Chapter 4

The signing was a cold, quiet affair in a sterile conference room at my lawyer David Chen' s office. He was the only one besides my private investigator who knew the truth, and his face was a mask of professional neutrality as he witnessed the documents. Emily sat across from me, radiating a triumphant glow she tried to hide behind a veneer of sober gratitude. Mark was not present; he was solidifying his role as the aggrieved husband.

"I can' t thank you enough, Sarah," Emily said once the final document was stamped. "You' ve given my son a chance at a real future."

She slid a single, tarnished key across the mahogany table. "I know things are tough with Mark right now. He changed the locks. You can... you can stay at the old cottage my parents left me. It' s out in the suburbs. It' s not much, but it' s a place to sleep."

A rundown cottage in the middle of nowhere. It was a calculated insult, a way to rub my downfall in my face. I picked up the key.

"Thank you, Emily," I said, my voice flat. "That' s very generous."

Later that evening, alone in the dusty, damp cottage that smelled of mildew and decay, my phone rang. It was my father. I had blocked his number, so he must have been calling from a friend' s phone. I let it ring for a moment before answering.

His voice was a low rumble of fury. "It' s done, then. You actually did it. You gave away your daughter' s legacy. Your mother is so distraught she can' t even speak. Are you happy now, Sarah? Is this what you wanted?"

"Yes," I said.

There was a long pause. When he spoke again, the anger was gone, replaced by a deep, aching sadness that cut through my defenses.

"I don' t understand," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I remember the day Lily was born. You held her in your arms and you wept with joy. You told me you' d never known a love like that. You said you would burn down the world for her. What happened to that woman? What happened to my daughter?"

His words hit their mark. I squeezed my eyes shut, a single, hot tear tracing a path through the grime on my cheek. I remembered that day. I remembered the weight of her tiny body in my arms, the fierce, all-consuming love that had redefined my entire existence. It was that love that was fueling this nightmare.

"I have to go," I whispered, my voice breaking.

I hung up before he could say another word, wiping my face with the back of my hand. I stared at the peeling wallpaper of the cottage. This was my life now. An outcast, hated by everyone I loved. I had to see it through. The public humiliation was a necessary price. I was a ghost in my own life, haunting the fringes while Mark and Emily grew more confident, more careless. And their carelessness would be their undoing.