Chapter 2

1

When I heard the news of Louis's death, I was busy cooking for Silas and Sienna.

The phone slipped from my hand as my fingers trembled. In my daze, I accidentally splashed hot oil onto the back of my hand.

A searing pain flared up instantly, but it was nothing compared to the agony in my chest.

My vision went black, and I lost consciousness.

When I woke up, I was lying in a hospital bed. Sienna was beside me, her eyes red from crying.

I grabbed her hand and asked desperately, "Is it true about your father? Please tell me it's just a sick joke."

"How could he be in a car accident? I was just on the phone with him a moment ago."

Sienna remained silent for a long time after hearing my words.

She pulled her hand away, checked her phone, and said coldly, "Mom, you knew Dad was driving. Why did you call him?"

Looking at my daughter's stern expression, a wave of grief washed over me.

Thinking about the thirty years I spent with Louis, I couldn't help but burst into tears. Sienna stood there without moving.

After a while, she handed me a tissue and said, "Whatever. The most important thing now is Dad's funeral."

I held her hand, too choked up to speak. When I finally found the strength to stand, I caught a glimpse of disgust and hatred in her eyes.

I froze, unable to understand why she was looking at me that way.

But when I looked again, her eyes were filled with tears. I thought maybe I was just old and seeing things.

Sienna and I went home, where my son, Silas, was already sitting on the sofa. Like us, his eyes were bloodshot and he looked devastated.

I looked at the family photo on the coffee table and began to cry again.

Louis was always a serious man who rarely smiled. But in this photo, he had a rare, gentle smile on his face.

I always believed he was a man who was cold on the outside but warm on the inside. Everyone said he was a perfect husband and father.

Thinking about this made the pain even sharper.

I had been with Louis since I was eighteen. We married right after college.

This was our thirtieth year together. I thought we would grow old and gray together. I never expected to become a widow in middle age.

I clutched my chest, feeling a suffocating pressure as if my heart were being torn apart. Part of me wanted to follow him into the grave.

But looking at my grieving children, my heart ached for them. If I left too, what would happen to them?

I had lost a husband, but they had lost a father.

I sat weakly on the sofa. Silas didn't look at me once. He was busy whispering with Sienna about the funeral arrangements.

I was too distracted by memories of Louis to pay much attention to their conversation.

When they started discussing where to bury him, I finally spoke up. "Bury your father where we first met. When I die, I want to be buried there with him."

Hearing this, Silas and Sienna looked at each other and shouted in unison, "No!"