Chapter 3
563 Words
A crushing wave of panic consumed me when I saw my daughter's fragile body lying in crimson ruins, shredded by the explosion. With her final breath, she turned to the camera, and her smile was a heartbreaking blend of pain and stubborn courage.
I clutched my phone with trembling hands and whispered "I'm sorry" like a mantra, over and over. "Sweetheart... I failed you."
I had been blind to love a man unfit to be her father. The last thread of my sanity snapped for good.
I cradled the urn and expected to collapse in wailing grief, but no tears came. I wandered the streets like a hollow shell, numb to my core. Then reporters mobbed me at my doorstep, their cameras flashing like gunfire.
My vision blurred as I turned to Zane. "As the victim's mother, shouldn't you thank Yara personally? Without her, your daughter would have been gone in the blast."
Under the strobe lights, I let out a wild, broken laugh. Only when Zane yanked me before the cameras did my voice return. "My daughter is gone. No one can save her now."
His expression twisted with fury. "Serena, what the hell are you spewing?" he snarled. "You would slander Yara by claiming your child is dead? What kind of mother does that?"
With one brutal swipe, he sent the urn crashing to the pavement. The world seemed to stop. I dropped to my knees and frantically gathered ashes mingled with dirt. My baby had always hated getting dirty.
Above me, Zane's slick, rehearsed thanks clashed with Yara's shrill, triumphant giggles. "Without Miss Wells's bravery, this rescue would have failed," he declared. "I will mentor her myself. She will be the next great bomb disposal expert."
My daughter was dead, and her father stood there singing praises to the woman who had killed her. As the crowd cheered, the macabre spectacle ended. Zane shot me a look laced with venom. "Keep up the deranged act," he sneered. "Our daughter deserves a mother like Yara, someone with real guts, unlike you."
In a flash, the footage of me crawling on the ground to collect my daughter's ashes was maliciously edited to show me kneeling and tearfully expressing gratitude.
Yara, who had not even earned her professional license yet, was overnight dubbed a genius bomb disposal expert and a heroic savior. The internet exploded over the so-called Scarlet and Sapphire Team of Zane and Yara.
Comments flooded in.
A: [Zane vowed he would never train a female apprentice, yet Yara is the exception. Their chemistry is sickeningly sweet.]
B: [His wife is pure trash. Yara saved her kid, and she is still making that bitter face.]
C: [She keeps lying about Yara tampering with the timer. Ugh, this petty, jealous woman should vanish from Zane's life.]
Zane reveled in the praise and never once corrected them. I typed just four words.
Serena: [May you live happily ever after.]
He slapped my phone to the ground, and his frostbitten glare pierced through me. "You think this is funny? You do not give a damn about our daughter. You are just using her to win sympathy."
He added, "You have one hour left. If you would rather make a scene than save her, suit yourself."
With that, he seized Yara's wrist and spun toward the door. Then his assistant crashed through the doorway, breathless.
- Writer
