Chapter 3
I couldn’t hear a single word anymore.
All I saw were the shattered bisque dolls on the floor.
Like a madwoman, I rushed over, grabbing every broken piece with shaking hands. Blood ran down my fingers, but I felt nothing.
Those three dolls were Nicho’s favorite. We made them together, Gabriel and I, for his third birthday. He once said they were three of us, a happy little family, together forever.
Now Nicho was gone. The dolls were in pieces.
And my family was destroyed.
The grief I’d been holding in for days exploded all over again. I clutched the broken pieces and sobbed like my world had ended.
Gabriel frowned, clearly annoyed. “Stephanie, what the hell’s wrong with you today?”
Clarissa faked concern. “Stephanie, are you remembering something sad?”
“Don’t mind her,” Gabriel said coldly, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “Let her cry. She’s good at that.”
Then they walked upstairs with the twins, just like that.
I stared down at the shards in my arms, the pain inside crashing over me like a tidal wave.
After a long while, I pulled out my phone and dialed.
Chapter 3
“Hello…? I’d like to report something.”
***
Once I hung up, I took one last look around the big, empty house.
This wasn’t my home anymore.
I was ready to leave for good, but a wave of dizziness hit me. I had to sit down and rest.
Half an hour later, I packed up some essentials–my things and what little I had left of Nicho. Then I dragged my suitcase to the door.
Only to run into Clarissa in the corridor.
With Gabriel gone, she dropped the act and stepped in front of me, smirking. “Running away from home, huh? You don’t have to. Sure, there’s no place for you in this family now–but staying as a live–in maid suits you just fine.”
“Get out of my way!” I slapped her hand aside.
I didn’t use much force, but Clarissa suddenly staggered back and fell to the floor with a loud thud.
Behind me, a furious voice roared.
“Stephanie! What the hell are you doing?!”
Gabriel stormed over, his face as dark as thunder.
Clarissa scrambled up, limping toward him. She grabbed his arm and said sweetly, “Gabriel, it’s not her fault. I just lost my balance. She didn’t mean to push me…”
But Gabriel wasn’t listening. His glare was piercing. “Stephanie, do you really have that small of a heart? You just have to go after Clarissa and
Chapter 3
the kids to feel good, is that it?”
I was done arguing.
I grabbed my suitcase and turned to leave.
He stepped in front of me. “Where do you think you’re going?”
I took a deep breath. My voice came out ice–cold. “I’m moving out. I won’t disturb your happy little family of four.”
His expression shifted.
“Can you stop making a scene? So what if a man has a few women? Do you really have to make this into a fight? You walk out now–what, not afraid I’ll hang your son up again?”
I froze.
My son… He actually had the nerve to bring that up?
I stared at him, heart pounding, rage boiling just beneath my skin.
Then he seemed to remember something. His tone turned accusatory. “By the way, where’s Nicho? It’s Saturday–he’s not in school. Where are you hiding him now? First, you hide other people’s kids, now even your own?”
Nicho?
He finally remembered.
But he didn’t know. He’d never see Nicho again!
The thought of my son twisted my insides. Tears welled up and spilled.
“Nicho…” My hand clutched at my chest. My voice broke. “Nicho’s. dead… You left him out there, and he died from the heat…”
Chapter 3
“Bullshit!”
Gabriel’s face turned purple with rage. “Who the hell dies fa little
sun? You expect me to believe that? Cursing your own son just to win a fight–what kind of vicious mother are you?”
I was already crying, not bothering to respond anymore.
I brushed past him, determined to leave.
But he yanked the suitcase out of my hand.
I lunged to take it back, and in the scuffle, a piece of paper fell from my bag.
“What’s this?” Clarissa picked it up and read aloud. “Cremation declaration… Nicholas Marcy,
Gabriel’s face drained of color in an instant.
FAG 13:
