Chapter 4

I had become the most hated woman in the country. Every time I refreshed my feed, the hateful comments seemed to multiply exponentially.

My phone wouldn't stop ringing. A mob of self-righteous strangers, whipped into a frenzy by the rumors online, had even gathered outside my home, pointing at my windows and shouting.

I pulled every curtain shut, cutting myself off from this world of hatred.

The moment Sean chose to sacrifice Kate to protect Yara, I knew there was no turning back.

He wanted to drive me insane. He wanted everyone to believe I had lost my mind. That way, Kate's death could forever be written off as an accident. And he got to play the tragic hero who had endured it all.

What a slick way to escape responsibility.

…

That afternoon, just when public opinion had turned completely against me, my doorbell rang.

I peered through the peephole, and my heart sank.

Sean stood outside my home, surrounded by reporters with cameras and influencers live-streaming on their phones.

He wasn't wearing his uniform. He had nothing on but a thin shirt, his hair disheveled and dark circles under his eyes. He looked exhausted, devastated, and completely heartbroken.

He yelled outside my house until his voice turned hoarse, "Wendy! Open the door! I know you're in there!

"I know you're in pain! I know you hate me! But you can't keep doing this to yourself! We still have Dahlia's funeral to take care of. Please, just come out and see me. Just once!"

Every camera turned to his anguished face.

One influencer aimed his phone at Sean and spoke to his live stream audience in a sympathetic tone, "Guys, look at this. Mr. Quimby is really going through so much right now.

"His mother-in-law just died, and his wife has locked herself inside the house and refuses to see anyone. She's even been lashing out at him. He can't even go home."

Another reporter called out over the crowd, "Mr. Quimby, what's Ms. Wendy Levine's condition right now? Has she come to terms with her mother's death?"

Sean closed his eyes, his expression in pain, and slowly shook his head. "She doesn't believe it… She refuses to believe it. She keeps saying that the woman wasn't her mother. I just… I don't know what to do anymore."

He turned toward the cameras, as if he were making his case to the entire country. Tears glistened in his eyes. "Dahlia hasn't even been laid to rest yet! And Wendy… She hasn't shed a single tear. Not one.

"She hasn't shown the slightest bit of grief. All she does is attack me and Yara, saying things that make absolutely no sense…"

He looked up at my window. "Please, Wendy! Come to your senses. Please!"

He was putting on one hell of a performance.

The live stream chat exploded. Comment after comment flooded the screen, all of them cursing me as a cold-blooded, crazy woman while showering Sean with sympathy.

Just as everyone was completely swept up in the heartbreaking scene Sean had put on, a woman in a floral dress suddenly pushed her way through the crowd.

She was carrying an insulated food container. "Hey, excuse me! Move aside! What are you all doing here? Why are you blocking my front door?" her voice rang out loud and clear.

The entire crowd fell silent, as if someone had hit pause. For a few seconds, an eerie silence hung over the scene.

Everyone turned toward the voice.

Through the peephole, I finally got a clear look at her face.

It was Mom. She stood there, staring at the crowd in complete confusion, still holding the food container.

"Sean? What are you doing here? I told you I'd be flying home this afternoon!

"Where's Wendy? I made her some chicken pot pie. She's probably not eating properly again, is she?"