Seven years into my father’s affair, my mother, Cecilia, was handed a death sentence. Terminal stomach cancer. Her first act was to plead with Dr. Serena, her long-time physician, not to tell my father, Victor. Dr. Serena was so angry she wept. “Cecilia, what is this performance? Do you really think playing the noble martyr will make that scumbag regret anything?” “You’re punishing him with your death, Cee. How pathetic!” But my mother just smiled, her gaze settling on me with a gentle, terrifying softness. “I don’t want his regret,” she whispered. “I want to secure a future for my Willa.” 1. When my mother and I finally left the hospital, my father was gone. He had only left her a text message: [My time is valuable. You were five minutes late. I left.] My mother gripped the phone, momentarily frozen. I remembered the past, too. I have hemophilia, so trips to the hospital were constant growing up. My father, Victor, would always drop everything and wait patiently. My mother would tease him, “Aren’t you bored?” He’d take me from her arms and kiss her cheek, his voice full of warmth. “Never. Every second I spend waiting for you both is happiness.” I would be held between them, warm and secure, and I was happy too. My mother’s fingers trembled as she deleted the text. Then, she opened a new message to Dr. Serena: [Did you send the fake clean bill of health report to Tess?] After receiving confirmation, she led me home. My mother used to walk with a light, quick step; I could never keep up. Now, I had to support her just to keep her moving. As soon as we arrived, she rushed to the bathroom and coughed up a terrifying mouthful of blood. When she looked up, she was staring at the mirror, where our two overlapping handprints rested. The blood in the toilet was a blackish red. Panicked, I immediately called my father. There was a woman’s laugh on the other end, but I was used to it; I pretended not to hear. Sobbing, I told him that my mother had terminal stomach cancer. My father arrived quickly. He saw the violent red in the toilet bowl and immediately scooped my mother up in his arms. “Don’t panic, Cee. We’ll get a second opinion from the best doctors in the country.” “I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He’d always told her that the women outside were just flings; she was the one he truly loved. I believed he was a man of his word. But just then, the sharp click-clack of high heels echoed in the hallway. Tess, in her crisp white dress, appeared. She held her head high and slapped a piece of paper onto my father’s chest. “Victor, you’re such an idiot! Your trophy wife has played you for a fool!” “‘Terminal cancer’? It’s just a scheme to get your attention! This came from my friend at the hospital. She is perfectly healthy!” I recognized the paper. It was the fake clean bill of health my mother had asked Dr. Serena to forge. I opened my mouth to explain, but my mother gripped my hand, stopping me. I could only watch as my father’s face darkened. “Faking an illness for sympathy, then dragging Willa into your lies.” He glared at my mother. “Cecilia, you have sunk to a new low.” My father ignored my protests and stormed out, his arm wrapped around Tess. My mother watched them leave, a thin smile on her pale face. I cried hysterically. “Mom, why did you pretend you were healthy?” She sighed softly. “Because Tess is too small-minded.” “She’s too stupid to ever believe that I would be ill, or that I could out-maneuver her. So I had to feed her the evidence.” “This is how we build moral currency,” she explained. “The more guilt he carries, the more Victor will owe you, Willa.” “Besides, once Victor realizes her report was fake, he will never believe anything she presents to him again.” I didn’t understand the strategy. I only knew that my mother was dying, and I cried harder. She wiped my tears away. As she did, she began to cry too. “Victor, you’re supposed to be so smart. How could you fall for a simpleton like Tess?” My mother had been a powerful man’s mistress. My father was a poor businessman, practically begging for investment. They met across a crowded banquet hall—a rose blooming unexpectedly in rotten soil. My mother flirted with her protector and secured a massive investment and countless contracts for Victor. Later, when her protector went to prison, my father was already a titan of industry. Ignoring the scorn of everyone, he tracked down my mother, who had been passed around. There were no grand speeches. They simply got married. In their marriage, my father treated her like the most delicate, cherished woman. He bought her a French chateau, gifted her company shares, and when she was pregnant with me, he spent a fortune to buy the naming rights to a minor planet. They could have been happy forever. Until I was born. 2. Because I have hemophilia and need frequent transfusions, my father hired a secretary with my rare blood type. Her name was Tess. She was a bit clumsy and seemed sweet. My father called her my “walking blood bank.” But slowly, when Tess came to give me blood, my father’s brow would furrow with concern for her. Once, when I was in critical condition, Tess claimed she was afraid of needles, and my father actually disconnected my IV line. I nearly died that day. We were saved only because the hospital was able to contact a blood bank out of state. When I woke up, I saw my father holding Tess’s hand. He was telling my mother: “I’m sorry, Cecilia. I’m in love with Tess.” “If you accept it, you can still be my wife, and Willa will always be my only daughter.” My mother accepted the reality calmly. She said that I was sick, and if they divorced, she wouldn’t be able to afford my care. And so, my mother became the most generous wife in the city. So generous that when my father’s photos with a club girl leaked, she personally handled the PR cleanup. Each time, my father would apologize and transfer a large sum of money into my account. My mother accepted it for me and pretended nothing happened. Until a few days ago, when Tess showed up with a visible baby bump. She was pregnant with my father’s son. “The moment he looked ecstatic, I knew,” my mother said. “That baby will eventually threaten your standing. It had to be eliminated.” “And I’m almost dead anyway... I’ve been a trophy wife all my life. Using my last breaths to set up my daughter? I’m content.” As she spoke, my mother took out a brand new, expensive leather journal. A kept woman who only finished elementary school certainly didn’t have a diary-writing habit. So she had to forge one. Her fingers were swollen, barely able to hold the pen, but she wrote every word, detailing her years with Victor. When she finished, she sent the journal off to be artificially aged, then locked it in her safe. She made me memorize the combination. “When I’m gone, the day your father misses me most, you will lead him to this diary.” It took several days to forge the journal. My mother would clutch her stomach, beads of sweat dripping down her face from the pain. She gave me an Amex Black Card and asked me to buy her some powerful painkillers. It was strange—it was only September, but perfect, heavy snow was falling outside. I didn’t think about it; I just ran, slipping and falling repeatedly on the unfamiliar ice until I reached the pharmacy. I picked up the medication and swiped the card. “Beep. This card has been frozen.” I froze. This was my father’s supplemental card, always unlimited. It couldn't be frozen. I called my father immediately. But the one who answered, her voice languid and smug, was Tess. “That’s your father punishing your mother, sweetie.” “He told me to tell your mom to stop her pathetic schemes and stick to being the wife she is.” I screamed, “That’s impossible! You must have tricked him!” Tess chuckled softly, then lowered her voice. “I did. So what?” “After all, all I had to say was that my baby brother wanted to see snow, and your father spent millions on cloud-seeding to make it happen.” I looked at the bruises forming on my legs, sobbing uncontrollably. The snow that made me fall and scrape myself raw was my father’s gift to his mistress. By the time I scraped together the money from my piggy bank and bought the medicine, my mother had already passed out from the pain. I gave her the medication. She looked at my raw legs, her eyes filling with tears. I heard her call Dr. Serena. “He loves her more than I imagined,” she said, her voice strained. “I need to accumulate more moral currency for Willa. I need to die more violently.” I woke up sometime later in my mother’s bed. She was packing, breathing heavily. She tossed their wedding photo into the fireplace. Her clothes and jewelry were boxed up for sale. When she reached for the scarf she had knitted for my father with her own hands, I rushed forward to stop her. She gently kissed my cheek. “I know you love it, Willa.” “But I have to ensure you are the only thing left behind to remind him of me.” I couldn’t speak. Then, my father’s assistant called my mother. “Mrs. Victor, Mr. Victor took Ms. Tess for her checkup and the paparazzi got photos. He needs you to film an apology and clarification video immediately, to avoid impacting the company’s stock price.” 3. My mother answered flatly and skillfully set up the camera. I yelled in fury. “It’s Dad’s fault! Why does Mom have to take the blame?” “I don’t want Mom to be humiliated again!” I knocked the camera over, but my mother calmly set it back up. “Be good, Willa. The company will be yours one day.” “Protecting the stock now is protecting your future.” I still didn’t understand, but my mother's eyes were filled with profound sorrow. On camera, she was gracious and poised: “This is all a misunderstanding. Ms. Tess is an employee... my husband, Victor, simply offered a professional courtesy to take her to the doctor.” When the video was posted, the internet mocked her relentlessly. They called my mother the most subservient wife in Manhattan. But my father was pleased. He finally came home. He first swept me up, twirled me, and put a tiny flame opal on my wrist. Then he kissed my mother and gave her a deep black pendant. “This is my generous Cecilia,” he said. “Don’t worry, the card is unfrozen now.” “I wasn’t angry because you faked an illness, Cee. I was angry because you cursed yourself. We’re going to grow old together. Don’t ever say something so unlucky again, okay?” My father was so gentle. I hoped, foolishly, that he still loved us. I watched him wistfully, and suddenly, the pain in my legs faded. After he left, I happily went to my mother to admire the pendant. She laughed—a cold, humorless sound—and took it off. She stroked my head and showed me a news article on her phone. [Gem Legend! Victor Spends Millions, Cuts Massive Flame Opal, Yields Priceless Bangle!] I stared at the photo of the enormous, perfect flame opal on Tess’s wrist. Then I realized it. My tiny bangle and my mother’s pendant—together, they made up the heart of a bangle. Oh. Our gifts were the scraps. The excess material from Tess's main attraction. I was furious and wanted to confront my father. But my mother calmly called Dr. Serena, setting the date for her to take the lethal medication: their wedding anniversary. “That way, every time he celebrates his freedom, he will remember my death.” “He needs to remember me for a long, long time. Only that will benefit you, Willa.” I didn’t dare cry in front of my mother. I hid in my room and counted the days. I was going to lose her. Though she held me and said she would become a star in the sky, I was seven years old. I knew it was a lie. I couldn’t expose her; I didn’t want to cause her more pain before she died. The next few days, my mother was busy. She contacted Mr. Harrison, a key investor of my father's, and they spoke in whispers for a long time. Then she carefully chose a gown. My father was taking her to a major charity gala. Just her. No disgusting mistress. She even helped my father placate Tess. But then, she taught me how to provoke the already-soothed Tess: “He-he, so what if he gave you snow? You’re still just my dad’s plaything.” “Only my mother can be on his arm at a proper event like the Metropolitan Gala!” Tess was so easy to manipulate. She immediately took the bait. On the night of the gala, our family of three had just sat down when Tess, disguised as a staff member, appeared. She didn't say a word, just stared at my father with red-rimmed eyes. I clearly saw my father's throat bob as he swallowed. “Victor,” my mother pleaded, “this is a major event. Give me this one night.” But under the gaze of the entire room, my father patted my mother’s hand. “There are too many people here. Tess is pregnant. I’m worried she’ll be jostled.” He went to sit with his mistress. The entire room erupted in hushed whispers. My mother lowered her head, feigning humiliation. In the shadows, she gave a subtle look to Mr. Harrison. 4. I knew Mr. Harrison. He was one of my father’s biggest investors. He had once suggested my mother leave Victor and go with him. I remembered him as a gentle man. But tonight, he was rough. He rudely grabbed Tess and ordered her to have a few drinks with him. Tess panicked and refused repeatedly. My father stepped in front of her, politely saying she was pregnant and shouldn't drink. But Mr. Harrison seemed enraged. He dropped a threat: “If Victor can’t even give me this favor, then our partnership is over!” Seeing the terror in Tess’s eyes and the mortification on my father’s face, I felt a swell of triumph. I silently cheered Mr. Harrison, hoping he would give my mother more satisfaction. But the next second, I heard my father laugh. “How about this, Harrison? Let my wife keep you company for a few drinks.” “Tess may be pretty, but my Cecilia is the most beautiful woman in the city.” I was stunned. I couldn't believe these words came from my mother’s husband. My mother didn't move as my father grabbed her and pushed her toward Mr. Harrison. “It’s just a few drinks, Cee... You won’t refuse, will you?” I rushed forward to shield my mother. “My mother is sick! Dr. Serena said she can’t drink! It will kill her!” My father grabbed me by the collar and tossed me aside. He glared at my mother. “Look what you’ve taught Willa. The lies never end.” Mr. Harrison wrapped his arm around my mother and, along with several other men, started forcing drinks down her throat. My mother drank one glass after another, numbly. Mr. Harrison, however, seemed to have tears in his eyes. Finally, after an unknown number of drinks, my mother suddenly vomited blood. “Cecilia!” My father’s face changed instantly. He ran toward her. But Tess shrieked. “So much blood, Victor, I’m feeling faint...” My father hesitated for a fraction of a second. Then he turned, picked up Tess, and carried her out. “The penthouse isn’t far. I’ll take you there to rest.” The penthouse was my parents’ wedding gift. My mother cherished it and never let outsiders inside. She stared at my father, her voice weak but firm. “No! Take her anywhere, but don’t defile my home!” My father initially tried to reason with her, but my mother was immovable this time. As they wrestled their way to the apartment, Tess’s deliberate moans grew louder. In a fit of rage, my father slapped my mother. “Are you insane? It’s just a house!” “If you think it’s more important than my son, then you can rot inside it!” He shoved my mother into the penthouse, locked the door behind her, and sped away before she could chase him. Mr. Harrison, Dr. Serena, and Dr. Serena’s boyfriend, Detective Miller, waited patiently with me outside the villa. After my father’s car disappeared into the distance, we finally went inside. My mother was still coughing up huge amounts of blood. Her dress and the marble floor were stained red. Her forehead was slick with cold sweat from the pain. But she persisted, directing Mr. Harrison to set up a complicated mechanism. “It must... ensure that the moment... they make love in that bed, my body... drops down onto them.” “Don’t forget to lock the door when you leave... He has to believe I was forced to drink, then locked in and left to die with no way to call for help.” “All traces... must be eliminated with professional forensic skill.” “The infertility drug... Willa, you must find an opportunity to put it in your father’s drink once you get home.” “The report that Tess’s fetus isn’t his... is it convincing enough? Let me see it one last time.” “He must have only one heir—you, Willa. He must.” Her voice was ragged with pain. Finally, with everyone’s help, she used her last ounce of strength to climb onto the skylight mechanism. She placed a white pill in her mouth. A look of profound relief crossed her face. “No flaws,” she whispered. “Thank you, all of you.” “Willa, farewell. Mama loves you, forever loves you...” Her voice faded, until it was gone. The adults were sobbing. Mr. Harrison knelt on the floor, weeping. I was the only one who didn’t cry. I had watched my mother meticulously arrange her own death. My tears had run dry. I looked at the sunflowers in the villa’s courtyard. The manufactured snowstorm had made them wither prematurely. I sat there quietly, waiting for my father to return. The doorbell finally rang around midnight. 5. Hearing the movement, I flew to the kitchen, poured a glass of warm water, and dropped in the tasteless medication my mother had given me. When my father entered, I sweetly handed it to him. He drank it without suspicion, then finally noticed I was alone. A look of annoyance and resignation crossed his face. “Your mother hasn’t come home?” “She’s becoming impossible. To spite me, she’s abandoned her own daughter.” He pulled out his phone. My heart hammered in my chest. I thought he was going to call my mother. But the next words were: “Tess, Willa’s mother isn’t home. Come back here.” Willa’s mother... It was a mercy my mother was already dead. If she knew she no longer had a name in his mind, only a title, how much more heartbroken would she be? My eyes burned again, but I held back the tears. I slept downstairs that night. I could hear sounds from the master bedroom. “Mmm, don’t touch me. I’m carrying your son.” “It’s been three months. It should be safe.” “Nonsense. It’s two days shy of three months.” “Two days... What a coincidence. That’s an important date. I can’t be with you that day.” “What date?” My father chuckled softly and didn't answer. I copied my mother’s cynical smile. You don't need his compensation anymore, Dad. The next morning, Tess walked downstairs, her face sated. She shot a smug look at me as I quietly ate breakfast. “Enjoy your meal, darling. This house will have a new mistress soon.” I put a piece of bacon in my mouth. My voice was as gentle as my mother’s had been. “Do you know what that important date is?” The simpleton my mother had pegged him to be looked at me blankly. I smiled. “It’s my parents’ wedding anniversary.” “You see? You will never be able to replace my mother.” It was completely unsatisfying to mess with a fool. No wonder my mother never bothered with Tess before she got sick. Just that one sentence was enough to send Tess storming off to confront my father. After she left, my mother’s phone kept ringing. My father was calling her. I let the screen flash. Then he started texting. [Still angry, Cee? It’s been a night.] [Tess is just a girl, and she’s pregnant. Of course I have to take care of her more than you.] [Alright, alright. You were hurt this time. Tomorrow is our anniversary. I’ll compensate you. Deal?] He sent pictures of expensive jewelry. When there was no reply, he sent photos of luxury properties, promising she could pick one, and it would be placed in my name. I followed my mother’s instructions and sent no reply. My father seemed to grow enraged. [Cecilia, how long are you going to pout?] [Tess was just here, sweet and soft.] [If you keep this up, I’ll spend the anniversary with her!] My heart thumped. He had reached the critical point. The ‘typing’ indicator flashed for a long time. Then my father sent a voice message: “Fine, let’s see who can hold out longer!” “Forget the anniversary. I’m going to be with Tess.” “You didn’t want her in the penthouse? Good. I’m going to have a candlelight dinner with her there.” “You can figure out Willa’s medical bills yourself!” My mother had broken down his reactions step-by-step for me. But hearing it now, my heart ached with a dull, heavy pain. Did you ever love her, Dad? If you did, why would you use my health to threaten her? But it didn't matter. I texted Dr. Serena and Detective Miller. Everything is ready. On the night of the anniversary, Dr. Serena picked me up, and we waited outside the penthouse. In the darkness, we watched my father enter, his arm around Tess. Candlelight warmed the windows. Tess leaned into his shoulder, giggling. Tess flirtatiously pulled at his tie, but my father hesitated, nervously twisting his wedding ring. Detective Miller clearly read Tess’s lips through the window: “Take off the ring, Victor. Don’t you want to meet your son sooner?” That one sentence sent my father’s blood rushing. He yanked the ring off and tossed it onto the sofa. He picked up Tess and carried her upstairs. Through the faint curtain, we watched their silhouettes as they moved, step by step, toward the bed. The moment he pressed Tess down, there was a deafening CRASH. A woman’s deformed body smashed directly between them.
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