wiped the smudges from her tiny face, and walked toward the crematorium.

Ben tried to follow, but I spun around and shouted,

“Get out!”

He paused mid-step. Whatever words he had died on his lips as he met my eyes.

I didn’t glance back. I simply walked away.

That night, I sat outside the crematorium alone, listening to the quiet hum of machinery, my tears falling silently.

“Lily… I’m sorry. Mommy didn’t protect you... Mommy failed you...”

The next morning, I arranged for Lily’s urn to be stored temporarily at the funeral home.

I could no longer trust Ben. I had to leave this place. I had to get my mother and Lily far, far away—somewhere no one could hurt us again.

When I stepped outside, Ben and Cassandra were gone.

Lying abandoned on the ground was my phone.

The screen was lit up, showing thirty-six missed calls, all from the nursing home.