Chapter 2

I yanked away on instinct, but Reva threw herself backward with exaggerated flair, crashing into the cabinet with a deafening bang.

I froze for a split second—then Marshall slapped me hard across the face.

My head jerked to the side, the coppery tang of blood flooding my mouth.

He looked stunned for a beat, but after a quick pause, he turned to help Reva to her feet instead.

"Kellie, can you quit acting like a bitter, jealous nag? Reva hasn't done a thing wrong—at least try to be a good role model for Miranda."

As I saw them so cozy together, my heart was already dead inside, totally numb.

But a spark of unwillingness flickered up, and I tilted my head up a little to meet Marshall's eyes.

"Marshall, deep down, did you ever—even for a second—truly see Miranda as your daughter?"

He hesitated, then exhaled like he was relieved, shaking his head in mock exasperation.

"Come on, is this really such a big deal? Okay, I didn't keep an eye on her—does it have to escalate like this?

"Just get her in here, and I'll buy her a ton more Barbies later, alright?"

Oh, how I wished I could summon her back.

But in the morgue, I'd called her name over and over, and she never once responded.

When Miranda was born, Marshall had sworn our love had moved the God, gifting her to us. But from the moment Reva returned to the country, Miranda was no longer that precious gift.

Reva got to her feet, feigning pain as she told Marshall, "Marshall, don't be mad. Kellie was just caught up in the heat of the moment—I know she didn't mean it."

Before I could get a word in, Marshall was already guiding her to the sofa, shooting me a furious glare. "Kellie, Reva's not only my old childhood buddy—she's my business partner, too. She was dying for that bouquet, so I just went to grab it for her. Do you have to turn this into such a drama?"

Sure enough, even now, he was convinced I was the one at fault.

If he'd had even the tiniest bit of concern for Miranda—or any scrap of decency left—he never would have abandoned a six-year-old colorblind girl all alone on that hazardous, bustling street.

I lifted my head, my bloodshot eyes boring straight into Marshall.

Marshall's face went stiff. In all our years of marriage, he'd never seen me like this before, and a hint of guilt flickered across his eyes.

"Fine, if you won't call her, I will!"

He stormed into the children's room and ripped back the blankets—only to reveal a Winnie the Pooh stuffed toy.

He burst back out, scanning the room impatiently, and barked, "Where's Miranda? Where the hell did you stash her? Get her out here now!"

My voice scraped out hoarse and raw, like rusty iron. "You'll never see her again."

Marshall scoffed. "Kellie, how immature are you? Still pulling threats like this? Did you drop her off at your mom's or mine?"

I parted my lips, but the words "Miranda's dead" wouldn't come—I knew he'd never buy it anyway.

That was when Reva grabbed the gift box off the table. "Kellie, come on, don't be stubborn. Call Miranda out so we can all have some fun together." And with that, she began tearing into the wrapping.

Fury detonated inside me. That was the beautiful snow globe I'd picked up for Miranda on my business trip, complete with her favorite Disney princess inside. Give it a gentle shake, and snowflakes would dance around in a magical swirl. It was the one thing she'd been dying for, and now she'd never unwrap it herself.

"Don't touch it!" I bellowed, charging over and clamping down on her hand hard enough to crush bone.

Reva put on a pained grimace. "I was just helping you open it."

Marshall jumped in to pull us apart.

During the tussle, the death proof slipped out and hit the floor. Reva scooped it up.

"A death proof? Kellie, how could you forge something like this out of pure jealousy and put a curse on Miranda!"

Marshall snatched it from her, took one look, then chucked the gift box right at my face, roaring, "Kellie! I figured you were just small-minded, but faking a document like this? You don't deserve to be a mom!"

The sting on my cheek was sharp, but it paled next to the agony ripping through my heart.

Oh, Marshall... Miranda was your own flesh and blood. Did you ever once hold her, change her diaper, or even give her a kiss?

I was about to confront Marshall when I spotted the shattered crystal ball on the floor, its sparkling fragments scattered all over. I threw myself at them like a maniac, muttering, "It can't be broken... this was for Miranda..."

Marshall reached out to grab the shards, but I shoved him away hard.

Reva charged forward and slapped me across the face, snarling, "How dare you push Marshall? You're lucky that's all you get!"

In that moment, my bottled-up fury erupted. I jumped to my feet and started slapping her back—left, right, a barrage of over a dozen hits raining down—until blood was spraying from her mouth and nose.