Chapter 2
797 Words
Scarlett's POV:
"What did you just say?" Even through the phone, I could hear the tension in Warren's voice.
But before he could say anything else, Lilian's sharp voice cut in.
"Warren," she said indignantly, "don't you think Scarlett is being cruel? She knows we're together, yet she keeps saying Mila is dead. Why does she have to curse her own daughter like this?"
Rage surged through me.
"Mila is dead!" I shouted into the phone. "Get your ass to the hospital right now!"
Before either of them could respond, I hung up, unable to stand listening to another second of Lilian's nonsense.
But Warren never came to the hospital that day, and even after I sent him the address for Mila's funeral, he didn't reply.
At first, I convinced myself he was simply too devastated to face reality, but I was wrong. He had never believed me from the very beginning.
And not only did he refuse to believe me, but he also ended up destroying our daughter's funeral.
The memory burned through me, and I closed my eyes in humiliation and despair, finally stopping my resistance.
If I couldn't even protect Mila's ashes, then what right did I have to keep calling myself her mother?
"Warren, stop!" someone finally yelled. "Your wife can't breathe!"
Only then did Warren loosen his grip around my throat, looking at me with pure disgust.
"Haven't I treated you well all these years?" he said. "Back then, because you suspected Lilian and me, she was forced to move overseas for years. Now she's finally back, and you've started causing problems again. You're even using Mila to stir up drama. Do you really expect me not to be angry?"
I glared at him.
"Warren," I said through clenched teeth, "this is the last time I'm saying it. I'm not causing trouble. Mila is dead. And Lilian ruined her funeral."
My eyes shifted toward Lilian, and if looks could kill, she would have died hundreds of times already.
Apparently, my expression got under her skin, and she immediately marched over and kicked me hard.
"You vicious woman!" Lilian snapped. "I was only trying to help! If I hadn't dressed Mila up like a cute little pet, everyone would have had to look at that depressing funeral makeup you put on her."
Then she turned toward Warren and pointed at the grave.
"Warren, hurry up," she urged. "She's so protective of this grave. Let's see whether there are actually any ashes inside."
After Lilian's constant manipulation, Warren had completely run out of patience.
No matter what I said, he was determined to dig up Mila's grave.
As I watched them pull the small coffin from the ground, I screamed until my throat felt raw.
Lilian immediately ordered someone to gag me, and a cloth was shoved into my mouth while Warren stood nearby, cursing me under his breath. I struggled desperately against the ropes.
After what felt like forever, I finally managed to break free, and the moment I pulled the cloth from my mouth, I threw myself onto the coffin.
"I'd like to see who dares touch this!" I shouted.
The fury on my face made several people hesitate, and even Lilian froze for a brief moment before quickly wrapping herself around Warren's arm.
"Warren," she whispered, glancing at me suspiciously, "look at Scarlett. Doesn't it seem like she's hiding something? Whoever is inside this coffin must be incredibly important to her."
Then she stared directly at me.
"Scarlett," she said slowly, "is this your secret lover?"
The accusation made Warren's face darken immediately.
"Scarlett," he snarled, "is that it? Is this the man you've been cheating on me with?"
The moment those words left his mouth, I wanted to hit him. Throughout our entire marriage, I had remained faithful, yet he had been deceiving me all along.
After Mila's funeral, I stumbled across Lilian's social media account, and that was when I finally discovered the truth.
During all the years Lilian lived overseas, every business trip Warren supposedly took was actually an excuse to visit her.
Suddenly, everything made sense—why he was always complaining about money, why he constantly claimed his salary wasn't enough.
How could his paycheck possibly cover several international trips every year?
And now these two had the audacity to accuse me first, the guilty parties playing the victims.
"Warren," I pleaded, "if you don't believe me, call Mila's teacher. Ask her whether Mila is alive or dead."
"Shut up." Without hesitation, Warren kicked me again.
- Writer
