Chapter 3

Like that, they kicked my child and me out.

Ella hugged her bunny plushie tightly and whispered, "Mommy, does this mean we can't sleep with Daddy anymore?"

Before I could say anything, Callie bent down and softly stroked Ella's hair.

She said sweetly, "Ella, darling, you shouldn't call him that so casually anymore.

"Your dad isn't feeling well right now, so try to be a good girl, okay?"

Then, with a gentle smile, she added, "How about you call me Mom for now?"

For a moment, it felt like my mind went blank, a buzzing in my ears from the shock.

Ella was startled, clutching her bunny plushie and hiding behind my legs.

Right then, the drawing she'd been holding, the one she never got to give Arthur at the hospital, slipped from her arms and landed on the floor.

Callie glanced down, nudged it with her toe, looking disgusted.

"Ugh, this crappy drawing again?" she muttered.

She bent down, picked it up, and carelessly tossed it into the trash without a second thought.

Ella's eyes welled up with tears.

"That was for Daddy," she whispered.

Right then, Arthur came down the stairs.

He paused briefly when he saw what was happening, frowned, and said, "Don't let the kid cry. My head hurts."

At that moment, the last shred of hope inside me shattered.

I bent down, picked the drawing out of the trash, and carefully smoothed out its wrinkles.

Then I took out my phone, snapped a picture, and sent it to someone.

I only sent four words. [I wished him dead.]

Less than three seconds later, my phone buzzed with a reply.

Jeffrey: [Twenty minutes.

[Gabby, don't put up with it anymore this time.]

It was Jeffrey Chandler.

He was my college classmate, and the one guy Arthur hated running into, his arch nemesis.

Back then, Jeffrey chased after me for three months, but I friend-zoned him three times.

When I married Arthur, he showed up at the wedding, sat at the very back, and barely said a word except, "Congratulations."

We hardly talked after that. If we bumped into each other at work, it was strictly business.

But I always knew he and Arthur were arch-nemesis.

Twenty minutes later, as he said, a black Maybach pulled up outside the Baxter Manor.

I watched Jeffrey step out of the car from behind the floor-to-ceiling window.

He didn't come in. He stood outside in the darkness, looking up at me.

My phone buzzed.

Jeffrey: [Come out. I'm taking you and Ella away.]

I looked down at Ella, still trembling in my arms, and slowly typed out a reply. [One more night.]

Jeffrey called me right away.

As soon as I picked up, his voice grew heavy. "Gabby, are you still holding on?"

I looked up at the master bedroom on the second floor, its lights still on, hearing occasional laughter from inside. Suddenly, I found myself smiling, too.

I said quietly, "No. I want them to stand even taller.

"That way, when they fall, it'll hurt even more."

There was a brief silence on the other end.

Jeffrey let out a frustrated laugh. "Fine. Go ahead and play your game.

"But if anything goes wrong tonight, I'm coming in and grabbing you both myself."

Before I had a chance to reply, disaster struck that night.

At one in the morning, Ella suddenly spiked a fever.

Her whole face was burning red, nestled in my arms, breathing in shallow, ragged breaths, her eyelashes soaked with sweat.

I searched every drawer in the guest room, but couldn't find any meds for her fever.

Then, I finally remembered the medicine kit was always kept in the master bathroom.

I carried Ella over and knocked on the door.

Arthur took his sweet time before finally cracking the door open just a sliver.

He was wearing a bathrobe, his face full of impatience.

"What is it?" he asked.

I tried to keep my voice steady. "Ella's burning up, and the medicine kit's in your room."

Before Arthur could say anything, Callie's soft, sweet voice drifted out from inside. "Arthur, I'm feeling so dizzy."

Arthur turned back to her.

Arthur turned back to her. "Just lie down for now. I'll be right there."

Then he turned back to me, his eyes full of irritation. "Take her to the hospital if she's got a fever.

"Keep her quiet. Callie's a light sleeper."

For a moment, my breath caught in my throat.

Ella, dazed from the fever, her tiny, burning hand reached for his sleeve.

"Daddy," Ella whispered.

But Arthur recoiled, as if she were contaminated. "Don't touch me."

Her little hand hung in the air, left empty.

Ella stared in shock for a couple of seconds, then big tears fell from her eyes.

I didn't say a single word after that.

I held Ella close and walked straight downstairs.

It was pouring outside.

As soon as I rushed out the door, headlights cut through the rain from outside the gate.

Jeffrey opened the car door and stepped out, not bothering with an umbrella.

In a few quick strides, he reached me and immediately draped his coat around Ella.