Chapter 2

The next few days were a blur of cold shoulders and whispered condemnations. At my architectural firm, colleagues I' d known for years would fall silent when I entered a room. The story of my monstrous decision had spread like a virus.

The most unexpected moment came not from an adult, but from Lily herself. I was forced to pick her up from a dance rehearsal because Mark was supposedly "too busy" dealing with the fallout. I found her in the hallway with her instructor, a stern woman named Ms. Albright.

"Frankly, Mrs. Miller," Ms. Albright was saying, her voice dripping with disapproval, "I' m shocked. Lily is one of my most dedicated students. To pull the rug out from under her like this... it' s unthinkable."

I braced myself for Lily' s tears, for her accusations. Instead, my daughter lifted her chin, her eyes red but her voice surprisingly firm.

"You don' t know my mom," Lily said to her instructor. "She... she must have a reason."

My heart constricted. Even now, after I had wounded her so deeply, she was defending me. That loyalty, that unwavering trust, was the very thing I was fighting to protect. It made the charade ten times harder.

Ms. Albright, taken aback by Lily' s defense, softened her tone. "Well, dear, whatever the reason, my door is always open if you need to talk." She shot me one last look of disdain before walking away.

The public pressure continued to mount. A few days later, I was at my office, forcing myself to concentrate on blueprints, when Mark and Emily walked in. Emily had a stack of documents in her hand and a look of feigned sympathy on her face.

"Sarah, honey," she began, placing the papers on my desk. "It' s the transfer deed for the brownstone. We just need your signature."

Mark stood behind her, his hand on her shoulder, a gesture of support that was meant for me to see. "Let' s just get this over with, Sarah. For everyone' s sake."

I picked up my pen, my hand steady. This was it. The point of no return. As the ink touched the paper, my phone buzzed violently on the desk. It was the school nurse.

"Mrs. Miller? It' s Lily. She' s had a severe anxiety attack. She collapsed during class. We' ve called an ambulance, but she' s asking for you."

The world tilted. My daughter. My baby, in an ambulance. Every maternal instinct screamed at me to drop everything and run. I could feel Emily' s and Mark' s eyes on me, watching, waiting. Their whole plan depended on my love for Lily, a love they were trying to sever. I had to be stronger than that.

I took a deep breath and turned back to the nurse on the phone. My voice was a shard of glass.

"She' s just being dramatic," I said, loud enough for Mark and Emily to hear clearly. "She always does this to get attention. Just have her father meet her at the hospital. I' m in the middle of something important."

I hung up the phone before the nurse could reply. The silence in the room was absolute. I looked at Mark and Emily, whose expressions had shifted from anticipation to genuine shock at my coldness.

Without another word, I signed the deed, my signature a clean, decisive slash across the page. I pushed the papers across the desk toward them. "It' s done."