Chapter 4

My mother flew into a rage, storming over to my door and pounding on it with her fists and feet.

"Ungrateful girl, I'm your own mother!"

"If you call the police and have me arrested, heaven will strike you down for it."

I felt nothing. I simply continued transferring the cash from my bag into the safe.

Just then, Jason suddenly pushed the door open and walked in.

"Sylvia, what has gotten into you today?"

"You used to be so good to me, so attentive. You cared about me."

"But this time, I was in a car accident and injured my leg, but you couldn't even be bothered to come to the hospital and check on me."

His tone dripped with wounded reproach.

I looked straight at him and gave him a cold smile.

"Did you really get hurt in a car accident?"

But the moment he met my emotionless gaze, he visibly faltered.

"Why are you asking me that? I really am hurt."

"Jason."

I raised my voice, making him flinch.

"I did come to see you that day. But I didn't go in. Do you know why?"

He didn't answer. He only started to tremble, as if he already sensed that I'd seen through his lies long ago.

When he stayed silent, I spoke coldly.

"Because that day, outside the ward, I heard your little secret."

"On our wedding night, you got me drunk on purpose, and my mother cut the power so you and Jolene could use the blackout as an excuse to sleep together."

"And now she's carrying your child."

"Am I wrong?"

Jason froze on the spot. The two others at the door looked just as rattled.

He stared at me, wide-eyed, but couldn't come up with a single excuse.

It was Jolene who spoke.

"Sylvia, we—it's not what you think..."

She couldn't even figure out what to say next.

My mother, though, suddenly went quiet and turned to leave.

A sense of dread washed over me.

Jason reached out and grabbed my arm. I jerked away from him.

"Don't touch me!"

"Sylvia, will you just listen to me?"

I was about to speak when I heard the sound of glass shattering.

"Auntie, stop smashing it. That's Uncle's memorial portrait—oh, don't burn it!"

"Jolene, get out of the way. That bastard got off easy, dying like that and leaving me to raise his ungrateful daughter."

"And she’s so damn disobedient, too."

I bolted outside. The moment I saw my mother on the balcony, burning the last things my father had left behind, panic seized me.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Stop it, now."

In her hand was the only photo my father had left behind. If she loosened her grip even slightly, it would fall straight into the brazier.

"Look how frantic you are. It just goes to show the dead are always more useful than the living."

My face burned with rage, but I didn't dare rush her and snatch the photo away. One wrong move, and she'd drop it into the fire.

"Why are you burning my father's things?!"

"Because you don't listen to me. Because you don't know how to be a good daughter."

What exactly did she expect me to do to prove I was a good, obedient daughter?

Was I supposed to turn into a mindless robot, blindly doing whatever she told me?

Then I remembered what Jason had said in the ward.

My eyes went cold at once.

"Then tell me. What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to divorce Jason right now, so Jolene’s baby can be born legitimate."

"Besides, I don't want people talking behind my back because of this."

So this was what it was all about. She was using my father's keepsakes to force me to divorce Jason for Jolene's sake.

I turned to look at Jason, who hadn't said a word this whole time.

"And you? Is this what you want too?"

"Sylvia, just go along with it for now. After she has the baby, we can—"

I cut him off.

"That won't be necessary."