Chapter 1
My daughter, Lily Foster, was killed by a landslide.
My husband, James Foster, from the rescue team, ignored my desperate cries and rushed over to his ex-girlfriend, Emily Harris, who was heavily pregnant.
Right before Lily died, she gave me that sad look and asked, "Is Dad going to ignore us again?"
I wanted to tell her Daddy wasn't.
But the words just wouldn't come.
After Lily was wheeled into the morgue, I called James.
He sounded annoyed. "Emily's pregnant and she's freaked out. Can't you pick a better time to start a fight?"
After hanging up, my hand lingered on the deep wound on my forehead.
It wasn't just about arguing. I wanted justice for Lily.
*****
"Lily, don't fall asleep," I cried out, my voice shaking with panic.
I was lying under the overturned car, clutching Lily in my arms, not even caring about the blood trickling down my own forehead.
Debris from the landslide had gashed Lily's neck, and no matter how tightly I pressed my hand to the wound, I couldn't stop the blood from flowing.
Her little face was pale as a sheet, and she hugged a crumpled piece of paper to her chest.
"The drawing I made for Dad... It's all soaked..." Lily whimpered, her voice trembling.
The rain was coming down in torrents, and I pulled her closer, desperate to shield her from the storm.
"It's okay, Lily, don't worry. Dad will like it, I promise," I whispered, trying to soothe her.
When I spotted James in his high-vis rescue uniform, I thought there was finally hope for Lily and me.
But he just rushed past us, heading straight for a perfectly fine Audi parked dozens of yards away.
"James, what are you doing? It's us," I called out.
I didn't even care about the blood pouring from my forehead as I tried to crawl out, but I was wedged in tight, completely stuck.
"Mom, that's Emily's car. Is Dad... Is he going to ignore us again?" she asked, fear flickering in her eyes.
Lily looked up at me, her eyes wide and upset, searching my face for answers. "But I've been really good, haven't I? Mom, does Dad not love me?"
I kept pressure on her neck, frantically shaking my head.
No, that's not true. Dad loved you. I wanted to say those things to comfort her, but I couldn't get a single word out.
Blood kept pouring through my fingers, and Lily's eyes were starting to close, her eyelids drooping shut.
"I... love Mom. I... hate Dad," she whispered.
In the pouring rain, my voice was the only thing echoing through the chaos as I screamed hoarse. "James, Turn around. Save her. Please."
Lily's small body grew limp in my arms, and my throat was getting hoarse. "Please, save our daughter."
But James's broad, unyielding back stood between me and Emily, shutting her out from my world.
The stretcher rushed over to him, and he bent down to shield Emily from the pouring rain. After she was loaded into the ambulance, he climbed right after her.
My mind was ringing, everything a blur, and all I could feel was Lily's little body growing colder and colder in my arms.
I fell to my knees, pleading with the doctors to save Lily.
The cut on my forehead started bleeding again, but I couldn't even feel the pain.
"She's always pretending to sleep. It's just a game to her. Please, you have to try again. I'm begging you, please," I cried out, my voice raw with desperation.
The doctor pulled me up to my feet.
"Go say your last goodbye," he said softly.
With the rescue team holding me up, I watched as they covered Lily with a white sheet and took her away to the morgue.
It was a long time before I could even react to the fact that my daughter was gone. She wasn't coming back.
She died in my arms, while her father was just a short distance away, holding an umbrella over another woman, shielding her from the storm.
A wad of paper slipped out of my pocket.
It was Lily's drawing.
Rain had soaked it through, but I could still see the smudged crayon marks.
It was a childish crayon drawing of a family of three.
Above each figure, she'd written: "Dad," "Mom," and "Lily."
And underneath, she'd scrawled: "We'll always be together."
With my hands trembling, I dialed James.
He sounded annoyed. "Emily's pregnant and she's freaked out. Can't you pick a better time to start a fight?"
Then came Emily's voice, sweet and soft, almost like she was pouting. "James, I think I'm catching a cold."
He jumped in without missing a beat, "Don't worry, I'll get you some cold medicine."
Then he shot me one last warning. "Emily's about to have the baby. This is a matter of life and death. There can't be any screw-ups. If you keep getting jealous no matter what, don't blame me for blocking you."
With that, he hung up.
I looked up at the blinding fluorescent lights and let out a sudden, hollow laugh.
Emily's baby was a matter of life and death.
But what about my daughter?
James, this was the end for us.