I lowered my gaze to my abdomen, where the wound had been neatly stitched up. Yet, the emptiness inside me was a cruel reminder—I had been forever stripped of my ability to be a mother.

"Where's Liam?" I asked dully.

Willy's expression darkened with guilt. "He's been sent to the funeral home for cremation. The funeral is tomorrow. Carol, I'm sorry... As a father, I failed to protect our child."

A sharp pain stabbed through my heart, but I didn’t expose his lies.

My eyes drifted to the bedside table, where a delicate box lay. Inside it was a long-life lock.

"Willy, today is Liam's birthday. We haven't bought him a present yet. Let this long-life lock accompany him. I hope he finds longevity and peace in the afterlife, okay?"

Willy’s brows twitched slightly, but he quickly masked his unease with a gentle smile. "Carol, a friend asked me to buy this for his child. How can we take it away from him?"

"It's meant for the living and Liam... he can’t wear it anymore. Besides, this material isn’t worth much. It doesn’t suit our Liam. I’ve already arranged for something more appropriate from the funeral store. Everything will be burned for him—he won’t feel shortchanged in the afterlife."

I didn’t argue, but my heart sank further. Willy had long forgotten that before becoming a housewife, I was a skilled jewelry appraiser. The long-life lock was made of the highest quality jadeite—worth a fortune. Its intricate design was engraved with the words "peace year after year," a symbol of a parent's deepest love.

For two months, I had secretly watched Willy spending countless late nights in his study, meticulously designing this very pattern. I had foolishly believed it was meant for Liam's birthday gift. But in his heart, the ones truly unworthy were my son and me.

Under my insistence, Willy processed my discharge papers and took me home. He refused the nanny’s assistance, personally helping me bathe and wash my hair, carefully avoiding my wound. He even blow-dried my hair with gentle attention—a picture-perfect husband.

Once, I would have been moved by such tenderness. But as I stared at the grotesque scars on my stomach and thought of my son's cruel death, I felt only emptiness. My heart was a barren wasteland.

***

That night, while Willy slept, I crept into his study. Using my laptop, I accessed his cloud drive. The password was Sophia’s birthday.

Inside were tens of thousands of photos and videos, capturing every moment of Sophia’s pregnancy, the birth of their child and his growth over the years. And there, amidst the sea of memories, lay a prepared share transfer agreement.

Fifteen years of marriage—Willy had spent most of it traveling, supposedly for business expansion. But in reality, he had been by Sophia and their child's side all along. I had never once doubted him. How ridiculous.

A notification flickered in the corner of the screen—his WhatsApp was still logged in. A single click opened a chat group pinned at the top: "A Loving Family of Three."

The words burned into my vision. For eighteen years, Willy had showered Sophia and their child with countless lavish gifts.

"Willy, Benny is just a newborn. How can he drive a Maserati? You're spoiling him too much! Ohz and by the way, I adore the sapphire necklace you got me. Mwah!"

"Willy, Benny is three years old today. The island you bought for him is breathtaking! You'll be arriving this afternoon, right? He can't wait to see his daddy."

All that love. All that devotion. Things Little Liam and I never had.

I had once been a rising star in the jewelry industry, but I gave up everything at twenty to marry Willy. I devoted myself to him, endured hardships by his side, sacrificed my body and struggled for years before finally conceiving—only to have him treat it as nothing more than an inconvenience.

I used to think his indifference was meant to ease my burden. I had even been grateful for his so-called understanding. But in the fifteenth year of our marriage, when I finally became pregnant, he had not been overjoyed. He had only forced a smile—a mere formality. And now, everything made sense.

But when I saw the photo of Willy kissing Sophia’s swollen belly, his face glowing with pure joy, I realized the cruel truth—he had already built a family with someone else.

And my Little Treasure? In his eyes, my child was nothing more than an unwanted burden, like an inflamed appendix that needed to be cut away as soon as possible.

No wonder. No wonder that every year on Liam’s birthday, Willy had always made excuses about urgent business trips abroad.

Because his other child’s birthday was only three days after Liam’s. He had to be there early, making sure everything was perfect—making sure his "real" child never felt neglected.

Heartbroken, I exited the page and called my best friend overseas. “I want to work for your company as a jewelry appraiser. I’ll see you in three days.” I also asked her for a few favors.

After finishing, I went to Liam’s room. Everything was still the same—the bedding still in place, his tiny pillow still carrying the faint scent of milk. But Liam would never return to sleep in it again.

Underneath his pillow, I found a small wishing bottle. Inside was a note, written by his teacher, recording his birthday wish.

"The teacher said a man must be brave, so this year, I finally gathered the courage to tell Daddy that I wanted a birthday present. But before I could even finish my sentence, Daddy walked away angrily. Actually, all I wanted was for Daddy to stay with me on my birthday, even just for an hour. Thirty minutes would be fine. I’d be happy… really happy."

Tears blurred my vision. Willy, is this what you saw as ambition? Was a child’s innocent wish truly that unbearable for you?

I printed the divorce papers that night, then clung to Liam’s quilt, breathing in his scent as I sobbed until dawn.

***

The next morning, Willy, despite his usual obsession with cleanliness, personally cleaned my wound, changed my bandages and carefully wrapped them with gauze.

The nanny beside us looked envious of his attentiveness, but my heart was dead inside.

He noticed my swollen, red eyes and sighed, his voice full of pain.

“Carol, I know you miss Liam. I miss him even more than you do. But you need to take care of yourself. I’ve already lost my beloved child—I can’t lose you too. Why don’t you rest at home today? Let me handle Liam’s funeral.”

Leave it to you? Leave it to the very man who orchestrated my child’s murder? I swallowed back my bitter sarcasm and replied in a flat voice, “No need. I have to see Little Treasure off for the last time.”

At the funeral, from a distance, I saw Sophia and a teenage boy standing beside my mother-in-law, supporting her like the perfect daughter-in-law and grandson.

The boy was smiling as he spoke, making her laugh with joy. It was a solemn event, yet Sophia wore a luxurious red designer dress and even the boy was dressed in an eye-catching crimson suit. Unlike the rest of us dressed in mourning black, they stood out like guests at a celebration.

My mother-in-law, completely ignoring the grieving atmosphere, clung to them with obvious favoritism, doting on them as if they were her real family. To shield them from the sun, she even ordered a maid to hold an umbrella over them—as if Sophia were her rightful daughter-in-law and the boy her cherished grandson.

Then Sophia turned to me, curling her lips into a mocking smile. “Auntie, I’m fine under the sun. Carol is here, though. The sun is so harsh—better let her have the umbrella. After all, unlike me, she’s both childless and injured. She needs extra care.”

Hearing this, my mother-in-law sneered, her face twisting with disdain as she looked at me.

"It’s just a dead brat. What’s the big deal? Who are you trying to impress with those grieving eyes? Acting all high and mighty, completely forgetting the dignity of our Nelson Family."

She scoffed before continuing, "Even Sophia and Benny have better manners than you. The moment they landed, they rushed here to support me, bringing me expensive jade bracelets. They’re a thousand times more thoughtful than you, you ungrateful wretch."

She had always despised me. From the very start, she never thought I was good enough for Willy. And when I struggled for over a decade to conceive, she labeled me a useless hen who couldn’t lay eggs.

Later, when I finally had Liam, she hated him too. Because despite his young age, he always stood up for me. And in her eyes, that made him a traitor—an ungrateful child who sided against his own bloodline.

There was a time when Willy would have defended me, at least occasionally. But now, his gaze remained fixed on Sophia, his infatuated expression as if he were admiring the rarest of treasures.

Sophia didn’t even flinch under my stare. Instead, she smiled at me with quiet provocation before turning to my mother-in-law, gently holding her arm.

“Auntie, you mustn’t get upset at your age. If you don’t mind, from now on, let Benny be your grandson.”

Grandmother’s expression instantly brightened, her previous scorn toward me replaced by pure delight as she showered Sophia with praises for her thoughtfulness.

Sophia then pulled the teenage boy beside her forward, her smile never faltering. “It’s been a while, Carol. My apologies—we only just flew in from overseas and didn’t have time to change. But you’re so magnanimous, I’m sure you won’t mind, right?”

She then turned to the boy beside her. “By the way, this is my son, Benny Nelson.”

The boy, a striking resemblance to Willy with about five or six shared features, looked me up and down with open disdain before smirking arrogantly. “Auntie, you’re so ugly.”

Before I could react, he turned to Willy and held out his hand expectantly. “Dad, you promised me a gift when Mom and I returned to Chicago. The day after tomorrow is my eighteenth birthday. Last year, you only gave me ninety-nine presents—this year, I want a hundred.”

His words, his deliberate humiliation, burned like acid. But Willy ignored my presence, his attention solely on the boy as he helplessly chuckled and ruffled his hair. “Got it.”

With that, he pulled out a long-life lock—the same one I had painstakingly believed was meant for my Liam—and gently fastened it around Benny’s neck with an expression full of love and pride. But that wasn’t enough. Willy snapped his fingers and outside the funeral home, a dozen sports cars—each painted in vibrant, blinding colors—rolled into view.

“Here,” Willy said, grinning indulgently. “Dad knows you like bright colors. These are all yours.”

Sophia pouted playfully, clinging to Willy’s arm. “Willy, what about me? You can’t just spoil your son.”

Willy chuckled, gently tapping her nose. “Of course, I haven’t forgotten you.”

At his signal, two attendants stepped forward from each car, carrying more than thirty sets of exquisite jewelry. The collection varied in style and material, but they all had one thing in common—they were priceless.

One particular set caught my eye. It was a piece once worn by a royal consort from an ancient dynasty, something so rare and historical that its worth was incalculable.

Sophia gasped in delight, throwing her arms around Willy’s neck and pressing a kiss to his cheek. She beamed like a young girl, her excitement unrestrained. “Wow! Aren’t these the pieces from that European royal auction a few days ago? Even the cheapest set would cost hundreds of millions. Willy, you bought them all for me? You still love us so much. But spending so much money—Carol won’t be mad, right?”

I clenched my fists as my son’s funeral transformed into a grotesque showcase of luxury cars and jewelry.

I stood there in my outdated black mourning suit, my face bare of makeup, my swollen eyes betraying nights of grief. Beside me, Sophia sparkled—her designer red dress flawless, her makeup exquisite, her presence dazzling.

The absurdity of it all nearly made me laugh.

Over the years, what had Willy ever given to Liam? Compared to just one of Benny’s sports cars, my son had received next to nothing. How ridiculous.

Willy seemed to remember I was still there. His expression turned slightly awkward as he tried to explain, “Carol, don’t take this the wrong way. Sophia and Benny have been living abroad for so long—this is just the way they are.”

“You heard it too, didn’t you? Mom has already acknowledged Benny as her grandson. It’s natural for him to call me ‘Dad.’ He’s about to celebrate his birthday and I just wanted to show some affection. As for the lock…”

Before he could finish, Sophia suddenly stumbled, swaying dramatically as she collapsed into his arms. “Willy, my head… I feel so dizzy… I think I might have heatstroke.”

Willy immediately turned his back to me, his full attention on her. “How could that happen? I built that summer resort just for you, so you wouldn’t suffer in the heat. You should’ve been resting there, but you insisted on coming to this miserable place. Come on, I’ll take you somewhere to rest.”

And just like that, without so much as a glance at the urn containing his son’s ashes, he scooped Sophia up in his arms and walked away.