Chapter 3
v shattered.
Every frame that once held my daughter’s face lay
Photos were scattered like debris across the house, some crumpled, others lying face–down in corners.
In the living room, the massive family portrait now hung under a drape of heavy black cloth.
From the hallway, I could see Sabrina rummaging through my daughter’s dresser.
She tossed items aside one by one, calling out toward the kitchen where Ethan was cooking.
“Ethan, why did your daughter like such old–fashioned cartoons? Seriously–such awful taste for a kid. This is all junk”
She flung each “junk” item to the floor without a second thought.
Ethan’s voice floated back, warm and indulgent. “If you don’t like it, throw it out. From now on, everything in that room is yours to decide.”
A dizzy wave rolled over me, but the sting of my nails biting into my palms cut through the haze, pulling me back to focus.
I slammed the front door hard enough to rattle the walls and charged into the bedroom.
The sound jolted them both.
Sabrina turned just in time for me to grab a fistful of her hair and drag her out of the room.
My palm cracked across her face. “You bitch. You think you can just walk into my daughter’s room whenever y The slap left her stunned, but one was nowhere near enough.
I raised my hand again, eyes locked on her.
Before I could bring it down, Ethan caught my wrist and, without hesitation, drove his foot into my stomach. The blow knocked me to the floor.
My back slammed against the corner of a table, and I felt the slow, warm trickle of blood down my spine.
Ethan crouched, one hand stroking Sabrina’s cheek as he yanked me up by my collar with the other.
you please?”
His eyes blazed red. “Vivian, have you lost your mind? You’ve caused Sabrina enough trouble with those videos online–I haven’t even made you apologize yet, and now you’re hitting her? Where’s your damn manners?”
Hot tears streaked down my face as I met his gaze and pointed toward my daughter’s room.
“Our daughter just died, and you let this woman trash her things. You call yourself a father? You watch her stomp on our daughter’s photos, and you don’t feel the slightest shame?”
Something unreadable flickered in his eyes. He glanced toward the shoeprints stamped across the scattered photos and went silent. Before he could speak, Sabrina let out a soft, wounded sound.
“Vivian, I know you’re hurting, but you can’t take it out on Ethan. You were the one who took her to that summer camp. How is this my fault or his?”
Whatever hint of hesitation had been in Ethan’s eyes vanished, replaced with raw cruelty.
He spun back toward me and wrapped his hand around my throat.
“She’s right. You killed our daughter, and you have the nerve to question me? Forget my business–today you’re apologizing to her.”
My vision darkened, my face turning purple under his grip.
T clawed at his hands, biting back the pain until I could force the words out.
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“You shameless pair. I will never apologize. She’s the one who lured you away, and that’s why our daughter died. I won’t just refuse to say sorry I’ll make her pay for it with her life.”
That broke whatever thin thread of restraint he had left.
He slammed my head against the wall, then struck me across the face.
“Vivian Kingsley, I’ve had enough of your family’s strong–arm crap. You won’t bully Sabrina the way you tried bullying me. Your father’s been rotting overseas for years–wake up.”
“A woman like you disgusts me. Get out. Get out of my house.”
With that, he shoved me onto the dining table, then wrapped an arm around Sabrina’s waist and steered her toward the kitchen.
The sight of them pressed together made bile rise in my throat.
I forced myself to stand, gathering what I could of my daughter’s belongings before stumbling toward the door.
Just as I was about to step out, my phone lit up with a message from the number I’d been waiting on.
I fired off a message to Ethan: (Ethan Carrington, tomorrow is our daughter’s funeral. As her father-]
Ethan: [Of course I’ll be there. And I want you to apologize to Sabrina in front of her.]
His answer was all I needed.
I walked out certain of one thing–tomorrow, those two wouldn’t control the script.
Chapter 3
