: Luo Luo Is Dead

After I married Nathan Hawthorne while pregnant, he avoided me like the plague.

The day our daughter was sick, Nathan Hawthorne was celebrating his first love's daughter's birthday.

My daughter and his first love's daughter were trapped in a blazing fire!

My daughter was burned alive.

But his first love's daughter clung to Nathan Hawthorne's leg the moment she was saved.

"Daddy, I was so scared I'd never see you again!"

His first love told her not to say such things, but her eyes were filled with triumph.

1

My daughter, Lola, was dead.

She and Lena Thorne's daughter, Anya, were trapped in the fire. The man who should have been her protector—her father—saved the other little girl instead.

I numbly held Lola's body, which was burned beyond recognition, while Nathan Hawthorne stood coldly to the side.

"Daddy, I'm so scared..."

The little girl's terrified, childish voice rang out. In the corner of my eye, I saw Anya throw herself into Nathan Hawthorne's arms.

As she whimpered, Nathan Hawthorne held her and gently soothed her.

He truly looked like a loving father in that moment.

Lena Thorne shot me a glance, unable to hide the triumph in her eyes, even as she put on a show of gently scolding her daughter. "Anya, you mustn't call him that!"

Anya buried her face in Nathan Hawthorne's embrace, her muffled sobs making it impossible to tell if she was crying or trying to speak.

I had no tears left to cry.

Clutching Lola's charred remains, I stumbled out of the house.

Five years ago, someone drugged Nathan Hawthorne and sent him to my room. I had been drugged as well and was powerless to resist. After that one night, I became pregnant.

The day I received the positive pregnancy test, both our families found out. They forced Nathan Hawthorne and me to marry, threatening to kill themselves if we didn't. But after we were married, he avoided me like the plague. He didn't even show up the day Lola was born.

I had confronted him hysterically, but he just stared at me, his face a cold, emotionless mask.

"Did you really expect to find happiness in a marriage you schemed for with drugs?"

"But I was..."

"Genevieve Sinclair, you don't deserve it."

He wouldn't listen to my explanation. He never believed me.

Back when we were in school, if Lena Thorne so much as told him I'd said a single word to another male classmate, he would fly into a rage, accuse me, and then give me the silent treatment.

'But Nathan Hawthorne, Lena Thorne is your one true love. Why wouldn't you let me have anything to do with anyone else?'

'You obviously cared about me, so why did you refuse to ever like me?'

'And I was drugged that night, too.'

At some point, it had started to rain. I held Lola and walked numbly through it.

People were pointing and whispering. Their voices sounded distant, laced with a morbid excitement.

"She's the one whose daughter burned to death, right?"

"I heard she trapped her husband by getting pregnant, forcing him to break up with his first love. What goes around, comes around."

"If you ask me, homewreckers never get a happy ending..."

'I didn't. I didn't do it.'

I thought I had no tears left, but my face was still wet. I couldn't tell if it was from the rain or from my crying.

'I never wanted to break up Nathan Hawthorne and Lena Thorne.'

I tried to explain, but Nathan Hawthorne wouldn't believe me.

After marrying into the Hawthorne Family, I always did my duty. I tried my best to be a good wife and never once slacked off.

I never even cried or threw a tantrum when he and Lena Thorne were seen together in public.

I knew he didn't love me; I only hoped he would show some affection for Lola.

But when Lola was sick a short while ago, she stared at the door with innocent eyes. "Mama, Daddy will come see me this time, won't he?"

Her words felt like a knife twisting in my heart.

I called Nathan Hawthorne, only to find he was celebrating Lena Thorne's daughter's birthday.

For the first time ever, I screamed at him, telling him he must be blind to treat someone else's daughter like the apple of his eye. It was only today that I learned Anya calls him "Daddy."

'Of course. How could the daughter of a woman he loathes possibly compare to the precious child born from his one true love?'

"Stop!"

A cold bark came from behind me. Nathan Hawthorne caught up, his face grim. "Look at you, all disheveled. Haven't you caused enough of a scene?"

'At a time like this, he's worried about me embarrassing him?'

'Nathan Hawthorne, do you even have a heart?'

"Nathan Hawthorne."

I called his name softly, my gaze calm.

"You no longer have any right to tell me what to do. Not anymore."

2

I've been hiding in my room, clutching Lola's toys. I haven't slept in two days and two nights.

I don't dare close my eyes.

Whenever I close my eyes, I see Lola's face.

She'd call me "Mommy" in her sweet, childish voice. When I was sad, she'd lift her little hands and stroke my face over and over.

She'd hide in my arms and try to cheer me up.

She'd give me the sweetest part of the watermelon to eat first.

When she knew I was scared of the thunder during a storm, she'd drag her stuffed bunny onto my bed to sleep with me.

At preschool, all the other kids had their dads with them for sports day.

Nathan Hawthorne never showed up, not even once.

The other kids would chase after her, taunting, "Lola's a kid her daddy doesn't want! Nobody wants her!"

Lola would cry her eyes out, just sobbing miserably.

She'd hide somewhere dark, and when she had cried herself out, she'd greet me with a smile.

She'd wrap her little arms around my neck and nuzzle against me.

She'd say, "Mommy, you work so hard."

But she never once asked me why her dad didn't come for her.

My sweet Lola is gone now.

She'll never be a part of my life again.

The only light in my life has vanished.

It feels like my heart has been ripped open. Every breath I take is painful.

After the fire that day, I asked Nathan Hawthorne for a divorce.

He shot me a glare and barked, "Nonsense."

He dragged me home, called my parents, and then disappeared.

Heh. I know he must have gone to be with Lena Thorne and her daughter.

Before, I might have been hurt. But now...

I looked down at the scar on my wrist.

I did it to myself the day Lola died.

It hurt a lot. I bled so much, but I didn't die.

How ridiculous. A wound heals and leaves a scar.

My heart has been hurt by Nathan Hawthorne so many times that it's already covered in a thick layer of scars. It can't even feel pain anymore.

The light in the dim room was switched on.

It was blinding. I buried my face in my knees, not wanting to face whoever had come in.

"Genevieve Sinclair, have you made enough of a scene?"

Nathan Hawthorne gripped my wrist tightly. My limbs were completely limp, and he easily dragged me up from the floor.

"Heh, not eating or drinking for two days... Genevieve Sinclair, if you want to die, don't do it in my house."

I tilted my head to look at Nathan Hawthorne.

His face was ashen, his gaze ferocious, as if he wanted to flay me alive.

'I just don't understand. If he hates me this much, why won't he let me go?'

"Nathan Hawthorne, let's get a divorce."

I asked for a divorce again. 'I truly wish Nathan Hawthorne would just let me go.'

He squeezed my wrist, his grip so tight it was agonizing. His face darkened as he let out a cold snort.

"You want me to let you go? Dream on."

With that, he dragged me out and threw me onto the sofa.

I was just like Lola's little stuffed bunny, carelessly tossed into a corner.

Nathan Hawthorne didn't even want to look at me.

The elders of the family gathered around me, all starting to talk at once.

"Genevieve, have something to eat. You haven't eaten in days. You've gotten so much thinner."

Mrs. Hawthorne held a bowl of congee to my lips. When I smelled the fishy scent of the slices inside, I turned my head away.

3

"Fine, don't eat then." My mother sat down beside me in a huff, poking me hard on the head.

"You're a grown woman. How can you still be so thoughtless?"

My mother launched into a nonstop lecture.

"Lola is gone, and we're all heartbroken. It's not like you're the only one who's sad."

"Just because she's gone, does that mean the rest of us should just stop living?"

"And you even have the nerve to ask Nathan for a divorce."

My mother, in a gesture of pure frustration, gave my arm another light squeeze.

"Do you have any idea how many women would kill to marry Nathan? Have you lost your mind?"

Mrs. Hawthorne chimed in from the side.

"That's right, Genevieve. You're still young. Once you've recovered, you can have more children."

As she spoke, the corners of her mouth turned up slightly.

"This time, we'll have a boy. Mr. Hawthorne and I have been wanting a grandson for a long time."

Mrs. Hawthorne looked up and shot my mother a look. The two of them shared a knowing smile.

'How ridiculous.'

When I first married into a wealthy family, the entire Hawthorne clan looked down on me, scorning me.

In their eyes, I was just a social-climbing nobody who had schemed her way to the top.

On my first day in the Hawthorne home, I was already pregnant with Lola.

I stood in the enormous living room while Mrs. Hawthorne sat on a leather sofa, sipping her afternoon tea with her pinky delicately raised.

After a few sips, she slowly set her teacup down on the table.

"You must be Genevieve Sinclair."

She looked up and glanced at me.

I took a deep, nervous breath, tightly clutching the hem of my dress.

I nodded.

Mrs. Hawthorne's disdainful gaze swept over me from head to toe before she scoffed.

"A girl from an ordinary family... so uncouth. Sigh. If it weren't for..."

Her eyes flickered to my stomach, and she swallowed the rest of her sentence.

Mrs. Hawthorne waved her hand dismissively. "You can go rest for now. From now on, you'll be obedient here in the Hawthorne family. Don't interfere in Nathan's affairs."

I never forgot what Mrs. Hawthorne said.

In the five years I've been married to Nathan Hawthorne, I never dared to ask where he was going or what he was doing.

After marrying him, I gave up my greatest passion, painting, to obediently stay home and be Nathan Hawthorne's wife and a good mother to Lola.

In the middle of the night, I would often find myself thinking about my dream.

My dream was to have my own art exhibition.

But the Hawthornes would never let me make a public appearance like that.

I'd feel a surge of resentment at times, but then I would see Lola's adorable little face, and I'd bury those feelings deep inside.

Later, when Lola got a little older,

I would often teach her how to draw at home.

I drew little birds for her, flowers, the blue sky.

Sometimes, I would even draw little stories for her, binding them into small booklets.

Lola would take them to kindergarten to share with her friends.

Before long, my stories became a huge hit at her kindergarten.

Lola would come home and pester me to draw more stories for her. Each time, she would look up at me, her little face beaming, and sweetly take my hand.

"Mommy, you're amazing! All my friends love your drawings and the stories you write."

"You're the most popular mom in kindergarten now."

"Mommy, you're my pride and joy."

She would hug my arm tightly, and my heart would burn with a warmth she ignited.

All the coldness I received from Nathan Hawthorne was melted away by Lola's warmth.

I would hold Lola and sigh to myself.

'It doesn't matter if I never have Nathan Hawthorne's love. As long as I have Lola, I'll be fine.'

But now, sitting on the sofa, I clutched Lola's little stuffed rabbit.

The little rabbit still carried Lola's scent.

But my daughter was never coming back.