“No, it was her own choice.” I managed to gasp, the words raw and strained.
Scarlett cried out, throwing herself forward to clutch Andrew’s leg. “Andrew! I’m so scared! Evie suddenly said she would make me pay, that she would push me off!”
The butler, Mr. Finch, rushed in at the sound, desperately pulling at Andrew’s arm. “Sir! Sir, calm down! Miss Scarlett is unharmed!”
I clutched my throat, my voice hoarse. “The security… the security footage…”
“Enough!” Andrew bellowed. “I saw you standing behind her with my own eyes! My mother was killed by your father in the very same way!” He wouldn’t even listen
to an explanation.
It was always like this. Three years ago, it was like this, and now it was like this again. He would always only believe the truth he decided upon, never giving anyone else a chance to speak. But the cruelest irony was this: If he hated me so much, why wouldn’t he let me go? My mother was dead, I had endured endless humiliation for three years, and I had even lost our child. Wasn’t all that enough? Did I have to die to repay his mother’s life?
Andrew finally calmed down after hearing Mr. Finch’s voice. He left, holding Scarlett, with a chilling “Be careful” for me. After his footsteps completely faded down the hallway, the old butler dared to step forward and help me, where I was slumped on the floor.
“Madam, please don’t blame the master. He just… he doesn’t recognize his own heart!” The butler’s voice was filled with a poignant sadness. “All these years, every- one at the estate has seen it. The master’s study drawer still holds the gifts you gave him, the jasmine scent you love is replenished precisely on time every month, and your favorite foods…”
Doesn’t recognize his own heart? I remembered Andrew’s furious eyes as he choked me. I remembered Scarlett’s triumphant smile as she wore my mother’s locket. I remembered the moans from my phone, the night our unborn child turned to blood.
Enough. Three years of enduring, of conceding, of pain–it was all enough. I pulled my arm from the butler’s grasp and walked towards the bedroom.
The next moming, I opened my eyes. My phone screen lit up, a text from Attorney Miller. I stared at it for three seconds, then, with a faint, detached smile, I opened
my contacts.
“Andrew Hayes, I need to see you.”
This time, I would not hesitate, I would not be soft-hearted. Either we would go to hell together. Or I would personally tear apart the lies of these past three years.
My phone screen lit up, Andrew’s name flashing. “3 PM, Northwood Studios, Stage 7. Kneel and apologize to Scarlett, or you’ll never see your mother’s ashes again.”
Scarlett had a new project recently, so Andrew must have been staying with her. As I pushed open the heavy, soundproof studio door, I found the entire set deserted. Suddenly, the clang of an iron door closing echoed behind me. Three men in crew uniforms emerged from the shadows.
14rs Hayes, isn’t it? Someone wants us to add a little extra scene for you.”
