Chapter 5
In her coma, Wendy dreamed of her son standing before her, covered in blood, eyes hollow with despair. “Mommy, save me…” She raced to him, but her hands closed on empty air.
The tiny body dissolved into countless snowflakes before her eyes, vanishing into the darkness…
“No!” Wendy jolted awake, drenched in cold sweat.
“It’s all your fault! You forced Wendy to drink, making me the bad guy!” Lena’s sobbing voice came from outside the door.
Through the crack, Wendy saw Lena pounding Ethan’s chest.
Instead of anger, he pressed her hand to his heart, voice tender, “Sweetheart, better Wendy gets hurt than you. I am waiting for you to give birth to our baby.” His hand slid under Lena’s skirt, caressing her thigh.
“Naughty! Where are you touching?” Lena giggled.
Ethan’s Adam’s apple bobbed, desire obvious. “It’s been five months–just let me touch… Don’t hide…”
Wendy froze, stomach churning. She turned away from the filthy scene, eyes landing on her son’s photo. Clutching the frame, she pressed her face to it, silent tears streaming. Lucas, I am sorry. I was too weak.
When the sounds faded, Wendy opened the door. By the courtyard, Lena hummed while sprinkling white powder on flower beds and corners.
“What are you doing?” Wendy demanded, vigilant.
Lena jumped, turning with a cheerful smile, “Wendy, you’re awake? There’ve been too many pests lately. Last time I mistook lime for milk powder- oops! This time I remembered.” She shook the jar, proud. See? Sprinkling lime keeps bugs out so they won’t scare you.‘
—vivisected by his
Wendy’s gaze snapped to the jar, blood rushing to her head. Lime? She was sprinkling her son’s ashes like insect repellent! Her son- father, now even his ashes were desecrated like trash.
“Ahhhh!” A feral scream tore from Wendy’s throat. She lunged, slapping Lena’s smug face. “Bitch! You did this on purpose!”
“Wendy!” Lena covered her cheek, eyes welling. “I always think of you, but you keep picking on me!”
As Wendy raised her hand again, her wrist was yanked back, sending her sprawling. Her palm scraped gravel, blood mixing with her son’s ashes, sticky and cold. Ethan loomed over her, voice murderous, “How many times, Wendy? When will you stop?”
Wendy lifted her head, trembling fingers pointing to the white powder, voice broken, “Do you know what she’s spreading? It’s-
“I don’t care!” Ethan barked “If Lena likes it, she can spread whatever she wants.”
Meeting his hateful gaze, Wendy lost the strength to speak the truth. What was the point? Would he believe her? Or did he just not care? She rose slowly to leave, but Ethan blocked her, “Who said you could go? You think you can hit Lena and walk away?”
“What more do you want?” Wendy looked at him coldly.
He glanced at the aggrieved Lena, then at the urn in Wendy’s arms, and said to Lena, “She treasures this thing, doesn’t she? Throw it in her face.” Lena covered her mouth in fear, voice trembling, “Ethan, I dare not…”
ཎྜ གཽ སྒྲ ཚ ཕ ཐ འན ཇ ཐ
“Don’t be afraid. I will help you!” Ethan grabbed Lena’s wrist, forcing her to scoop up a handful of ashes and hurl them at Wendy’s face.
“No!!” Wendy stretched out desperately to catch the powder, but her hands closed on nothing. The fluttering ashes floated in the air, sticking to her hair, eyes, and choking her nose and mouth.
That was her son, the apple of her eye! The last trace of him in this world.
Despite Wendy’s pleas, each handful Ethan threw chilled her heart further. Finally, she collapsed to her knees. “I was wrong! Stop throwing! I beg you!” She kowtowed wildly, blood seeping from her forehead, but she felt no pain.
Ethan just watched coldly, his thin lips uttering two words, “Too late.” He lifted the urn and poured all the ashes over her head, laughing. “This is your punishment for disobeying me!”
Wendy’s sobs stopped abruptly. She remained kneeling, motionless, forehead against the cold ground. Sticky blood mixed with her son’s ashes blinded her eyes. Suddenly, she laughed like a madwoman. “Gone… It’s all gone…”
She looked up to see Ethan carry Lena in his arms, stepping on the ashes and leaving glaring footprints. Ethan, when you find out you’ve lost both your wife and son, what expression will you have? I’ll make you live in regret for the rest of your life…
Chapter 5
Slowly, she reached into her bosom, took out the third pill, and swallowed it. Gazing at the messy ground, she seemed to see the Ethan she once knew— proud back bent in prayer, crawling on bleeding knees up the cathedral steps, a baptismal cross clutched tight in his hands as he begged the saints for
mercy.
“Heavenly Father, grant my son a full life!”
“God Almighty, spare my
child!”
