Chapter 2

I stood up and looked at Dylan calmly.

"Dylan, I want a divorce," I said.

He sneered, "You screw up and won't even own it, and now all you ever do is ask for a divorce? Seriously, you're out of your mind.

"You'd break up our family over something this small? Did you even think about Tanya? Are you even fit to be her mom?"

I lowered my head, looking at the Barbie doll on Tanya's nightstand.

I really wasn't fit to be her mom.

Gently, I picked up the Barbie and cradled it in my arms. It was Tanya's favorite. She always slept with it in her arms every night.

The morgue was so dark and cold. I couldn't help worrying that she might be scared.

Chloe put on her sweetest voice. "Emma, you really shouldn't keep talking about divorce just because you're mad. It would break Dylan's heart to hear you talk like that."

As I passed by her, she suddenly latched onto my hand.

I jerked away on instinct, but she acted like I'd shoved her with all my strength, stumbling back into the cabinet with a loud bang.

I was stunned for a second, and before I could even react, Dylan backhanded me across the face.

My head whipped to the side, and a coppery tang of blood spread through my mouth.

Dylan froze for a moment, hesitated, then finally turned away and went to help Chloe up.

He said, "Emma, stop acting like a jealous drama queen. Chloe hasn't done anything wrong. You're a mom. Try not to show Tanya what a train wreck her mom can be."

I watched them wrapped up in each other, and inside, I felt nothing anymore.

But deep down, there was still a faint hope flickering in me.

I looked up at Dylan.

I asked, "Dylan, was there ever even a moment when you truly saw Tanya as your daughter?"

He paused for a moment, then shrugged like he couldn't care less, his voice full of annoyance.

He said, "Seriously, what's the big deal? So I didn't get to make her a burger. Do you have to make it into this whole thing?

"Just go get her. I'll whip up a burger for her in a bit. Happy now?"

I wish I could go get her.

But no matter how many times I called out for her in the morgue, she never responded. Not even once.

When Tanya was born, Dylan said she was a gift—proof of how much we loved each other, a blessing from heaven.

But after Chloe came back, Tanya stopped being a blessing.

Chloe stood up, pretending to be in pain as she said to Dylan, "Dylan, don't be mad. Emma just got a little worked up. I know she didn't mean to hurt me."

Before I could even get a word out, Dylan helped her onto the couch and glared at me furiously.

He said, "Emma, Chloe isn't just my childhood friend. She's my business partner, too. She's been abroad for years and missed homemade burgers. I just went over to make her some. Do you really have to make such a big deal out of this?"

Even now, he still blamed me for everything.

If he had cared about Tanya at all, or had even a hint of humanity left in him, he never would've left a five-year-old kid locked in a car in minus 22°F.

I looked up at Dylan, my eyes bloodshot, staring straight at him.

He froze for a moment. In all our years together, he'd never seen me like this before. For a split second, I saw guilt flash across his face.

He said, "Fine, if you won't go get her, I will."

With that, he stormed into Tanya's room and yanked the covers off the bed.

But all he found was a Winnie the Pooh stuffed animal.

He came out, looking seriously annoyed, and barked at me, "Where's Tanya? Where did you hide her? Go get her now."

My voice finally broke through, hoarse and ragged, barely more than a whisper.

I said, "You won't ever see her again."

Dylan scoffed, his tone dripping with contempt.

He said, "Emma, how childish are you? Is this your idea of a threat? Did you drop her off at your mom's or mine?"

When he kept pushing, I couldn't bring myself to say that Tanya was gone. The words choked me, stuck in my throat. I just couldn't say them.

And honestly, even if I did, he'd never believe me. Not ever.

Just then, Chloe grabbed the wrapped gift box from the table.

She flashed a sweet smile. "Emma, come on, don't be like that. Just call Tanya out so we can all play together."

She started to unwrap the gift box as she spoke.

Rage was burning in my chest, wild and uncontrollable.

I'd picked out that Barbie-pink tablet just for Tanya before I returned. It was all she wanted.

But now, she'd never get the chance to open it herself.

I'd rather let it sit and gather dust forever than let Chloe's disgusting hands even touch it.

"Don't you dare touch it!" I shouted, rushing over and grabbing her hand.

I felt like snapping it right then and there.

Pain flashed across her face.

"Emma, I was just trying to help you unwrap it," she said, feigning innocence.

Dylan stormed over, practically shoving himself between us, desperate to break us apart.

In the middle of our scuffle, a folded paper slipped out of my coat and hit the floor. Chloe snatched it up before I could reach it.

She said, "A death certificate? Seriously, Emma? You're her mom. How could you be so jealous that you'd fake something like this? What kind of mom wishes this on her own child?"

Dylan snatched the paper from her, glanced at it, then hurled the gift box right at my face.

He roared in fury, "Emma, I always thought you were just petty, but at least you were a halfway decent mom. I never imagined you'd sink so low as to fake a death certificate for Tanya. You don't deserve to be a mom!"

My cheek stung, like it had been sliced open, the pain shooting straight to the bone.

But nothing hurt more than his words.

How dare he say that?

She was his daughter, his own flesh and blood. But since the day she was born, had he ever held her? Changed her diaper? Kissed her, even once?

I was about to yell at him, but then my eyes landed on the tablet lying on the floor, its screen completely shattered.

I threw myself at it, muttering frantically to myself like a madwoman, "No, this is for Tanya. It can't be broken. It can't be."