My five-year-old daughter, Cora Hall, got a call from Oliver Hall and ran off to find him on her own.

Little did she know, no one at the house would open the door for her.

It was a typhoon day, and she stood waiting outside in the rain.

By the time I got there, Cora was crying her eyes out, clutching her chest.

She looked up at me and asked, "Mommy, does Daddy not like me? Have I been bad? Why won't Daddy see me?"

Before she could finish, her heart condition flared up and she was gone.

I fell to my knees at the doorstep, holding Cora's cooling body, and broke down sobbing.

Just then, my phone rang.

It was Selah Guthrie, Oliver's first love.

She said, "I'm so sorry, Amber. I just wanted to treat Cora to a nice meal.

"Oliver said he suddenly felt like going to Woiddiff. Why don't you send Cora here to have dinner with us?"

I was so angry I couldn't speak.

Hearing Oliver and Selah's laughter on the other end of the line, I finally found my voice.

I said, "Tell Oliver you two can go ahead with the wedding next month. I don't deserve him."

...

I didn't tell Oliver about Cora's death.

I knew he wouldn't care.

So, I chose to send her off alone, not wanting him to disturb her peace.

My only wish was for Cora to have a healthy body in her next life.

I hoped she'd meet better parents.

I prayed she wouldn't run into me or Oliver again.

Back home, I started packing up Cora's things. As I stared blankly at her teddy bear, tears began to fall.

Just a few days ago, I'd happily told her, "Mommy's going to marry Daddy next month. You can see him every day."

Who could have imagined it would turn out like this?

"Selah, I'm home. Let's talk later. I'll pick you up in a bit," came Oliver's voice from outside.

The phone was on speaker, and I could hear Selah's voice clear as day. It grated on my ears.

Oliver was always honest about it.

Whether it was phone calls or going out with Selah, he never hid it from me.

This place I thought of as home probably didn't even qualify as a hotel in his eyes.

He came in, took off his coat, and collapsed on the sofa.

He looked exhausted.

"I'm beat. Draw me a bath, and bring my usual whiskey on the rocks to the bathroom," he ordered me out of habit.

In the past, I would have done it without a second thought.

The usually suave and calculating Oliver often showed this lazy side to me.

I used to think I was his safe harbor. Now I realized I was just convenient.

"Do it yourself," I said coldly, continuing to pack Cora's things.

He grunted in surprise and sat up to look at me.

He said, "What's your problem now? Is it because I didn't have dinner with Cora the other day? Isn't that a bit much?"

No, it wasn't too much.

Cora and I were worthless to him.

I cursed myself for not seeing it sooner, for still having hopes.

He continued, "Cora's just a kid, she doesn't know any better. But you shouldn't make a fuss.

"Look, I brought you a silk scarf from Woiddiff."

Oliver was still the same, slapping me and giving me a sugar cube.

But Cora's death had finally opened my eyes.

He handed me the scarf. It was blood red, glaringly bright.

Ironically, that was Selah's favorite color.

But for me, it was the color I hated most.

Cora had a congenital heart condition, and the sight of red always terrified me.

"Get that stupid scarf out of my face!" I snapped.

Oliver clearly hadn't expected me to be so angry.

He frowned and said, "If you don't like it, fine, but there's no need to make such a fuss.

"If it's because of Cora, I'll arrange for dinner tomorrow or the day after. That work for you?"

He tossed the scarf and its box onto the floor.

To him, even a half-hearted gift was nothing more than trash.

I said, "Oliver, have you ever noticed that Cora isn't here? Don't you wonder where she's gone?"

He waved his hand dismissively and lay back down.

He said, "If she's not home, she's at the hospital. I've visited her there before."

He didn't care at all.

I'd misjudged him. That was on me.

I said, "Oliver, next month, go ahead and marry Selah. I'm done."

His face darkened, and his voice turned cold with a hint of threat.

He grunted, "Amber, my patience has its limits.

"If you keep this up, don't blame me for sending Cora abroad for treatment.

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing. Ever since Cora came along, you've used every excuse to tie me down.

"Cora is a child, not some tool for you to manipulate."

He tugged at his tie, threw open the door, and stormed out.

And once again, it was like this.

He knew Cora was just a kid.

But I was her mother who wished nothing but the best for her.

To everyone else, Oliver could be polite, refined even. But with me, he was a bully.

He used Cora to threaten me, to make me back down, to force an apology, and to beg for his forgiveness.

Not this time.

I packed Cora's things, and without a backward glance, I left.

It was funny. I know Woiddiff better than Selah ever could.

After all, it was where Oliver and I first met.

Back when I was studying art and design there.

Supplies were expensive. I barely got by sketching portraits for tourists on the streets of Woiddiff.

One evening, as I was about to pack up and head home, Oliver appeared.

He looked scruffy, but even then, his good looks were hard to miss.

I had noticed him before.

He'd been watching me as I painted, stealing glances for quite a while, though I pretended not to see.

Finally, as I was closing up, he walked over.

He said, "Hey, you're from Clens too, right? I got robbed, and now I don't have any money. If you could..."

I stared at him, full of doubt.

He grew more flustered, not knowing what to do with his hands.

He said, "I'm really sorry. I'm not a scammer, I swear. I heard you speaking the Clens language just now. That's why I approached you. I'll leave right now, sorry."

His awkward, helpless look made me laugh.

He took a few steps away but then circled back.

"Seriously, I'm not a scammer," he insisted. "And also, um, you're really beautiful. I mean, uh, I just wanted to remind you. There are pickpockets everywhere. Be careful."

His face flushed red before he even finished his sentence, and he spun around, hurrying off.

Woiddiff at sunset was breathtaking.

He disappeared into the fading light, and for some reason, my heart skipped a beat.

On a whim, I called after him.

I said, "My name's Amber Barnes. Nice to meet you."