Chapter 5

I had just wrapped up my interview. It went phenomenally well—the executive board offered me the Landscape Director position on the spot.

I couldn't wait to share the news with Olivia.

I pulled out my phone and texted Christian to ask when they were coming home, but minutes passed with zero response.

Then, a breaking news alert popped up on my screen: ACTIVE SHOOTER AT DOWNTOWN GALLERIA.

My heart stopped.

I sprinted to my car like a lunatic, driving to the scene at terrifying speeds.

Ducking under the yellow police tape, I searched frantically through the chaotic crowd until I finally found Olivia, huddled in a narrow utility alcove.

She was curled into a tight ball.

The hem of her overall dress was torn from people shoving past her, and her face was covered in dust and tears.

I tried calling Christian—his phone went straight to silent while he was sitting comfortably in the emergency room.

I dropped to my knees and pulled Olivia into my arms, holding her so tightly I thought my heart would break.

All the suppressed pain, anger, and terror of almost losing my daughter burst out as tears spilled over.

"My sweet girl! I'm so sorry. Mommy's here, Mommy's got you."

Olivia, who had been holding it in for hours, finally buried her face in my neck and sobbed uncontrollably.

"Mommy... I was so scared..." she wept, her little body trembling. "Daddy went to save someone else. He left me."

Hearing those words from my daughter snapped something inside me.

I hated Christian with every fiber of my being.

If his past broken promises were just emotional flaws, leaving our daughter in an active shooter zone was pure recklessness that almost cost her life.

I was done giving chances.

I was exhausted, and my daughter couldn't survive another round of his betrayal.

This was the end.

I brought Olivia straight home and packed up every single item belonging to the two of us in record time.

Just as I zipped up our last suitcase, heavy knocking sounded at the front door.

"Evelyn? Are you home?" called out our neighbor, Claire. "I baked a fresh chocolate pie! I remembered little Olivia loves it, so I brought some over."

I had no idea when Christian would show up, and I refused to spend another second under the same roof. I opened the door slightly, forcing a polite smile.

"Claire, thank you so much, but we have an urgent emergency to take care of right now," I said quickly. "Let's catch up next time."

"Oh, what a shame! No worries at all, my boys will devour it anyway." Claire laughed, waving goodbye.

As soon as Claire left, Olivia suddenly ran back upstairs to her room.

I followed her in.

She walked over to her desk and stood quietly in front of the broken Lego Cathedral.

Only one single Golden Spire remained standing at the very peak.

She stared at it. That piece of plastic was the last remaining proof of the warmest—and most fake—fatherly love Christian had ever given her.

Olivia took a deep breath, a quiet, cold determination settling in her eyes.

She placed her small hand against the edge of the cathedral's top tier, pressed down, and ripped off the tenth Golden Spire.

The final one.

She didn't save it in her velvet storage box. She casually tossed it into the trash bin beside her desk.

Then, with a sudden, powerful shove, her small hands pushed the entire Lego structure off the desk.

CRASH!

The cathedral—the grand symbol of her father’s love—shattered into a thousand scattered pieces across the floor.