That was why I didn't tell him about Nina's funeral. He didn't come home either.

Because I won't let him step foot in this house again.

He was the one who brought that monster into our home, and that monster was the reason my daughter was dead.

I sat by Nina's grave for a long, long time.

From day to night.

I replayed every memory, from the moment I found out I was pregnant with her until now.

She was such a lovely angel.

She brought me so much joy.

How much happiness and beauty she brought to me.

But now, she lay cold and alone in the ground.

Don't worry, Nina. I would make that monster kneel and beg for your forgiveness. I swear.

Definitely.

I went to the police station every day, spoke to every officer, even met with the police chief.

They all felt sorry for me, and every one of them looked at me with pity.

Every day, I waited outside that monster's house. I couldn't let them live comfortably.

Liam grabbed my hair, his eyes filled with rage as he slammed my head against the wall.

"Monica, can't you see? Nina is gone, but Alex is still alive!"

"Do you want to see Alex end up like Nina?"

"Why are you so cruel? Why can't you be as kind as Maya?"

"She's already forgiven you, but you just won't let it go."

I wanted to tear this garbage apart with my bare hands.

"Yes, I am this way. I want to see him end up just like Nina."

"What? Is that not allowed?"

He slapped me hard across the face.

"You're crazy! You've completely lost your mind!"

I kicked him in the groin, and he doubled over in pain, screaming as he clutched himself.

I seized the moment and started slapping Liam across the face.

One slap after another, until he was completely defenseless.

My hand ached from the impact.

But I kept going—hitting him harder and harder.

If I could beat him to death, that would be even better.

Maya stood by, shielding that monster, Alex.

"The police already let him go! What right do you have to blame him anymore?"

"Monica, your daughter's death was a suicide. What does that have to do with us?"

"It's her fault for not being able to handle things. It's your fault for not raising her properly."

Right, she had raised her child well. Her child had an impressive ability to handle things.

Now, I was going to show everyone just how well he had turned out.