Chapter 1
800 Words
Scarlett's POV:
The moment I finished speaking, raucous laughter erupted around me, and no one laughed harder than Lilian.
She looked at Warren with exaggerated sympathy and said mockingly, "Warren, people always said Scarlett was a shameless slut, and I never believed them. But now I've finally seen it for myself. She's actually calling her lover right in front of you."
The moment those words left her mouth, Warren's face darkened with fury as he stormed over and slapped me so hard that my head snapped to the side.
"Tell me!" he barked. "Who is this lover of yours?"
"Warren, there is no lover!" I cried desperately. "This is our daughter's grave. Make them stop digging!"
I tried to explain, but Warren refused to believe a single word.
The memory of yesterday's tragedy flooded back into my mind, and tears streamed uncontrollably down my face.
To Warren, my tears only looked like guilt, and he sneered coldly.
"What is it?" he mocked. "Can't keep your lies straight anymore?"
His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Tell me. Where did you hide our daughter Mila?"
Even now, Warren still refused to believe our daughter was dead.
Part of me wished he was right, wished this entire nightmare were a lie, but I knew the truth—Mila was really gone.
"Mila is dead!" I shouted.
The moment the words left my mouth, Lilian scoffed in disgust.
"Seriously, Scarlett," she said with a roll of her eyes, "When are you going to stop? You've been cursing your own daughter all day. Aren't you afraid something might actually happen to her?"
I shot her a venomous glare, and immediately her face transformed into a picture of wounded innocence.
"Warren," she said softly, lowering her gaze, "maybe I should just leave. Your wife clearly doesn't want me here."
She turned as if to walk away, and Warren instantly panicked, hurrying after her.
"Lilian, why would you waste your energy arguing with someone like her?" he said gently.
After receiving his comfort, Lilian's mood visibly improved as she leaned against his chest and smiled sweetly.
"Thank you, Warren. You're always so good to me." Then she added thoughtfully, "But right now, the most important thing is finding Mila. Your parents haven't seen her in days."
Hearing that, Warren immediately turned back toward me.
"Where did you take Mila?" he demanded.
I met his gaze and looked at the horrifying scene unfolding before me, exhaustion settling deep into my bones.
"Make them stop digging," I said quietly. "If you do, I'll tell you everything."
"Keep digging," Warren ordered without hesitation, not even bothering to look at me.
By then, Mila's coffin had already been pulled from the ground, and when he saw that I was still crying, a cruel smile appeared on his face.
"What?" he sneered. "Is your boyfriend buried there? Is that why you're so heartbroken?"
I forced myself to endure the agony ripping through my body and soul.
"Warren," I said steadily, "I've already told you. Mila is dead."
The moment those words left my mouth, Warren lunged forward and wrapped both hands around my throat.
This time, he squeezed with all his strength.
As my vision blurred, I thought I saw Mila standing before me.
Three days earlier, Warren had promised he would pick Mila up that afternoon, but when school ended, I received a call from the police.
They told me Mila had been hit by a car, and by the time I arrived at the hospital, she was already gone. She wasn't breathing, and I collapsed on the spot.
When I finally woke up, I felt like nothing more than a walking corpse. I stayed beside Mila's body in a daze before eventually calling Warren.
I only wanted to ask him one question—why hadn't he picked up our daughter as he promised? His answer was cold and indifferent.
"I was busy," he said casually. "Didn't I send you a text telling you to pick her up?"
And technically, he had, but Mila got out of school at five o'clock, and his text didn't arrive until seven.
By then, Mila and I were already at the hospital, and I know part of the blame belongs to me.
If I had answered the school's call… If I had arrived sooner, maybe Mila would still be alive. But none of that mattered anymore—it was already too late.
Back then, all I could do was tell him the truth.
"Mila is dead," I whispered into the phone. "Get to the hospital right now."
- Writer
