Chapter 3
Dad looked at me, not a trace of warmth in his eyes.
But Mom smiled, and even as she smiled, tears started streaming down her face.
She hugged me, holding me so tightly.
I thought she'd lose it, just like she used to, ripping apart anyone who dared mess with her.
But she didn't.
She just looked down at me, and in her eyes was something I'd never seen before—something vulnerable, so fragile that it almost scared me.
Something inside me suddenly clicked. I understood.
I stood on my tiptoes and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks with my little hands.
Then I ran back to my room, grabbed my piggy bank, and smashed it on the floor with a loud bang.
I scooped up all the coins and loose change and rushed over to Mom, dumping them into her hands.
I said, "Mom, don't cry.
"We don't need Dad anymore.
"I've got money, Mom. We can build an even prettier snow mountain just the two of us."
Mom froze, caught off guard.
She stared at the change in my hands for a long moment, then slowly reached out and hugged me close.
This time, her arms weren't cold or stiff—they were warm. So warm.
"Okay," she said softly.
From that day on, Mom changed.
She stopped looking for any gossip or news about Dad or Lane Group—never asked, never even tried to find out what was going on.
She even disbanded the opera troupe that used to put on shows just for her.
She was really there for me now.
She'd watch cartoons with me, the kind only little kids enjoy.
She took me on a tour of all the dessert shops in town, letting us try every sweet treat we wanted.
Mom couldn't stop smiling these days.
Sometimes when I looked at her, it was hard to believe she was ever the brokenhearted woman Dad left behind. I started wondering if I'd just imagined her. Maybe she'd never really existed at all.
Dad had people send over the divorce agreement to our house dozens of times.
Mom didn't even give those papers a glance. She just told the butler to throw them into the fire and use them as kindling.
Dad must've finally had enough, because after that, he never showed up again. Not a single phone call either.
Everyone in the capital upper class was gossiping about how Dad and Mom had called it quits—just waiting on the paperwork now.
And that woman, Susan, was acting like she was already the hostess of the Lane family.
She was always by Dad's side at every event, and the papers were calling her "Mr. Lane's true love".
I asked Mom, "Mom, do you really not want Dad anymore?"
Mom was peeling shrimp for me. When she heard that, she looked up and smiled.
She said, "Some things break, and it's better to just throw them out. There's no need to try fixing them.
"Zoey, remember, anyone who makes you cry isn't worth your love."
I nodded, but honestly, I didn't really get it.
I heard from Grandpa's assistant that Mom had pulled some strings in the Sinclair family to secretly investigate Susan.
The results came back really quickly.
Susan's background was spotless. There was absolutely nothing to pin on her, not even a hint.
Turned out she really did have a son, and he really was gone.
But there was one thing that was seriously weird.
She'd actually been dating a guy for years before she ever met Dad.
But right after her son passed away, that guy suddenly dropped off the face of the earth.
No one could track him down. He was just gone, no trace at all.
Mom held onto those pages, not saying a word for a long while.
"Ms. Sinclair, maybe you're reading too much into this? Maybe... Mr. Lane really just moved on to someone else," the assistant ventured in a hushed tone.
Mom shook her head, that faint smile at her lips icy and unforgiving.
She said, "Richard might lose his head sometimes, but he's not stupid.
"There's definitely something off about Susan.
"If she loves acting so much, then I'll put on a grand show with her.
"Go spread the word—tell everyone I'm sick, wasting away from longing. Say I'm on my last legs."
Word about Mom being sick spread like wildfire through the upper class.
Everyone was gossiping that Mom just couldn't let go of Dad.
People joked she was so lovesick over Dad that she actually made herself sick.
But I knew the real story. Mom was just faking it so she'd have more time to secretly look into Susan.
When Dad heard the news, he actually came home on his own for the first time.
He stood next to Mom's bed, just staring at her while she slept like a log. The look on his face was weird.
There was some guilt there, maybe a little pity as well.
But I could tell, deep down, he was mostly just relieved.
Susan came along, too.
She looked at Mom, who was so thin that she barely looked like herself, and couldn't hide the smug satisfaction in her eyes.
Susan said, "Richard, see, she still loves you.
"Maybe you should put off the divorce for a while?"
But even as she said that, her hand was gripping Dad's arm so tightly, like she was afraid he'd change his mind any second.
Dad patted her hand, coaxing her. "Relax. I gave you my word, and I'll stick to it."
Then he bent over, leaned right in close to Mom's ear, and spoke in a whisper, "Vivian, I know you can hear me.
"Just sign the agreement, and I'll transfer half of Lane Group's shares to Zoey. That's me squaring things up for you two.
"After that, we're done. No more ties between us."
I saw Mom's finger move just the tiniest bit as she lay there in bed.
Hidden behind the crack in the door, I took in every bit of what was happening, not letting a single detail slip by.
As soon as Dad left, Mom's eyes snapped open.
She didn't look sick at all. Her gaze was clear and cold, not a hint of weakness.
She said, "Figures. He's doing everything for a divorce.
"Go get the lawyer. Just follow his instructions."
The butler stared in disbelief. "Ms. Sinclair, are you really giving away Lane Group? That's your-"
"It's nothing but an empty shell now," Mom cut him off with a chilly laugh.
She said, "Does he seriously think Lane Group can last without the Sinclair family?
"I'm not in this for the money. That's never what I want.
"I want to see him totally destroyed—ruined, with absolutely nothing left."
For the next few days, Dad was practically living at home, bending over backwards to please everyone—just so Mom would hurry up and sign the divorce agreement.
He dropped by every day to see Mom, and kept bringing me all kinds of toys I'd never even heard of before, trying to butter me up, too.