CHAPTER 131: CHAPTER 131: THE DIVORCE CASE FINALLY GOES TO COURT—FACE-SLAPPING THE MISTRESS! [CLIMAX]

"Does it hurt?"

His voice was low and mellow, completely different from how Julian Sinclair had been in the soundstage earlier.

I gradually let my guard down, shook my head slightly, and said, "It’s okay."

Julian gave a soft hum, gently chiding me, "Didn’t expect it, you’re pretty gutsy."

I let out a laugh, saying, "I didn’t expect Attorney Sinclair to be so ruthless either."

Julian’s face darkened a bit, and he asked, "Scared now?"

I was stunned for a second, not sure what he meant by "scared".

To be fair, I’d already been a little afraid of him before this.

Thinking of Raina, I asked, "Did you know all along about Mr. Hawthorne and Raina?"

Julian responded with a nonchalant "Mm".

No wonder Mason Hawthorne had suggested that to me earlier.

And looking at Julian’s attitude, it’s like he thinks what Mason and Raina did is perfectly normal.

So, did he do the same thing?

Just then, Jenna called, and I remembered I still hadn’t picked up the kids.

Thinking about my current state, with wounds still on my face, I was afraid of scaring them.

So I asked Jenna to take care of them for a few days.

Jenna could tell something was off from my voice, and asked, "What happened?"

"It’s nothing, just too much going on recently, I don’t have time to look after them."

I made up an excuse, and Jenna bought it.

She chuckled and said, "Perfect, I’ve been living with Ezra Payne lately, he can use the training for being a stay-at-home dad."

After the call, Julian drove me home.

Probably to avoid suspicion, or maybe he remembered he’s still Timothy’s lawyer, so he only dropped me off downstairs and left.

I got home absolutely exhausted, took a shower, then collapsed onto bed with a long sigh of relief.

In the middle of the night, the endless ringing of my phone woke me up.

It was Vera calling.

Because those explicit photos of Raina and Mason Hawthorne had already been posted online, censored, but identical to the ones Vera got earlier today.

Vera gritted her teeth and said, "This—it’s either Mrs. Hawthorne or Serena Sawyer behind this shit!"

I remembered Julian had someone take nudes of Jessica Young too. Logically speaking, for her own reputation, she shouldn’t dare make a move.

So, Serena was the top suspect.

I was breaking it down for Vera when she suddenly cursed, "Fuck!"

"What’s wrong?"

I was confused.

Vera spat, "Serena is honestly shameless! She just made a mess of Raina’s reputation, and in the middle of the night gets her agent to contact me. I mean, now that Raina’s image is ruined, our show is basically dead in the water. She had the nerve to ask if we could use AI face swap tech, put her face on Raina’s body, so she can star in both shows and make a comeback!"

What Serena just pulled seriously disgusted me to my core.

I asked, "So what about Raina, how is she now?"

"How do you think she’s doing? Her career’s over! She hasn’t answered the phone, probably still with Mason."

Talking about this made Vera even angrier, "Useless idiot, gave up a promising career just to be some canary. And now, she’s dragged us all down with her!"

I couldn’t help but remember the look in Raina’s eyes when she got caught by Mrs. Hawthorne today.

It wasn’t the kind of provocation I saw in Serena, but more of this faint helplessness and despair.

I know, a mistress is a mistress, but I just couldn’t join Vera in tearing her apart.

After all, the comments on X had already drowned out Raina’s account—full-on cyberbullying, absolutely terrifying.

Thinking about Serena’s tactics, I said to Vera, "Even without Raina, there are so many actresses out there, but anyone would be better than Serena! Just not her!"

Vera’s tone got a bit anxious, "Yeah, I know, I’ll hang up now and try to figure something out. Tonight’s gonna be sleepless."

I didn’t sleep either, just kept refreshing the online buzz all night.

And Serena wasn’t the only one watching the female lead position.

On the night of Raina’s scandal, tons of actresses had already approached us, wanting to replace her.

It wasn’t until daylight that the gossip finally died down a bit, and photos on various sites started disappearing.

I’m guessing that was Mason working behind the scenes.

...

I thought after the heat died down, we could finally catch our breath.

But then, Vera called me again.

Her tone was tinged with helplessness and compromise, "Zoe, maybe...maybe we really should consider Serena Sawyer."

I was instantly shocked. "Why?" I demanded.

Vera sighed, "President Xavier personally contacted me today, insisted on letting Serena join with capital. Look—if we turn her down, we’ll have to pay big money for someone else to take Raina’s part, and that would seriously increase our cost! Even if this show airs, it might not pay off! But if we let Serena invest, President Xavier promised to cover all the losses. If we make money, it’s ours; if we lose, it’s on him."

"No way."

I immediately shot back, "Absolutely not Serena! Her reputation’s crap too. I don’t get what’s the point of using her?"

Vera said word by word, "The point is we need to make money; we’re not filming for charity! And besides, Serena’s reputation was bad, but now she got a ton of sympathy for her miscarriage. Plus, her drama with President Xavier is all over the place. We could totally ride that hype."

"I don’t agree."

I knew I couldn’t find a magic way out right now.

But seeing something I slaved over in Serena’s hands, I’d die before letting that happen!

Vera was already at the end of her rope, her voice harsh, "You have three days. Either get more funding from Sinclair Group HQ or go with my plan. I’ve set a meeting with Serena’s studio three days from now at The Sovereign Hotel. If you don’t come up with something by then, I’m signing her. Zoe Ellison, this show isn’t just yours. You can’t make all of us eat the loss with you!"

After Vera’s call, I felt the pressure closing in from all sides, so heavy I could barely breathe.

In just two days, the crew group chat was a dumpster fire.

Even though everyone despised Serena’s methods, for the sake of money, they were ready to go with Hannah’s proposal and let Serena replace Raina.

And Serena herself had already hinted on X that she was about to land Raina’s lead role.

I knew Vera had clearly given her some sort of private green light, told her something on the side.

The comment section was full of Serena’s stans:

"My queen is finally redeemed, ready to shine! It was all the Ainsworth Bitch’s PR sabotaging her, now it’s their turn to eat shit!"

"So hyped, Serena’s got two leading roles at once, next year she’s definitely winning Best Actress!"

"Crying! Serena just had a miscarriage and is back to filming? President Xavier, step up and marry her already! We’re all waiting!"

"Ainsworth Bitch, homewrecker, totally deserves her karma! Just watch our Serena marry into the rich and become Mrs. Xavier!"

"..."

Scrolling these comments, I felt rage burning up inside me.

No way can I let Serena ruin my script.

Right then, something clicked in my mind.

Raina is Mason Hawthorne’s woman—this all happened because of him.

Now Serena’s trampling all over Raina, is he just going to sit there and do nothing?

Just as I thought that, Mason called me.

He asked how things were going with the crew, then said, "The show’s biggest investor is The Sinclair Group. You should go to Julian. If you go to him, he’ll agree. Money’s the least of his worries."

"Mr. Hawthorne, get this straight—this mess is on you."

I said coldly, "President Sinclair’s already helped me too much, I can’t keep running to him! Besides, your woman gets bullied, and you just ghost out and let him clean up your shit. You think that’s okay?"

Mason let out a laugh, "Miss Ellison, you’re so protective. Look at you, already fighting Julian’s battles now."

I had no patience for his jokes, "So, Mr. Hawthorne, you’re just going to turtle up? Forget it then, we’ve got nothing to talk about." I was about to hang up.

Mason said, "Wait! Did I say I’m not helping?"

I saw a glimmer of hope, afraid he’d back out, quickly pressed him, "So what’s your plan, Mr. Hawthorne?"

Mason’s voice turned steely, "Serena did this to Raina and wants to profit from it? Over my dead body. Whatever Timothy Xavier invests, I’ll put in double."

Hearing that, I finally felt solid ground under my feet.

With funding sorted, Vera and the others would have nothing to say.

I said, "Are you free tomorrow, Mr. Hawthorne? They’re meeting Serena at The Sovereign Hotel at 6pm to sign."

Mason replied, "Alright, I’ll be there. Get the contract ready."

After hanging up, I scrolled through Serena’s cocky posts on X, feeling the irony deep in my bones.

But for now, I didn’t tell Vera about the new investor I’d found.

Serena has been jumping around far too long, and I’ve put up with her long enough. This time, I’ll show her she’s just a clown.

...

The next day, Vera was certain I hadn’t figured anything out, and told me, "Tonight I’m signing Serena. Any objections?"

"Nope. I’ll be there tonight too."

I kept my tone calm, no more butting heads with her like before.

Vera paused, then breathed a sigh of relief. "Looks like you finally see reason! Good, good! Doesn’t matter what kind of person Serena is—money comes first, we’re just business partners. You just keep a friendly face tonight, don’t piss anyone off."

I agreed, and truth be told, I was dying to see Serena’s face when she learned I was the original author of this story.

...

That night, I did my makeup extra carefully, got all dressed up, and headed to The Sovereign Hotel.

Serena was already there with Timothy when I arrived.

Ha, so this guy’s stopped caring about his own daughter, but bends over backwards for Serena.

I didn’t walk in immediately. Through the slightly open door, I saw Vera and the others sucking up to Timothy, pouring him drinks.

The other investors chimed in:

"Looks like President Xavier and Miss Sawyer have some good news to share!"

"Miss Sawyer is such a professional! All that drama, and she bounced back to work this fast."

"Let us know when you’re throwing the wedding banquet, Miss Sawyer!"

Serena was absolutely basking, not the slightest hint of misery about her miscarriage.

She grinned at the investors, "Thank you all for giving me this chance. I won’t let you down. Raina’s scandal broke my heart, but I’ll do the role justice and fulfill her wish."

What a pile of pretty words from her, delivered with a straight face, not a flicker of shame.

Vera had already pulled out the contract, "How about we sign first, then eat?"

"Great, let’s sign. Seal the deal."

Serena’s tone betrayed her eagerness.

Right as they picked up their pens, I burst in, "Wait!"

Everyone turned to look at me.

Timothy and Serena both looked shocked, clearly not expecting me to show up.

Vera, not knowing my real reason for being there, smiled, "Let me introduce you—this is our script’s original author, Zoe Ellison."

I sat down, half-smiling, "Sorry I’m late."

Serena’s smile froze instantly. Timothy was totally dumbstruck.

Vera hadn’t realized something was up, "What took you so long?"

"Something came up on the way."

I smiled, eyes trained on Timothy and Serena, enjoying their epic faces.

Timothy glared at me, as if accusing me of pulling off something huge behind his back, so tight not a word had leaked out.

Serena must have recalled how, back during her auditions, she’d slapped me again and again; the times she’d begged and scraped to play a role in my drama; how I’d run her in circles, made her practice skating.

At this moment, Serena could barely keep it together, her voice trembled with anger, "So the whole time, the ’writer’ your team talked to was you?"

"That’s right, Miss Sawyer." I smiled mockingly, "Who would’ve thought, you’d stoop so low—just for a little part in my show, you were willing to do anything."

Thinking of those times she groveled, calling me "Vera," "Ms. Vera"—her face now turned green and white.

Vera noticed something was wrong, whispered urgently, "Don’t tell me—you’re here to mess this up?"

I replied quietly, "Whose deal? This is our show, isn’t it? In my own house, why should I take crap from anyone else?"

Then I turned to Serena, "Miss Sawyer, you couldn’t even pull off a supporting role in my book, and now you want the lead? Do you really think you’re good enough? This character gets her husband stolen by a mistress—can you act that pain?"

Serena stayed quiet, holding back hard enough to keep from flipping the table right then.

Timothy, at least, was used to big scenes. He accepted that I was the original writer, got right to business: "Vera, we already agreed to sign tonight. So, what’s this about? Don’t forget, I paid a deposit—a break of contract means you owe ten times the deposit. That’s five mil."

Vera’s face changed, immediately squeezed out a smile, "President Xavier, it’s a misunderstanding! Our writer’s just out of it today. I’ll have her leave, and we’ll stick to the original plan."

But Serena suddenly jumped in, all righteous indignation, "No way! I want Zoe Ellison to apologize, right now! What she said just now hurt my dignity!"

Timothy didn’t try to stop her, so Serena got even more aggressive.

She stared at me, "Miss Ellison, if you don’t apologize, I’m not signing. You can pay the five million breach fee!"

I narrowed my eyes, "You’re a beggar complaining the food is rotten? Who was it dying for a role in my script? Serena, do you want me to spill all your dirty secrets right here?"

Timothy barked at me, "Zoe Ellison, that’s enough!"

"Then take your lady and get lost. I really can’t tell where ’enough’ even starts."

After I finished, everyone looked at me like I was crazy, ready to cut off their money.

Vera couldn’t hold back anymore, and yelled at me, "Zoe Ellison! What the hell are you doing? Apologize to Miss Sawyer! Or you’ll be breaking contract—who’s paying that five mil?"

As soon as she said that, Mason’s voice rang out, "I will!"

Then the door swung open.

No one expected the man tangled in rumors with Raina to be here in person.

Mason glanced at Serena and Timothy, then looked at me, "Screenwriter Ellison, I’m here to sign. Tell me the investment and the break fee. I’ll cover it all together."

Timothy and Serena’s faces were nasty as hell.

Timothy had never been this thoroughly embarrassed in public. He snarked, "President Hawthorne, you’re the talk of showbiz these days. Bold of you to show your face."

I laughed, "President Xavier, everyone moves in the same circles. Who knows, maybe you’ll be the tabloid darling tomorrow?"

Timothy clearly realized I was taking a shot at him and Serena.

Then I turned to Vera, "President Hawthorne is our new investor. Anyone but Serena can replace Raina as the lead. Otherwise, this show is straight-up trash."

That did it. Serena bolted, storming out the door.

Timothy hurried after her.

Mason snorted, meaningfully, "President Xavier sure is a sucker for a pretty face."

Just like that, Mason signed the contract with us that very night, and we gave the female lead role to one of Raina’s industry friends.

This actress was classically trained, her acting so much better than Serena’s.

Vera looked a little embarrassed, said to me, "Sorry, Zoe. I got too greedy; money got to my head."

"No, not ’got to your head’—money’s all you were seeing!"

I rolled my eyes at her, but softened, "Still, I don’t blame you. As producer, you’ve got way more on your shoulders than the rest of us."

Vera said, "Glad you understand. It’s really late, you should go home! With this settled, you can finally get a good night’s sleep."

"Thanks."

When I left the office, I planned to pick the kids up from Jenna’s.

But it was already past ten, and by then they’d be asleep anyway.

I decided to get them after school tomorrow.

Once I got home, I showered off all the exhaustion, and finally had my first good night’s sleep in days.

...

The next day, I left work early to go to the kindergarten.

But I didn’t expect Timothy’s car to be there too.

I frowned, "What are you doing here?"

"Picking up Doris."

He shot me a cold look, "Zoe Ellison, you’re really something—did all this, kept it hidden for so long, played all of us. Satisfied now? Proud of yourself?"

I laughed, "I remember you said Serena fought her way out of the entertainment industry while I was useless. But even someone as ’worthless’ as me still ran circles around you and Serena, didn’t I?"

That totally stung Timothy.

He said, word for word, "You’ve gone too far! Always scheming, openly and secretly targeting Serena, even her child wasn’t spared. Think you can do whatever you want because Sinclair’s got your back? Don’t forget—he’s my divorce lawyer!"

I fell silent.

Right now, that was the only way Timothy could hurt me.

Anything else he did, said, whatever, none of it would touch me anymore.

Right then, Doris and Sharon came out hand in hand, spotted me, and ran over.

I grabbed them both, asked, "Have you been good at Auntie Jenna’s lately?"

The two little ones nodded like crazy, "Of course! Uncle Payne and Auntie Jenna love us!"

Doris clung to me and never even noticed Timothy standing next to me.

He had to take the initiative, "Doris."

Doris blinked, then looked up, "Daddy, why are you here?"

Timothy told the driver to bring out the stuff from the car.

In a flash, he was carrying a big bag of blind boxes and holding a pink doll, setting them in front of his daughter.

"Daddy missed you."

He squatted down, gently, "Honey, come home with Daddy, okay? I’m not angry about what you did before. Just don’t do it again, that’s all."

But as soon as he said that, Doris edged closer to me and, full of indignation, said, "If you want me to go home, you have to kick out that bad woman, and have her apologize to my mommy and me. You have to apologize too! Grandma has to apologize! Everybody has to bow and say sorry!"

Timothy didn’t expect this answer at all. He stood, scowling at me, "I put everything into raising this daughter, and you’re raising her into a sassy brat!"

I let out a cold laugh, "Timothy, all your energy went into helping Serena network, steal other people’s roles, and smear reputations! You know exactly how much time you spent on your daughter!"

Timothy said each word slow and clear, "Serena lost a child for me—that’s something I owe her! Zoe, you and Doris owe her too!"

I replied, "Whatever you owe her, pay her back yourself. My daughter and I, we don’t owe her a damn thing!"

Doris tugged on my hand, "Mommy, he’s a silly dad. Let’s just ignore him! I’m hungry, what’s for dinner?"

I didn’t spare Timothy another glance, took the kids and headed for the car.

...

Zoe’s car pulled away slowly while Timothy stayed frozen on the curb, staring after the shrinking tail lights, unable to look away.

Suddenly, a terrifying sense of loneliness hit him.

Doris used to be so dependent on him, and now she wouldn’t even give him a look, just left with Zoe.

The mother and daughter looked so happy together.

She’d barely even reconnected with Zoe, and already Timothy had been pushed out of their world entirely.

A heavy pain welled up in his chest.

Doris being like this now—this was all Zoe’s doing.

If this kept up, his daughter would soon forget him for good!

Timothy sucked in a deep breath, forced down his agitation, and called Julian Sinclair’s number.

The line rang forever, and eventually got hung up on.

How could he forget? Julian never once took his calls directly.

It was always his assistant who called back.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Leo Grant called.

Timothy was thoroughly sick of Julian’s attitude and arrogance.

But thinking of more important things, he checked his anger and answered.

"President Xavier, how can I help you?"

Leo’s tone was all business. Julian had instructed: with Timothy, don’t bother with politeness.

"I’m filing for divorce," Timothy said at breakneck speed, absolutely unyielding. "I’ve already checked with Xavier Group’s legal team—this is my first time filing; there’s no need to wait six months. Tell Attorney Sinclair to get the paperwork ready and submit it to the court ASAP."

Leo paused, surprised. "So soon? Did something happen?"

Timothy sneered, loaded with bile, "Why else? Clearing the way for your Attorney Sinclair! So he’s not pining after another man’s wife anymore, make it nice and proper."

Before Leo could reply, he went on, "But I get custody. Attorney Sinclair claims to be the ’Grim Reaper’ among lawyers, right? If he loses such a simple case, he’ll be a joke in the field!"

Leo gripped the phone, secretly nervous for Zoe.

Timothy was playing real dirty now.

If Julian actually helped him win custody, Zoe would never be able to be with Julian, even after the divorce.

This wasn’t just divorce—he wanted to utterly ruin Zoe and Julian’s chances.

After the call, Leo went straight to Julian’s office to report everything.

Julian was silent for a while, then asked, "He still doesn’t know about Zoe’s depression, right?"

"No, I haven’t mentioned it."

Leo nodded, then suddenly realized, staring at Julian in surprise and worry.

Judging from the boss’s tone, was he planning to hide that evidence for Zoe?

You have to understand—what Julian was considering was absolutely forbidden for a lawyer.

A lawyer helping the opposing party hurt their own client was like a surgeon deliberately botching a patient in the OR.

Word gets out, not only would he be blacklisted, but his reputation would be dirt—totally infamous!

There’s no way Julian wouldn’t know that.

Leo was about to argue when Julian cut him off, "I know what you want to say."

"So you..." Leo tried to push back.

"Go," Julian cut him off again. He didn’t explain further, nor did he confirm if he’d help Zoe hide that evidence.

Leo was confused but dared not ask more. He could only start preparing the divorce paperwork as requested by Timothy.

...

At home.

Since Doris and Sharon came back from Jenna’s, they were always playing doctor and patient games.

Ezra Payne had bought them all kinds of realistic kids’ medical toys, even white uniforms for children.

The two kids were having the time of their lives.

I was writing my new book nearby, but their laughter didn’t bother me at all.

I really enjoyed these moments of contentment and warmth—so this is what people mean by "tranquil times."

Until that day, when I got a call from our lawyer, Hannah Quincy.

"Miss Ellison, Timothy Xavier has filed for divorce; the court hearing is next Wednesday."

Hannah’s tone was grave, "They’ve hired Julian Sinclair. I...I can’t guarantee how much benefit I can get you in this case. After all, Attorney Sinclair is the opponent."

I couldn’t help clenching my phone.

Looks like Timothy couldn’t wait to take Doris away.

I told Hannah about Julian’s investigation into my depression; upon hearing that, she got even gloomier, "That’s a problem. Now that both of you want to divorce, the marriage will definitely end. But custody...it’ll be tough."

Before, I’d have felt relief, finally getting free of Timothy.

But now I know—my days with Doris are ticking down.

Even so, I don’t want to keep dragging things out with Timothy.

I figure, Doris can tell right from wrong now, and there are so many ways for us to stay in touch.

Even if Timothy gets custody, if anything happens, Doris will let me know.

And in a few years, she’ll be allowed to choose her guardian herself.

I kept desperately clinging to these reassurances.

But watching Doris and Sharon giggling on the rug, my heart ached so badly.

That’s when Doris noticed my red eyes and ran over, worried, "Mommy, who was on the phone? Why are you crying?"

Her chubby little hand wiped at my eyes, "Did Daddy bully you again? I’ll scold him for you. Don’t cry."

"I’m fine."

I took a deep breath, and tried gently, "Doris, tell Mommy—if Daddy admits he was wrong, would you go back to him? You still love him deep down, right?"

Doris hesitated, then whispered, "If I say I love Daddy, too, will you be mad?"

"Of course not."

I caressed her chubby cheeks, "Your daddy treats you well. Loving him is normal. It just means you’re a grateful kid."

Doris looked at me blankly, "But now...I love both Daddy and Mommy! I won’t let Daddy or that bad woman bully you."

I went on, "So...do you still want to go live with Daddy?"

Doris froze, her bright eyes on me, "Do you...not want me anymore either?"

She said "either".

Yeah, when Serena set her up, that was Doris’s first taste of abandonment.

So now Doris was ultra-sensitive.

She clung to me, "Mommy, am I too naughty? Am I not as good as Sharon?"

"No, Mommy would never think that!"

I hugged her close, scared she’d overthink things.

Doris snuggled up like a kitten, "Mommy, if Grandma and that bad woman are still at home, I never want to go back. Grandma’s too scary, and the bad woman’s scary too. If they have a baby boy, they won’t want me. But you’ll never not want me, right?"

I choked up, could barely get the words out.

It’s not that I don’t want you, it’s that I can’t...

Holding back tears, I whispered, "Right, Mommy will never not want you. Now go play with Sharon, and I’ll make you guys some juice."

"Okay."

Doris ran back to the sofa, all smiles, not knowing our time together was running out.

I went into the kitchen, and the tears overflowed, unstoppable.

...

For the next few days, I kept clinging to a sliver of hope, thinking: Should I find Julian one more time?

Beg him—just please, let me keep my daughter?

But every time I picked up the phone, the words just wouldn’t come.

I was asking too much.

He didn’t owe me anything—what right did I have to ask him for this, for that?

Then the day before court, Doris got a fever.

The little girl crawled into my bed, cuddled close, "Mommy, can I sleep with you?"

Sick kids are always clingy. She snuggled up, holding my arm, "Mommy, you smell so nice. I love you so much..."

Her voice was soft and sticky, making my heart clench in pain.

Then Doris mumbled, "Mommy, you’re hugging me so tight, I can’t breathe."

Then I realized—I’d been gripping her as if she might slip away at any second.

"Sorry, I didn’t notice."

I loosened my hold a bit, and even though Doris felt sick, she sounded chipper, "I know, you hug me so tight because you love me! Mommy, I’m your favorite person, right?"

"Of course."

I answered, gently patting her.

It wasn’t long before I felt her breathing even out—she’d fallen asleep.

I got up quietly, summoned my courage, and called Julian Sinclair.

But he didn’t pick up.

I called several more times, but still nothing.

That had never happened before.

I knew—that was his silent refusal.

In the adult world, some things don’t need to be said. We both understand.

I couldn’t imagine standing in court with Julian on the other side, watching him help Timothy take away the only thing I care about.

...

Sleepless all night.

The next morning, Jenna showed up early.

Our hearing was scheduled for 10:30 a.m.

The kids needed someone at home with them.

Jenna had no idea Timothy planned to fight me for Doris. She even sounded cheerful, "You know, congrats in advance! Finally rid of that dog of a man—now you and your two little girls, you’ll be living large! Find a man if you want; if not, just the three of you, not lonely at all. Sounds straight-up amazing!"

I forced a smile, didn’t say much, and went to the closet and picked out an all-black dress—like I was heading to a funeral for my four-year marriage to Timothy.

Jenna clicked her tongue at the side, "Sure, black is classy. If it were me, I’d go full red! It’s a happy day, right?"

Silently, I thought—if Doris isn’t taken away, today really would be worth celebrating.

"This will do."

I had no heart to dress up, nor to change dresses.

As I left, the kids had no idea where I was going.

Especially Doris, sick and frail, clung to me, "Mommy, kisses!"

I kissed her cheek. She grabbed my neck and kissed me back, "Mommy, come back soon, okay? Bring me another blind box, please?"

"Okay."

Looking at her, waves of sorrow washed over me.

Jenna had no idea that after today, Doris would belong to Timothy.

She even joked, "Aww, look at that mother-daughter mush fest. After today, you two can be as clingy as you want. Let her go now—you’re gonna be late."

I said my goodbyes and left.

Driving to court, my phone pinged a notification.

This particular alert was from the tiny monitor I’d hidden in my mom’s hospital room.

Anytime someone came in, the connected phone would notify me.

I’d only installed this after traces of Naomi showed up, hoping to catch proof she was alive if she ever came by again.

But since then, every single alert was just nurses and doctors—no sign of Naomi.

But today, when I pulled up the feed, I was floored.

It was the same woman as last time—slim, tall, wearing a mask—who’d entered my mom’s hospital room.

Naomi?

She finally showed up!

She squatted by my mother’s bedside, holding her hand, but doing nothing else.

My heart was in my throat—this figure looked just like the one I glimpsed that day outside Mom’s room.

I instantly U-turned the car and sped toward the hospital.

On the way, I kept that live feed open, flooring the gas.

First, in case she hurt my mom; second, because if I arrived a second late, she’d slip away again.