Chapter 1
After I died, Michael Foster kept his beloved Olivia Shaw in our home.
On a freezing Christmas Eve, our five-year-old daughter Sophie was kicked out of the house while running a high fever. She froze to death in the snow.
Later, Michael found a blood-stained drawing among Sophie's belongings: [Dad, I missed Mom so much today. Did you?]
That snowy night, he stood before my grave until dawn. But Sophie and I were gone for good.
*****
Emily felt like she was on her last legs.
It wasn't an exaggeration. In the dead of winter, with the temperature plunging below freezing, she stood barefoot in the snow wearing nothing but a thin knit sweater.
Her feet had long since gone numb; stepping on the icy crust felt like walking on cotton wool—stumbling, heavy, and hollow.
The little girl in her arms was burning up. Her tiny face pressed against Emily's neck, her breath coming out in hot, ragged puffs.
"Mom, aren't we going home?" Sophie's voice was a mere whisper, every word accompanied by a raspy, rattling sound in her throat.
Emily pulled her closer, trying to keep her voice steady. "We are, baby. I'm taking you home."
But she didn't have a clue where "home" was anymore.
Her phone had died long ago. Her wallet, ID, and Sophie's insurance card were all left behind in the house she had lived in for five years, the home where she had hand-picked every piece of decor, thinking she'd be there for a lifetime.
But that wasn't her home anymore.
Three months ago, when Michael first brought Olivia back, he had said, "Olivia just got back to the country and has nowhere to stay. She's just going to crash here for a few days."
Emily watched as Olivia walked into the foyer with two massive thirty-inch suitcases, offering a sugary smile. "I hope I'm not a bother, Emily."
Emily didn't say a word. She just glanced down at her own washed-out loungewear, then at the brand-new Valentino Rockstud heels on Olivia's feet.
She found out later that Michael had taken Olivia to the mall to buy those shoes. They cost six thousand dollars, and he'd put them on his credit card.
When the bank alert hit her phone, Emily was playing in the sandbox with Sophie at the playground downstairs. Sophie was pouring sand into her palm with a plastic shovel, giggling, "Mom, the sand is warm."
Looking at that text message, Emily felt the warmth in her hand vanish instantly.
Eventually, "crashing for a few days" turned into "Olivia is frail and needs looking after," which then turned into "You and Sophie move to the guest room; Olivia needs the master suite."
It wasn't that Emily hadn't put up a fight.
That day, she cornered Michael at his study door and demanded to know what he was playing at.
Michael leaned against the doorframe, a half-burnt cigarette between his fingers, making no effort to hide his irritation. "Emily, when did you get so unreasonable?
"Olivia is the little sister you watched grow up. She's sick. What's wrong with me taking care of her?"
"She's not my sister," Emily said, enunciating every word. "She's your ex."
Michael's expression shifted before he crushed his cigarette into the ashtray. He did it with such force the glass rattled. "Give it a rest, will you? There's nothing going on between me and Olivia. It's all just in your head."
With that, he brushed past her, his shoulder knocking her off balance.
That night, Emily held Sophie on the small twin bed in the guest room, staring at the ceiling until dawn.
The little body beside her was warm, her breathing steady, occasionally mumbling, "Mom, hold me."
Emily buried her face in Sophie's soft hair and choked back her sobs. It wasn't that she hadn't thought about leaving. But where would she go?
Her parents had divorced when she was 15. Both had started new families, and now, a holiday text was about the only thing she ever got from them.
She had married Michael right after college and hadn't worked a day or saved a penny since.
For five years, her world had revolved entirely around this family, around Michael, and around Sophie.
She had turned herself into a windmill, whirling so long she'd forgotten what it felt like to rest.