I remember that night. Damian, who almost never cried, held me and our baby close and whispered, “Wife, meeting you is the greatest blessing of my life.”
I believed him.
I thought we had survived the storm.
I thought the pain was over.
But happiness doesn’t fade—it shatters.
Isla died under Chiara’s car.
And the man who promised to protect me betrayed her.
Now, they had another child, as if Isla had never existed.
Chiara’s voice cut through my memories.
“Hubby, I think Clara gets released today. Don’t you care at all?”
I froze. I barely breathed. I just watched him.
“She knows her own way home. Why should I care?”
His words hit me harder than any prison wall ever could.
I didn’t realize I was clenching my fists until I felt the sting of blood. My nails had bitten deep into my palms.
They climbed into their car—the three of them. Perfect, flawless. A family that didn’t exist for me anymore.
I stayed frozen, watching the taillights fade, feeling as though I’d been buried alive all over again.
My hands shook as I pulled out my phone. I tapped Mara’s name. It took a few tries before the call connected.
When she picked up, my voice barely rose above a whisper.
“Mara… I need you.”
“What is it?” Her voice cut sharply through the line.
For ten years, she had been the only one to visit me, the only person who looked at me without disgust, the only one I could trust.
I drew in a shaky breath. “I want to overturn the verdict. I need to clear my name.”
There was silence. I feared she’d hung up, that she’d given up on me too.
“Clara… I’ve been tracking every lead, gathering evidence. Give me seven more days. Just seven days, and I’ll get you the justice you deserve.”
Something inside me broke. My chest ached—not with pain, but with relief. “Thank you,” I whispered.
When the call ended, I looked around. The streets were empty. Darkness pressed down. I had nowhere to go. No home. No family. No one waiting.
Except him.
And the house we once shared, still holding pieces of my daughter: Isla’s shoes, her drawings, her laughter hidden in the walls.
I walked for hours. My feet bled, went numb, but I kept going.
When I reached the gate, I paused. Damian hadn’t even changed the lock.
My hands trembled as I punched in the code. The door swung open effortlessly.
Inside, it all looked the same—the furniture, the curtains, even the faint smell of home.