The room fell into a heavy silence for a moment before Michael snapped out of his shock and rushed over to Allison. I couldn’t take it any longer. I turned and headed upstairs, ignoring Michael’s angry shouts and desperate calls.

Once I was in my room, I locked the door behind me and sank down onto the floor, burying my face in my hands.

Everything felt overwhelming and exhausting. I crawled to my bed, too drained to change out of my dress or wipe off my makeup, and tried to sleep.

The next morning, I came out of my room to find Allison sitting at the dining table. Michael was fussing over her, serving her a plate of what looked like a gourmet breakfast.

He didn’t even seem to notice my tear-streaked, swollen face.

I took a seat across from them, and Allison finally glanced my way with a faux-innocent expression. “Emma, you’re up. I stayed the night because Michael said I needed to rest. But don’t worry, I stayed in the guest room,” she said with a pitiful tone that made my skin crawl. I knew all too well what she was up to.

“No need to explain yourself, Allison,” Michael said abruptly.

Then, turning to me, he added, “You slapped Allison yesterday. Apologize now if you have any decency left.”

I rolled my eyes in disbelief. I couldn’t believe he was making this the issue first thing in the morning.

“No, really, Michael. I’m sure Emma is sorry for what happened. You don’t need to make her apologize to me,” Allison interjected, her Bambi eyes looking up at Michael with feigned innocence.

“Stop being nice to her. She doesn’t deserve it,” Michael snapped back.

I ignored their petty arguments and focused on serving myself some food. It had been a rough day yesterday, and I hadn’t even managed to have dinner.

Seeing my indifference, Michael’s frustration boiled over. He stormed over to me, yanked my arm, and dragged me roughly to stand beside Allison. My spoon clattered to the floor, and I felt a surge of annoyance.

“What the hell are you doing?” I shot him a furious glare.

“I said apologize to her!” Michael snapped, his voice cold and commanding. The room fell silent, the tension palpable.

I clenched my teeth, my voice trembling with anger, “And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll make you,” he said, pushing me roughly so that I fell to my knees on the floor.

He pinned my shoulder down, and I struggled to get up, but his strength was too much for me, especially now when I was physically and emotionally drained. Some maids approached, clearly concerned, but Michael’s roar sent them fleeing.

“I told you to apologize three times, and you’ve acted like a spoiled brat, ignoring me,” he growled. “Now, Allison, give her a taste of her own medicine. Slap her, just like she did to you!”

I was stunned. Michael’s demand was a punch to the gut. As I looked at his harsh, unfeeling face, the image I had of him for so many years shattered.

The man who used to stand up for me, who I had once loved deeply, was gone. Now, he was just a stranger—one who was asking another woman to slap his wife.

The protective and caring version of him that I fell for had long since vanished. In fact, I couldn’t even remember the last time he’d shown me any kindness after we were married.

It was clear that Allison had played a significant role in changing him, but I couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he started to despise me so thoroughly.

After Michael’s harsh command, Allison finally slapped me across the face. The force of it made my head spin, and I ended up trying to steady myself with my hands on the floor.

But before I could even react, I heard Allison’s sobs.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she choked out, “I… I slapped my best friend. What kind of person am I?” She buried her face in her hands, and Michael rushed over to comfort her, wrapping her in a hug.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry. You’re too softhearted. It’s okay,” he said soothingly.

I stared in disbelief. I had learned the hard way how two-faced Allison could be, but this act of hers was something else entirely.

She had just slapped me, and now she was putting on a performance, crying and playing the victim. It was a new low, even for her.

I was on the verge of storming out, unable to stand being around them any longer. But before I could make my move, Michael grabbed my hand.

“Let me go!” I said, my voice cracking as tears started to well up in my eyes.

“Is this your new trick? Crying now?” Michael’s tone was dripping with provocation. “You failed to use Lily to threaten me, so now you’re just shedding fake tears?”

My chest tightened, anger rising like a wave. How dare he? How could he stand there, throwing accusations like that after everything? I wrenched my hand away from his grip, my voice shaking with rage. “Shut up! You don’t get to mention her name!”

Michael’s expression shifted to confusion and then anger. “Where is she? I haven’t seen Lily since yesterday!” he demanded, his gaze darting toward Lily’s room.

“Oh, so you’re just now noticing?” I snapped, rolling my eyes in frustration.

“You crazy woman! Where is she?” Michael’s voice rose in panic as he looked toward the direction of Lily’s room.

“I told you, she’s gone,” I said firmly.

Michael’s frustration reached a boiling point. He grabbed a maid and ordered her to bring Lily downstairs, but the maid just stood there, frozen, unable to meet his gaze.

Seeing that the maid wasn’t moving, Michael’s anger escalated. He stormed upstairs himself, searching Lily’s room. When he found it empty, with her things packed away as I had instructed, his face turned pale with shock.

“Where… Where’s she? Where’s Lily? Why is all her stuff gone?” he stammered, grabbing another nearby maid and shaking her for answers. The maid, clearly new and frightened, remained silent, unable to intervene in the family drama.

“Stop it! Let her go! She’s not going to answer you!” I yelled, my voice trembling with frustration. Michael’s gaze snapped back to me as he stormed down the stairs, his anger evident in every step he took.

“What’s this about? Where are her things? Where did you put her?” Michael demanded, looking more and more agitated.

I gave him a blank stare. Before I could say anything, Allison piped up, “Emma, you’re going too far. Don’t take Lily away from her father.”

The hypocrisy in her tone made me chuckle despite the situation. “Oh, please. Look at you, pretending to be all concerned. If you’re so eager to find her, go ahead and look yourself!”

Michael’s face reddened with anger. “Why are you only asking about her now? Where were you last week? Or yesterday? Where have you been her whole life?” I shot back, but he just pulled out his phone.

“My daughter is missing,” he barked into the phone. “Find out where she is now!” I crossed my arms and took a seat, trying to ignore the tension that was thick in the air. Michael paced the room while Allison glanced back and forth between us, clearly uncomfortable.

After a few minutes, Michael’s phone rang again.

He raised his phone to his ear, there was a voice coming from the other side of the phone, "Sir, your daughter died on her birthday due to an allergic reaction to nuts."

His eyes darted to mine, filled with horror and confusion. “No… No, that can’t be true. That’s… impossible,” he muttered, his voice barely audible now.

"It’s true," The person on the phone insisted, "Someone deliberately killed your daughter. The relevant evidence and suspect information have been sent to your email, please check."