Chapter 3

3

"No, baby. Daddy is just... very busy." I lied to her, but my heart was screaming in pain.

Daisy lay in my arms, but her eyes were starting to lose their focus.

"Mommy's lying. I heard Jayden on the phone."

Her voice became a faint whisper. "Daddy doesn't love me. And he doesn't love you either, Mommy."

"Mommy, don't love him anymore, okay?"

I felt like thousands of needles were piercing my soul. My three-year-old saw the truth that I had spent years trying to ignore.

I remembered the first time I met Hudson. He was a volunteer teacher back then, so kind and gentle.

I was just an ordinary girl who fell for him instantly. Our backgrounds were worlds apart―he came from money, and I had nothing.

When he proposed, I almost didn't believe it. I didn't think I was good enough for his world.

But he told me he loved me. He insisted on the marriage.

I worked myself to the bone to prove I was worthy of him. I built a career just so I could give him the life he deserved.

Now, looking back, I realized how much of a fool I had been.

Suddenly, Daisy gripped my shirt. Her lips turned blue.

"Mommy, I'm cold. I want to go to sleep. Remember to wake me up for preschool tomorrow. I have to see the robot Tommy's dad bought him."

Before I could answer, her eyes closed. She stopped breathing.

The monitors in the room exploded into a deafening whine. Doctors and nurses rushed in, but it was over.

"No! Daisy, wake up! Don't sleep yet!"

"You can't leave me! Please!"

I held her limp body and screamed until my throat was raw.

She was only three. She should have been playing with dolls, not lying dead because her father was too busy with another woman.

When the funeral home staff took her, she was still clutching a piece of my shirt.

They told me that kind of grip only happens when a child is in extreme pain before they pass.

When they handed me the small urn filled with her ashes, I felt numb. I couldn't process it.

I could still hear her little voice calling me Mommy.

Just then, my phone chimed with a notification.

It was a post from Hudson on social media.

It was a picture of Jayden in his hospital bed. The caption read: "So proud of this little warrior for beating the Grim Reaper again. Uncle Hudson loves you forever."

I let out a cold, hollow laugh. The irony was sickening.

On the day his daughter died, he was celebrating the fact that another man's son was still breathing.

The day of the funeral, Hudson finally showed up.

He walked in with a scowl, and the first thing he did was knock the offering bowls off Daisy's memorial table.

"Stella, have you lost your mind? Daisy is in the hospital, and you're throwing a fake funeral? What is wrong with you?"

Janie and her son were standing right behind him.

Janie looked at me with fake pity. "Stella, I know you're from a small town and you might be... sensitive. But lying about your child's death just to get Hudson's attention? That's low."

I looked at Daisy's photo. I remembered when she was a newborn, and I had so many plans for her.

Now, she was alone in a dark jar because she was scared of the dark.

I reached into my bag, pulled out the death certificate, and slapped it across Hudson's face.

"Daisy is dead. If you think I'm lying, call the hospital. Check the time of death."

"Oh, and by the way, Hudson. While you were posting about Jayden beating death, our daughter was being turned into ash."

Hudson picked up the paper. When he saw the official stamp and the photo of Daisy, his face went white.

"No... no, this can't be real. She was fine. My daughter wouldn't just die."

"Stella, tell me this is a sick joke. Please."

His eyes turned red, and his voice cracked. When he saw my own bloodshot eyes, he stumbled back.

He suddenly lunged for the altar and grabbed the urn, clutching it to his chest.

"Daisy? Daddy's here. Come out and see Daddy!"