Chapter 3

Mark didn't come home that night.

He finally showed up the next afternoon, reeking of expensive perfume.

Maybe he felt guilty about screaming at me in front of everyone the night before. Or maybe his conscience just managed a weak flicker.

He was holding a box of my favorite pastries, a rare gesture.

"Alright, let's forget about last night," he said, taking a seat on the sofa with his usual arrogant tone. "This weekend, I'm taking you and Leo to the coast.

“Hasn't he been begging to go whale watching? I chartered a yacht."

I was in the bedroom, quietly folding Leo's favorite clothes.

Mark pushed the door open, letting in a draft.

Leo's framed photo sat on the nightstand. I quickly flipped it face down before he could see it.

"What are you doing here? The place feels like a crypt," Mark muttered, stepping toward the window to pull back the heavy curtains.

"Don't touch them!" I screamed, bolting forward to block him.

Startled by my sudden outburst, his expression turned foul.

"Sarah, what is wrong with you? You've been acting insane lately."

His eyes scanned the room, landing on something near the wastebasket.

It was Leo's favorite superhero figurine, missing an arm.

Leo had been clutching it tightly during the crash. I had scrubbed the blood off, but faint, dark stains still discolored the plastic.

"Why are you keeping this junk?" Mark picked it up, preparing to toss it into the trash. "Just buy him a new one. Is the Sterling family broke?"

"Drop it!" I lunged at him like a wild animal.

I bit down hard on his wrist. Pain forced him to let go.

I caught the broken toy as it fell, pulling it tight against my chest while curling into a ball on the floor.

"It's his life... this was his whole life..." I babbled, my thoughts scattered.

Mark stared at the bloody teeth marks on his wrist, livid. "You're completely out of your mind! Throwing a fit over a broken plastic toy?

"You've been cooped up in this house for too long. You're losing it."

Right then, his phone rang.

It was Chloe.

Even without the speakerphone on, I could hear her whimpering from through the phone.

"Mark... My car broke down on the highway. It's pouring rain and I'm terrified..."

Mark's eyes softened instantly.

Without another glance at me, he grabbed his keys and headed for the door.

"Don't worry, Chloe. I'm on my way."

At the doorway, he paused to throw a look of utter disgust over his shoulder.

"Look at yourself, you're a hysterical mess. Don't scare our son with this behavior. I won't be back tonight. Get a grip."

The front door slammed shut.

I sat on the freezing floor, clutching the broken figurine.

The house was dead silent.

Mark was right about one thing. The room really did feel like a crypt.

Because inside it lived a ghost and a heart that had bled out two months ago.

I pulled out my phone and typed a quick message to Julian.

[Is everything ready?]

His reply came back almost instantly.

[Whenever you are.]

A bitter laugh escaped my throat as I remembered the night before Leo passed.

He had squeezed my hand from his hospital bed and asked, "Mommy, does Daddy not love me anymore?"

I had lied to comfort him. "Daddy is just busy with work, sweetie."

Now, I wished I could tell him the truth.

My baby, your father wasn't busy.

He just didn't have a heart.

I grabbed a clean sheet of paper and began writing out the divorce agreement, word by word, painfully.