Chapter 5

Chloe rushed over to hug me, but no matter how I moved, I couldn't catch her.

Then her eyes filled with tears. She sobbed, heartbroken.

"Mommy! Why won't Mommy come see me! I miss Mommy, I miss Daddy. I want to go home. It's so cold and hungry here. I'm so scared. My head hurts so much."

When I woke up, my hands were numb. My face was covered in tears.

A dull, aching pain pressed against my chest.

I rubbed my temples and sent Jody a message. [Chloe came to me in a dream and said she misses you. Let's go see her together.]

The message, sent as a careful test, sank like a stone. No response.

I put my phone aside and opened my suitcase to pack. My daughter's room was still the same. If I could, I wanted to take everything in it with me exactly as it was.

Looking at the sweet, innocent face in my daughter's photo—the same pleading expression she had in my dream—my heart ached.

I zipped up my suitcase. My phone buzzed.

Jody: [Okay. You drive. Let's go together.]

My heart leaped. I pulled out the photo I kept close to my chest, kissed it hard, and nearly cried from joy. "Baby, Mommy's coming to see you soon. Daddy's coming too. We'll bring you good food and your favorite dress, okay?"

Jody slept in the passenger seat. I didn't wake her until I parked at the cemetery.

But then, she looked at me in shock. "What are you doing here? Why did you bring me to a place like this? I have to go to the airport. I'm meeting a very important partner. Are you insane?"

Watching her freak out, what else was there to understand?

The message had been sent by Pete behind her back.

But thinking of my daughter's sad face, I took a deep breath, grabbed Jody's wrist, and dragged her to Chloe's grave.

"We're already here. Look at her. She misses you."

I set out the dessert and milk my daughter loved on the stone ledge. I handed Jody Chloe's favorite dress.

"You give it to her. She'll be so happy.

"Kids don't understand things. She doesn't know you let Pete kill her. So let's not tell her that. That would be too cruel."

But the next second, Jody threw the dress right in my face. She pointed at me, furious.

"What the hell are you talking about! Why would I kill my own daughter?"

"You're sick. Sick!"

She smashed the cake from the stone ledge against the headstone, shoved me to the ground, grabbed the car keys, and drove off.

I sat there on the ground until the air around me went quiet. All that was left was the sound of cream dripping down the stone.

I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to cry in front of my daughter.

"Baby, Mommy's busy with work. Don't blame her, okay?"

'You're in heaven now, my precious girl. Be carefree. But Daddy can't help hating her.'

I couldn't just leave quietly. So I canceled my plane ticket for three days later. Instead, I called my most trusted person.

"It's come to this. I can't let her run the company anymore. Find the security footage from the amusement park on the day Chloe died. And find me witnesses."

I hung up and lit myself a cigarette.

I stayed at the cemetery all night.

…

I got home the next day around noon. The swing in the yard had been cut down and replaced with an easel. The pond my daughter loved had been filled in. The red goldfish she raised were now stuffed specimens for Pete's paintings.

When she saw me frozen in the yard, Jody's face flushed with guilt. She grabbed my hand.