Chapter 3

After his mother's death, Elroy changed. The love in his eyes was replaced by a cold, burning hatred. He was no longer my husband; he was my jailer.

He directed all his cruelty at Emma. He never held her. He never spoke a kind word to her. He called her "it" or "that thing." When she cried, he would lock her in her room. He treated our daughter like she was the living embodiment of my "sin."

I tried to leave him. I packed a small bag for me and Emma, planning to escape in the middle of the night.

But he caught me. He dragged me back into the house by my hair.

He held a knife to Emma's throat, her little face streaked with terrified tears.

"Try to leave again, Annis," he whispered, his breath hot on my face. "And I swear, I will send you her head in a box."

He laughed at my despair. "You think you can escape me? You are my property. You and that brat will pay for what you did to my mother until the day you die."

"I didn't kill her, Elroy!" I screamed, over and over again. "I didn't do it!"

But he never listened.

I remembered his mother, a stern, cruel woman who had always despised me. She thought I wasn't good enough for her son. She insulted me, humiliated me in front of her friends, and did everything she could to make my life miserable. I never understood his blind devotion to a woman who was so full of hate.

But I understood his grief. I tried to be patient, hoping that one day he would see the truth. That hope died a slow, painful death.

Now, in the hospital, Elroy's bodyguards returned.

"Sir," one of them said, bowing his head. "The... the body is gone."

Elroy spun around, his face contorted with rage. "What do you mean, gone?"

"The dumpster is empty. The director said... she said Annis must have come back and taken it."

The bodyguard was lying. I knew it. But why?

"Find her," Elroy hissed, his voice dangerously low. "I don't care what it takes. Find Annis. Find them both."

He hired a private investigator, a man with a reputation for finding anyone. Within hours, they had a lead. My last known location was a small apartment I had secretly rented, a place I was planning to escape to with Emma. A place I had told only one person about.

Korey Vinson. My childhood friend.

Elroy stormed the apartment building, kicking down the door. The place was empty.

"Annis! I know you're in here!" he roared, tearing the small apartment apart. He threw furniture, smashed pictures. "You can't hide from me forever!"

I floated in the corner, a silent observer. You can't see me, Elroy. I'm already gone.

Suddenly, the door creaked open. Korey stood there, his face pale but his eyes defiant.

"What are you doing here, Ayala?"

Elroy grabbed Korey by the collar, slamming him against the wall. "Where is she? Where are Annis and the brat?"

Korey laughed, a bitter, humorless sound. "Looking for your daughter, Elroy? A little late for that, don't you think? You're the one who refused to pay for her treatment. You're the one who killed her."

"She's not dead!" Elroy shouted, his face inches from Korey's. "It's a trick! A sick game Annis is playing!"

"Emma is dead, you bastard," Korey said, his voice dropping to a low growl. "And Annis... Annis is dead, too."

Elroy froze, his grip loosening. He stared at Korey, his mind refusing to process the words. He was about to hit him when his phone rang.

It was the private investigator.

Elroy put the phone on speaker, his eyes still locked on Korey.

"Mr. Ayala," the investigator's voice said, calm and professional. "We have an update. It's confirmed. Annis Travis died a year ago. Her body was found..."

The investigator's words faded into a dull roar in my ears. Elroy's face went from rage to confusion, then to utter, slack-jawed shock.