After he killed my daughter, he knelt down and begged me for forgiveness

I was inflating a tire at the auto repair shop when my phone buzzed.

A friend request popped up: Have you made enough of a scene? If you have, come home.

The profile picture was a candid of me performing in Vienna years ago.

Looking at it, I wasn't angry. I laughed.

Five years. To him, these five years were nothing but "making a scene."

He probably thought I was still the Alex Henson who'd come running the moment he crooked his finger.

Even through the screen, I could picture his expression.

I wiped the greasy fingerprint off and tapped Accept.

He replied instantly: "Where are you? I'll come pick you up."

I felt nothing. It was almost funny.

I typed two words: "No need."

The moment it sent, I blocked him and tossed the phone back into the toolbox.

1.

Frank Chavez's voice exploded across the shop floor, mixing with the clang of a wrench hitting sheet metal.

"Alex! Where the hell did you disappear to? This Passat's leaking oil everywhere. If you don't want to work, get out!"

I didn't look up. Just slid under the car.

Oil dripped down the chassis onto my facewarm, sticky.

I wiped it with my sleeve. Grime mixed with sweat, blurring my vision.

This was the "making a scene" Marcus Abbott talked about. This was my five years.

I'd just crawled out when my phone vibrated again.

Chloe Gilbert.

Her voice hit me the second I picked up.

"Alex! Run! That lunatic Marcus has turned Rongcheng upside downhe found out you're at Southside Auto Repair!"

"Those Maybachs are headed your way right now!"

I held the phone away and looked at the black dirt under my nails that wouldn't wash clean.

"Let him look."

"Are you insane?"

Her voice was shaking.

"Back thenwasn't that enough? You want to fall into his hands again?"

"Chloe."

I cut her off, my gaze dropping to my right hand.

A scar ran from the base of my thumb across the back of my hand. My index and middle fingers were stiff, the knuckles swollen and deformed, the fingertips blunt.

Who would believe this hand once played in Vienna's Golden Hall?

"I'm just a mechanic now. Someone with nothing has nothing to fear."

"I'm hanging up. I have work."

I ended the call. The phone buzzed again.

A text from an unknown number.

"Had enough fun? There's a charity banquet tonight. Sophia Pruitt needs a page-turner. You're coming."

Then another.

"Don't be ungrateful. This is your chance to come back. Address sent."

Sophia Pruitt.

That name sent a phantom ache through my dead hand.

Five years ago, she was the one Marcus would brave a blizzard to reach.

I was the one left behind.

I deleted the texts, pocketed my phone, and walked over to Frank.

"Frank, I need the day off."

His eyes bulged, spit flying.

"Day off? How many times this month? If you don't finish this car"

"Today is my daughter's death anniversary."

He shut up. His gaze swept over my filthy uniform, and he waved his hand.

"Go. Don't be late tomorrow. I'm docking fifty from your attendance bonus."

I went to the locker room, stripped off the oil-stained coveralls, and changed into a denim jacket washed so many times it had faded white.

I rode my scooter west.

The wind cut across my face.

An hour later, I stopped in a stretch of wasteland.

This wasn't a proper cemeteryweeds choked everything, and jagged rocks jutted from the earth.

I stopped in front of an inconspicuous dirt mound tucked in the corner. No headstone.

I pulled a plastic bag from the bike basket. Inside: three pieces of chocolate and a few pages of sheet music, rain-soaked and yellowed. The chocolate had started to melt.

I set them in front of the mound and reached out to pull up the new weeds around it.

"Lily, Mom's here."

I sat on the gravelly ground and stroked the dirt with my crippled right hand.

"Still no money for a cake this year. Mom's useless."

The wind blew.

I tugged at the corner of my mouth and unfolded the sheet music.

"Mom will play piano for you, okay? There's no piano, but Mom remembers the score."

I lifted my hand and pressed down into empty air.

No piano soundjust the faint click of my finger joints moving.

I'd only played two measures when sharp pain shot through my right hand. My fingers curled up.

"Mom's hand hurts. I'll stop here for today."

I dropped my head onto my knees. My tears smashed into the dirt.

My phone rang.

I looked at the familiar-yet-unfamiliar number and answered.

"Alex Henson." Marcus's voice came through. "I'm giving you thirty minutes. Show up at Bluewater Villa. Otherwise, I'll tear down that auto repair shop and make sure your foreman can't work in Rongcheng for the rest of his life."

"You can try." My voice was hoarse.

"You can gamble." His voice was flat. "Gamble on whether I'm joking. Don't force me to get rough. You know I have that ability."

The call ended.

I looked at the little dirt mound and reached out one last time to touch the soil.

"Lily, that bad guy is coming to cause trouble again. Be good down there. Don't be afraid."

Bluewater Villa.

It used to be my marital home. Now it was Marcus and Sophia's.

I parked the e-bike outside the wrought-iron gate and was about to go in when a security guard stopped me.

"Hey, hey, hey! What do you think you're doing? Scrap collectors use the back gate!" He waved his hand dismissively.

I glanced down at my shoes. The canvas was peeling at the edges, smeared with black mud.

"Marcus Abbott told me to come."

He snorted. "Mr. Abbott? Mr. Abbott would know a beggar like you? Why don't you piss and look at yourself in"

A black Bentley pulled up. The window rolled down, revealing Marcus's face.

Five years had added a bit of maturity.

The guard immediately switched to a grin. "Mr. Abbott, there's this crazy woman insisting she's here because you"

"Let her in."

Marcus didn't look at me. The window rolled back up, and the car drove through.

I followed on foot into the villa.

The moment I entered the living room, I heard piano music. The third movement of Moonlight Sonata. The player was strugglingwrong notes, one after another.

Sophia sat at a Steinway in a white formal dress.

My dowry.

"Marcus, this piece is too hard. Could Alex really play it with her eyes closed back then?"

She stopped and pouted.

Marcus handed his coat to a servant, his gaze landing on me in the entryway. He frowned.

"Alex, did you just crawl out of a trash heap?"

He took two steps closer, caught a whiff of motor oil, and backed away again, pulling out a handkerchief to cover his nose.

"Dressing like a beggaris this your way of getting back at me? Trying to make me feel guilty?"

I stood at the edge of the carpet. I didn't step onto it.

"Mr. Abbott is overthinking it. Life forced it."

Sophia turned around. When she saw me, something flickered in her gaze. Then she smiled, lifted the hem of her skirt, and walked over.

"Oh my, it really is Alex."

Sophia reached out her hand.

"How did you end up like this? Come in and sit down."

Before her fingers could touch me, I pulled my right hand back and hid it behind my back.

"Don't touch me."

Her hand froze midair. Her eyes reddened, and she turned to Marcus.

"Marcus, I just wanted to show some concern for Alex..."

His face darkened.

"Alex Henson! Sophia means wellwhy are you giving her attitude?"

"Five years running wild out there, and you not only didn't learn any manners, you've gotten even cruder!"

I tugged at the corner of my mouth and said nothing.

He pulled a black card from his wallet and tossed it at my feet.

"Since you're back, stop with the pitiful act. Take it and buy some decent clothes. Clean yourself up."

"Don't embarrass me at tonight's banquet."

The card hit the floor.

I looked down at it and didn't move.

He let out a cold laugh.

"What? Think it's not enough? Alex Henson, know when to quit."

"Behave yourself and make Sophia happy, and I might consider letting you back into the Abbott family."

He paused.

"Since you're back, bring your daughter too."

"Sophia's very generous. She said she's willing to be a stepmomtreat her like her own."

I jerked my head up and stared at him.

Bring her back?

Treat her like her own?

My body trembled.

He actually thought Lily was still alive?

After that blizzardafter he threw her on the side of the roada two-year-old burning with fever could still be alive?

"What? Not willing?"

He looked at me.

"Afraid Sophia will mistreat her? Alex Henson, you're still as petty as ever. Sophia is ten thousand times kinder than you."

I clenched my right hand behind my back, nails digging into my palm.

"She doesn't have that kind of luck."

I forced the words through clenched teeth.

His expression shifted.

"Alex Henson! Don't refuse a toast only to drink a forfeit! That little bast"

"Marcus Abbott."

I cut him off, bent down, and picked up the black card.

"I'll go buy clothes."

The moment I walked out the villa door, I heard Sophia's voice behind me.

"Marcus, don't be mad. Maybe Alex just can't accept it yet..."

After leaving the gated neighborhood, I tossed the black card into a roadside trash can.

Too dirty.

Back at the rental apartment, I dug a red evening gown out of a box under the bed.

My battle outfit from the Vienna solo recital five years ago.

The hem had a big hole chewed by rats, spotted with mildew.

Holding needle and thread, I used my trembling right hand to clumsily mend the tear.

Someone knocked on the door.

Chloe rushed in, eyes swollen and red.

"Alex..."

She hugged me.

"I found itI found it!"

"Found what?"

"That car accident..."

She was shaking.

"That truck wasn't an accidental loss of control! It was Marcus"

"He had someone slash your tire, forcing you into that rigged car, just to buy Sophia time to escape!"

The needle stabbed into my fingertip. A bead of blood welled up.

So that's how it was.

I looked at the drop of blood and smiled.

"Good to know."

"Chloe, help me with my makeup. Tonight, I'm attending a funeral."

The evening charity banquet was held at a five-star hotel.

Crystal chandeliers blazed overhead; a champagne tower rose in the center.

I appeared in the hall wearing that mended red gown, and the room went quiet.

The style was outdated. The stitches at the hem were crooked.

"Is that Alex Henson? Oh my God, she looks so much older."

"I heard she's been missing for yearswhy would she show up dressed like that? Looks like street-stall junk."

"What's with her hands? Why does she keep them tucked in her sleeves?"

The whispers drifted over.

I straightened my back and walked toward the corner.

Marcus stood surrounded by guests, sharp in a black suit. Sophia clung to his arm, smiling.

When he saw me, his gaze darkened, but he didn't lash out.

Sophia released him and walked over.

"Alex, you made it. Sit downthe performance is about to start." She lowered her voice and leaned close to my ear. "Look around. Everyone here thinks I'm Mrs. Abbott. And what are you? A stray dog with nowhere to go. You really think you can fight me?"

I glanced at her makeup. "How's your piano practice going? Try not to butcher your scales."

Her expression stiffened, then twisted into a sneer. "Don't worry about me. You'll see soon enough."

The emcee took the stage. "Next, please welcome the renowned pianist Ms. Sophia Pruitt, performing Liszt's 'La Campanella'!"

Applause rose.

Sophia lifted her skirt hem, climbed the stage, bowed, and sat down.

The music began.

At first it was smooth enough, but when she hit the midsection with its big leaps, she started struggling. Notes scattered. The rhythm dragged.

Someone in the audience frowned.

Sophia suddenly stopped, stood up, and took the microphone.

"Sorry, everyone. This piece is too difficult, and my hand is a little uncomfortable today." She paused. "But as it happens, my sisterthe former genius pianist Alex Hensonis also here. I'd like to invite her up to help me finish the second half. What do you all say?"

The spotlight hit me.

I narrowed my eyes at the stage.

She did it on purpose. She was the only person in Rongcheng who knew my hand was ruined.

"Alex Henson? Didn't she retire?"

"Let her play! Let's see if the genius is still there!"

Marcus looked at me. "Go. Sophia is giving you a chancedon't be ungrateful. Perfect time to get your feel back. Stop touching that worthless scrap metal all day and making your hands rough."

I sat in the shadows and didn't move.

His face darkened. He strode over and grabbed my wrist. "What are you still throwing a tantrum about? With this many people watching, do you want to humiliate Sophia?"

He squeezed hardright where the bones had broken.

"I'm not going."

"You don't get to decide."

He dragged me up from my seat and shoved me toward the stage. "Play. If you don't play well today, I'll bulldoze your crappy repair shop flat."

I stumbled onto the stage.

The lights were blinding.

In front of me sat that familiar set of black-and-white keys.

Sophia stood by the piano, smiling.

Trembling, I reached out my right hand.

Under the lights, my hand was fully exposed.

A collective gasp rose from the audience.

"Oh my God, what happened to her hand?"

"That's horrifyingit looks like it was broken"

Marcus stood below, frowning. "What are you spacing out for? Play!"

I placed my fingers on the keys.

Since you all want to hear it.

I pressed down.

Clang

Noise.

My fingers couldn't bend, couldn't exert any strength. The instant I pressed down, sharp pain shot through me, and I ended up mashing a whole cluster of keys.

The room went dead silent.

Sophia covered her mouth in exaggerated alarm. "Alex, what's wrong with you? Did you do that on purpose? If you didn't want to help me, you could have just said sowhy did you have to ruin my performance?"

"Mr. Abbott, we... we found something on the hillside behind the Abbott family estate..."

"Found what?"

The assistant's voice trembled.

"It's a grave... The tombstone has the child's name on it... She, she..."

It was like a bomb went off in Marcus Abbott's head.

He slowly looked at me.

I supported myself against the doorframe, laughed silently, and tears streamed down my face.

"Marcus Abbott, Lily is dead."

"She died five years ago, that snowy night..."

"Do you still remember where you were that night?"

Marcus Abbott's face turned deathly pale.

"I was sleeping... with Sophia Pruitt."

That sentence fell like a huge rock, crashing into dead silence.

Marcuss face darkened.

He stormed onto the stage, seized my shoulder, and hurled me aside.

Alex! Youre a lunatic! You just cant stand seeing Sophia doing well, can you?

I crashed into the leg of the piano. A sharp, blinding pain tore through my lower back, cold sweat instantly soaking my clothes.

I didnt make a soundonly clutched my right hand tightly, as if letting go would kill me.

Drag her out!

Marcus pointed at me and roared at the security guards.

Dont let her make a spectacle of herself here. Throw her into the lounge!

The guards rushed over, hoisted me up, and dragged me backstage.

As we passed Sophia, she spoke in a low, venomous whisper.

See that? In Marcuss heart, youre not even fit to shine my shoes.

Your hand is ruined. Youre ruined too. Just go die.

The lounge was dark.

I was tossed onto the floor.

The door opened. The sharp click of Sophias high heels echoed across the ground.

She closed the door and looked down at me in the thin strip of light seeping through the crack.

Alex, do you know? she said softly. After that car accident five years ago, your hand could have been saved.

She lifted my chin, her fingernails biting into my skin.

But when the doctor asked whether to save the mother or the child, Marcus said your hand wasnt important.

What mattered was getting rid of that burdenso it wouldnt get in the way of me marrying into the family.

My whole body trembled.

Youre lying

Lying?

Sophia burst out laughing.

Oh, and one more thing. That night during the blizzardyour unlucky daughter had a fever, didnt she? You called Marcus, begging for help.

I was the one who hung up.

I even blocked you afterward. So tell mewas the snow heavy that night?

Did that little bastard die thoroughly enough?

A hoarse scream ripped from my throat as I lunged at her, my left hand clamping around her neck.

Ill kill you! Ill kill you!

Sophia was knocked to the floor, struggling wildly.

Help Marcus help me

The door was kicked open.

Marcus rushed in and drove his foot straight into my chest.

I was sent flying, slammed into the wall, and spat out a mouthful of blood.

Sophia threw herself into Marcuss arms, sobbing.

Marcus, she tried to kill me She said I ruined her hand and wanted to murder me to avenge that bastard child

Holding Sophia, Marcus turned to look at me.

Alex, youre completely irrational! Just because you dont want to play the piano, because you cant stand seeing Sophia with me, you make up lies like this?

He walked toward me step by step.

I was going to leave you a shred of dignity. But since you dont know when to stop, dont blame me for being ruthless.

He pulled out his phone and dialed a number right in front of me.

Go find Alexs daughter. I dont care where shes hidingsend her to the boarding school in the west of the city immediately.

Without my permission, the mother and daughter are not to see each other again.

He hung up and looked at me coldly.

Alex, this is the price of your madness. In this lifetime, youll never see that bastard again.

A boarding school?

Never see her again?

Lying on the floor, I laughed.

Ha hahaha

The laughter grew louder, mixed with blood frothing from my lips, echoing through the lounge.

Marcus frowned.

What are you laughing at? Have you completely lost your mind?

I laughed as I struggled to push myself up.

Marcus, you really are a joke.

Where do you think youre sending her?

To hell?

What do you mean?

A chill ran through Marcuss chest.

His phone rang.

It was the assistant he had just called.

Marcus answered and put it on speaker.

Did you find her?

Where is she?