The grand hall of the Holloway Estate had been redecorated.

The family portrait my mother had hung on the wall was gone, replaced by a large framed portrait of Vivian. The long dining table was draped with a new tablecloth, and in the center sat a three-tier fondant cake, the words "Welcome Vivian to Our Family" piped in gold icing.

I had brought what I needed: the signed divorce papers and the USB drive.

More than forty guests filled the hall — practically every prominent family in Ashton was represented.

When I walked in, no one looked at me.

Not until I reached the center of the hall did anyone notice — because I was blocking the projection screen.

Ethan sat at the head of the table. Vivian sat to his right. Lily was on Vivian's lap.

The three of them shared a matching set of white-and-gold bone china place settings.

My seat was at the far end of the table. My plate was one of the estate's old dishes.

"You came."

Ethan glanced at me.

"Why didn't you cover those marks on your face? Go fix your makeup before coming back out."

I didn't move.

"Did you prepare your speech?"

"I did."

I had. But the content wasn't what he had in mind.

In the western corner of the hall stood a mahogany stand. It had once held my mother's cello.

That cello was an antique from 1897 — my mother's most treasured possession. On her deathbed, she held my hand and said: "Keep this cello for me. Whenever you miss me, just touch it."

The stand was empty now.

A workman crouched beside it, hammer in hand. The cello had been taken apart. The neck was snapped in two, the body split by a long crack, and of the four strings, three were broken, scattered across the floor.

Vivian sat in a nearby chair, legs crossed, a glass of red wine in her hand.

"Ethan, don't you think the sound of the strings snapping is satisfying? Better than any sound machine."

Ethan cracked a smile.

"If you like it, listen to a few more."

I turned around and saw a worker taking down my mother's painting.

I lunged forward.

I snatched the cello body from the workman's hands. Splinters of wood dug into my palm.

"This was my mother's! How dare you touch it!"

I collapsed onto the pile of wood shards. My knees came down on the broken strings, and the metal wire cut through my pants and bit into my skin.

Forty-some people watched. Not one stood up.

I knelt on the floor. Wood splinters and broken cello strings under my knees. Blood on my forehead, blood from my left ear, three puncture wounds on my palm from the shattered wood.

A sound scraped its way out of my broken chest — something between a laugh and a death rattle.

I pulled out the divorce papers and flung them in Ethan's face. The pages struck his nose, bounced off, and drifted to the floor.

"Your love isn't worth the dirt on my shoes, Ethan Sterling. Even a stray dog wouldn't touch it."

He hadn't recovered when I made my move.

The AV control panel in the center of the hall was two steps away, connected to the projection screen.

I plugged in the USB drive.

Ethan's voice poured from the speakers, filling every corner of the hall —

"Ethan, I’m so scared… She’s been accusing me, saying I killed her brother—how could she say that? I would never hurt anyone, let alone him."

"I know, Vivian. I’ve heard her ranting. Don’t take it to heart—she’s just grief-stricken and lashing out. "

"But what if she won't let it go?"

"What can she do? A washed-up nobody who quit medicine ten years ago. No license, no family left. There's nothing she can do."

The hall erupted. Chairs toppled. Wine glasses shattered. Whispers exploded into crosstalk. Every eye in the room locked onto Vivian and Ethan.

The color drained from Ethan's face.

I stepped back, turned, and ran for the staircase at the far end of the hall.

Second floor. Third floor.

The terrace door on the third floor was unlocked. I shoved it open and ran to the edge.

Night wind rushed in, lifting the dried blood on my forehead.

Ethan reached the terrace doorway, chest heaving, both hands braced against the frame.

"Get down from there!It's all just a misunderstanding！"

I stood at the edge of the terrace. My heels hung over empty air, the balls of my feet balanced on the top of the stone railing.

Below was the estate's backyard, bordering the river.

I looked down at him.

"You threw away a diamond and picked up trash. That's all you've ever been good at, Ethan Sterling."

His hands slid from the doorframe.

"You can have this life back. You two deserve each other. Enjoy your happily ever after."

I let go and let my body fall.