Chapter 1
After five backbreaking years of hauling coffins, I finally scraped together enough money for my son's treatment. I raced home without a single stop, my heart pounding at the thought of surprising my family. That was when I caught the hospital director groveling to my husband.
"Ms. Reed claims she will pay soon," the director said. "Do we keep cooking the books?"
Joel Chase rolled up his sleeve and revealed a watch worth more than the entire hospital. "No need," he replied. "She has been through hell. She did not even tell us when she broke her leg."
My so-called best friend Tessa Wilde cut in, her voice sharp with suspicion. "Joel, what if this is an act?" she asked. "The Chase fortune could tempt anyone." She smirked and added, "Besides, Lucian might hate living with Sylvia Reed."
Our six-year-old, Lucian Chase, clung to Tessa, his lips curled in disdain. "She is bad luck," he declared. "I would never live with her!" Then, sweet as syrup, he turned to Tessa and said, "Miss Wilde, why can't you be my mom?"
My husband paused for a moment. Then he chuckled, and his eyes crinkled as he looked at them. "Let us string her along for another six months," he said.
The gifts in my hands fell into the trash with a loud thud.
There would be no more games. I would vanish before they could even blink.
My phone blared with a harsh ring. "Ms. Reed, your debt is at two hundred thousand dollars," a voice said. "Pay it right now."
"Understood," I replied in a flat, stone-like voice.
The clerk stammered, clearly thrown off. "The deadline is tomorrow," he said. "Do not dawdle!" But my groveling days were already over.
Then his voice slithered out from behind me. "Sylvia?" Joel said. "You are back early." Panic flickered in his eyes.
"I missed you," I said. The lie tasted like ash on my tongue.
"Call first next time," he said. His smile did not reach his eyes.
I nodded like the perfect wife. This would be my last act.
I followed him inside, and my heart, which had once fluttered, froze mid-beat. The door swung open, and there was Lucian giggling as Tessa tickled him. Their laughter tangled together like vines, and the scene had mother and son written all over it.
This time, I did not reach for him.
He had always flinched away from my touch. I had blamed the sickness for that. I vowed to cure his illness no matter what, hauling coffins at least three times a day and breaking my back just to earn a few extra bucks.
Yet my son's hateful words kept ringing in my ears. He was calling his own mother bad luck.
When Lucian saw that I was not approaching him, he let out a quiet sigh of relief.
He was just a kid who could not hide what he felt, and his dislike was written all over his face.
My fingers clenched around the frayed canvas bag as I pretended not to notice.
Disappointment hit me like a ton of bricks, and it nearly shattered the forced smile I struggled to keep up.
Beside me, Tessa gave me a smug look. Fake concern oozed from her voice. "Sylvia, do not take it personally," she said. "Kids just get shy around strangers."
Strangers? Please. We had just met the other week.
The jig was up. There was no way I could keep pretending that my child was blameless.
Most coffin-carrying jobs were in remote Mount Raven, so I had no way to care for him every day.
But Tessa had volunteered to help, a kindness that once moved me to tears.
I had even vowed that she would be his godmother.
As she stood up, her elbow knocked over a glass, and water spilled across the tabletop.
Before the first drop hit the table, Joel was already handing her a towel at her murmured word "Julian."
Their wordless understanding cut me out completely.
I bit down hard on my cheek until the coppery taste of blood flooded my mouth.
