Beverly POV

That night, sleep refused to come.

Every time I closed my eyes, the same image forced its way back into my mind Vanessa in Marcus's arms. The way she fit against him so easily. The way his hand rested on her waist like it had always belonged there.

And the worst part?

They were in the master bedroom now, my bedroom the same room I had shared with him just yesterday. The same bed where I had cried myself to sleep countless nights, hoping tomorrow would be kinder. Now it belonged to her.

Vanessa.

The same Vanessa who had almost ruined his life.

How and when did they even get back together?

My chest tightened painfully as the questions crowded my mind.

Was I really not good enough?

Was it just about my weight, or was there something else something Marcus hadn't had the courage to say? Something that made bringing his ex back into our lives unavoidable?

The same ex he knew had a way of bullying me. Of belittling me with her looks alone.

I could already imagine how unbearable my life was about to become now that she was back under the same roof.

But I had been diligent faithful and loyal to him aside from my weight which I couldn't magically fix overnight I had done everything right. I had cooked, cleaned, supported him, stood by him when everyone else walked away.

So why couldn't he just look past my body and love me for the woman I was inside?

Or... had he never loved me at all?

Had he only been attracted to my beauty back before the weight, and stress of life wore me down.

No.

That couldn't be it.

I wiped my face roughly, sniffling as tears and mucus ran freely down my cheeks. My chest felt raw, sore from crying.

My gaze drifted down to the photo frame I was holding in my hand the one I had picked up earlier while packing a few of my things from the master bedroom.

The photo showed him, me, and his mother on our marriage day.

Our smiles were wide real and genuine bright enough to light up an entire room as we posed for the camera.

When did we stop looking like that?

How did things get so bad?

No-why did things get this bad?

Was I perhaps cursed or something?

As if growing up an orphan wasn't enough, marriage to the man I loved the man I believed would be my saving grace was now collapsing right before my eyes with him only inches away from throwing me out, meanwhile I had nowhere to go.

No damn where.

I cried for a long time that night. Hard, broken sobs that shook my entire body until my eyes burned and swelled, until my throat felt dry and scratchy from dehydration. When the thirst became unbearable, I finally forced myself to stand and go get some water.

As I passed the master bedroom, laughter floated out joyful and happy.

The sound pierced straight through my chest like a knife.

I swallowed hard, ignoring the ache, and made my way towards the water dispenser opposite the staircase.

Just water, I told myself.

Get the water and go back to the guest room which had noe becoming my new abode.

I grabbed a cup from a tray nearby and turned on the tap but before I could think of drinking, I heard soft footsteps behind me.

I didn't need to turn around the thick sickly sweet smell of her perfume filled the air announcing her presence even before her voice did.

"Well, if it isn't the dutiful wife."

I ignored her, turned off the tap, and took a long gulp of water. Today had already broken me enough and the last thing I needed was to engage with her.

But then she spoke again.

"Marcus said he already talked to you," she continued calmly. "And as someone with self-respect and decency, I expected you to have packed your bags and left by now. Now that the rightful owner of the man you call your husband is back."

That did it.

"Rightful owner?"

I slammed the cup onto the table I had picked it from so hard rattled my blood boiliing hot as I turned sharply to face her.

She shrugged lazily. "Of course. It was obvious Marcus was mine from the beginning. You were just a little bitch who sneaked her way into his life after a misunderstanding pulled us apart. Despite how much I tried to make you understand that he was mine, you stayed"

Her lips curved into a smug smile.

"Well, I'm here now and I think it's time I remind you of your place."

"My place?" I scoffed a bitter laugh tearing out of my chest."You're forgetting something. I'm no longer the girl silently crushing on him while you flaunted him back then in college. I'm his woman now. His wife."

I lifted my hand deliberately, flashing the expensive diamond ring he'd wedded me with before her.

I didn't miss the dark flicker of jealously that flashed in her eyes as she stared at it sharp and unmasked. For a moment, satisfaction stirred inside me and I thought I'd won but then her expression soon twisted into a scowl.

"Wife?" she sneered suddenly. "You mean the wife he treats like trash? Oh, I was here when he insulted you, Beverly. You're only his wife in name."

Her words cut deeply into me, but I refused to give her the satisfaction.

"At least what I do with him has a name," I shot back. "Unlike you. You can't even show your face with him in public, can you?"

She glared at me.

"Even so," she said calmly, "I'm the key to his heart. One word from me and you'll be gone from his life."

That one hurt because I knew it was true and I couldn't help but glare at her.

"And what do you even take me for huh?" I let out a bitter laugh my chest burning. "A joke? You think you can ruin his life and come back whenever you want?"

"Seems like it" She retorted coolly tilting her head to the side. "But you saying I ruined his life is kind of a stretch. But you know the funniest thing? Even after everything I did... the moment I returned, he ran straight into my arms."

Her smiled widened this time as her eyes bored into mine.

"Doesn't that remind you who he truly belongs to?"

This time I had no reply because it was true.

I was the one who stayed when she left him was the one who endured with him when he was going through hard times and yet, the moment she returned he didn't hesitate to take her back.

"Though, if I must say," she added again after a brief silence, "you did a good job, Beverly."

"Got something else to say to me?" I growled immediately as I looked up to her my patience and self control wearing thin now with the more time I spent with her.

She was deliberately pushing my buttons with her words and as a matter of fact I should have walked away at this point but for some reasons I stayed behind.

"Oh, plenty." She set the glass of milk she'd been sipping from down and turned fully toward me. The shirt she was wearing I now recongnised to be Marcus's rode up slightly as she leaned against the wall opposite me comfortably.

"First, thank you for taking care of Marcus for me," she started sweetly. "The Marcus I dated back then, it wasn't certain he'd amount to anything. But look at him now-he now has a business of his own."

There was something sharp in her eyes when she said it something calculative and full of greed.

"You don't love him, do you?" I asked quietly already figuring her out.

She shrugged casually. "Who knows?"

It hurt more than it should have and I didn't know why I mean I should have found it pleasing that the woman he loves was just fooling him but all I felt was this immense anger and hate towards her.

"You gold-digging bitch." My hands curled into fists as I stepped closer to her.

"Say whatever you want," she smirked. "But why do you even care? With everything he's done to you, why do you care what I do with him?"

"You don't love him," I repeated, ignoring her words as I continued my strides towards her.

Her eyes suddenly flicked behind me but I was to consumed by rage to look at what she was staring at but when she looked at me again pure fear and terror was written on her face one I knew she was faking.

"You don't care about him," I continued irregardless.

"No please that's enough Beverly" She shook her head already stepping back her eyes glistening but I was just too enraged to care.

"All you care about is his money. You scam!" I screeched out the last part as I crossed the last distance to her but before I could get her.

"And what the hell is going on here?"

Marcus's voice suddenly snapped through the air and I regained my senses almost immediately.

I looked at him shocked as to how he suddenly got here while he stared at us his gaze cutting from me to Vanessa with me in the most implicating position on the verge of grabbing her.

"Marcus..." Vanessa voice broke the silence as she suddenly broke into tears and Marcus didn't hesitate before rushing to her side.

"What happened babe?"

"We were just talking," she sobbed quietly. "When she tried to attack me I think she's trying to hurt the baby!" She accused her hands moving to her belly as she finally looked at me.

"What?" I whispered in shock my heart dropping to the floor at the accusations, that wasn't the case.

"What did you do?" Marcus without waiting to hear me out growled as he spurned around to face me.

"She's lying," I whispered already backing away in fear because I knew what that lie could do to me. "We were just talking I didn't-"

"Liar!"

He didn't wait for me to explain as he lurched at me.

I moved back instinctively trying to escape him but shit my luck as my my foot unexpectedly caught the edge of the stairwell. My weight betrayed me and before I knew it I fell hard from the staircase to the living the impact knocked the breath from my lungs and I felt the familiar liquid rushing out of my head.

From up the stairs Marcus and Vanessa stared at me with a shocked look written on their face but none of them made any attempt to help.

"Marcus... please," I begged him already feeling weak and dizzy with the amount of blood I was losing.

But the shock faded from his face in that instant replaced by cold contempt and without a word or any sign of help he grabbed Vanessa and walked away and that was the last thing I saw before darkness took over me.

* * *

I opened my eyes slowly, my head pounding as if someone had struck it with a hammer. The first thing I saw was a familiar face one of Marcus's men standing beside the bed, watching me closely.

My entire body throbbed as I tried to shift, pain shooting through my skull and down my spine. The sharp smell of antiseptic filled my nose and the steady beeping of a machine echoed faintly in the background. From the sterile white walls and the stiff mattress beneath me, I didn't need anyone to tell me where I was.

I was in the hospital.

"How do you feel, ma'am? Should I get the doctor?" the man asked gently.

I barely heard him. My eyes scanned the room instinctively, searching for one face in particular. Hope foolish and unwanted rose in my chest as the memories of everything that had happened came crashing back.

The fall, the blood and Marcus walking away when I begged him to help me at least tell me he had somehow, had a rethink somewhere along the line and was the one who brought me here.

"No," I said hoarsely. "How long have I been out?"

"Two days since the fall, ma'am," he replied. "Fortunately I found you just in time and brought you here."

The words landed like a dull blow and my eyes dimmed.

"You're the one who brought me here?" I asked disbelieving hoping I had heard wrong.

"Yes, ma'am."

At that, I stopped searching the room. My heart already knew the truth the moment I hadn't seen him. Still, some small part of me had hoped stupidly that maybe it was him.

Did I really not matter to him anymore that he didn't think twice before leaving me to die in the staircase?

"Now how do you feel, ma'am? Should I go get the-" the man started again.

"It's fine," I cut in, my voice tired. "I just need to be alone."

He hesitated, shifting his weight.

"Are you really sure about that ma'am you don't look too good maybe I should call the-"

"I know," I said softly, forcing a small, convincing smile. "I just feel hungry go get me some fruits, okay?"

He studied my face for a moment, then finally nodded and left.

The moment the door clicked shut, I pushed myself upright despite the pain. My teeth clenched as I reached for the IV line and pulled it out in one swift motion.

My mind was already made up.

Marcus had abandoned me on the staircase. He had walked away while I bled and I was sure he hadn't come once during my recovery and if this men hadn't come to my recuse I might have died. Now If that didn't tell me how little my life meant to him, nothing ever would.

I couldn't do this anymore.

I might have nothing. Nowhere to go. But I would be damned if I returned to that house after everything.

I swung my legs off the bed slowly, steadying myself as dizziness washed over me. I looked around me I didn't have my phone neither my credit card with me and at such doing what I had in mind was impossible but then my suddenly my eyes fell on my finger.

The diamond ring wedding Marcus's had gotten me was still there.

A small, bitter smile tugged at my lips as understanding settled in. I slipped it off carefully, holding it between my fingers for a moment before closing my hand around it.

That would be my way out.

After making sure no one was watching, I quietly slipped out of the ward and the hospital as a whole.

Finally, I was ready to leave Michigan for good.

* * *

It was late afternoon when I arrived in Dasu after spending hours on the plane with nothing but a cheap dress and a low-quality handbag I had bought with the money from selling my wedding ring.

The moment my feet touched the ground, a strange mix of emotions washed over m relief, fear, and a hollow ache I couldn't quite name. The air felt different here. Warmer and familiar in a way that made my chest tighten.

An hour later, I stood in front of the one house I hadn't visited in years.

My hands trembled as I raised them to knock. I prayed silently that she would be home. I hadn't been in touch with her for years. I hadn't even called before showing up like this.

"Coming," a familiar voice called from inside.

I exhaled deeply, trying to calm my racing heart as I waited.

Seconds later, the door swung open, and I was met with a face I hadn't seen in a long time. She looked slightly older now, time hardening her features, but she was still the same woman I remembered.

"Who are-?" Her words trailed off as her face twisted into a frown. Her brows furrowed as she assessed me from head to toe, her eyes lingering a little longer than necessary. I couldn't blame her for not recongnising me immediately It had been years. And my weight... it changed everything.

"Wait..." she said slowly. "Beverly?"

My chest loosened instantly the moment she said my name, her eyes finally shining with recognition as they met mine.

"Aunt Camilla," I breathed.

Everything I had been holding in broke free at once the tears spilled down my face before I could stop them.

"Oh my God, what the hell happened to you?" she exclaimed, pulling me into a tight hug almost immediately.

I didn't hesitate before wrapping my arms around her, her warmth grounded me as I cried into her shoulder.

"It's a long story, Aunt," I sobbed. "You were right. Ditching my dreams of going to medical school just to go after a guy was a big mistake. But now I'm here to make things right. I'm here to focus on myself."

Seven Years Later

"Are you really sure you want to do this?"

Aunt Camille's concerned, almost trembling voice filtered into my ears that morning, even though I had spent both nights and days trying to convince her.

"You know there's nothing you're going to say that would change my mind, Aunt," I murmured quietly, my eyes fixed on my reflection as I check myself out slowly in front of the full-length mirror in my room.

The blue dress, striped faintly with silver I was wearing clung to the thick curves I'd somehow managed to build over the years. Curves born from survival. From healing and from learning to love a body that had once only known shame.

It hadn't been easy if I must say but the most important thing was that I had done it yes I had, gotten rid of the one thing that had almost felt impossible, my fat and now I could easily say I was pretty.

"Yes, but have you thought about the possibility of it being a sham?"

Her next words made me freeze, My hands stilled at my sides in that instant as I lifted my gaze to meet hers through the mirror.

She stood in the doorway, arms folded tightly across her chest, worry etched deep into her face. Her lips were pressed together like she was holding back everything she was afraid to say.

"What's that supposed to mean, Aunt?" I asked slowly, adjusting my posture before turning fully to face her.

"I mean... it's been years, Beverly," she said carefully. "Do you really think there's such a thing as a fake death? Or something like that?"

I swallowed, my throat suddenly tight.

"I told you already," I said, forcing calm into my voice, "the circumstances surrounding Tristan's death were strange. Complicated. I was too clouded by grief back then to really look into it. But now... now I'm ready."

"And what proof do you have that it wasn't just an accident?" she rasped. "Some mail from an anonymous person years after his death?"

I exhaled sharply and turned away, my gaze dropping to my phone lying on the dresser beside the mirror.

The screen was still on.

The email still open.

'Hi Mrs. Hawthorne, this is Doc R. If this somehow gets to you, just know I've got some information about your late son, Tristan Hawthorne--the truth about his death. Unfortunately, it's not something I can send via electronic devices because of where I based currently. I'd advise we meet physically here in Michigan. Send a text message to the number at the bottom of this message if you get here, and I'll call to tell you where we can meet. Then we can talk about everything'

Just that, A hidden number. No full name. No address.No explanation of how he got my current contact.

And I understood why Aunt Camille was scared. Anyone would be especially with a mail like this who knows it could actually be someone trying to fool me.

But the truth was I wasn't really going back because of the content in the mail.

Actually a week before that email arrived, I'd had this urge to go through Tristan's autopsy report again--after years of avoiding it like a wound that refused to close I had done it out of boredom. But then, this time, I saw things, things that didn't add up. Things my grief-clouded mind had refused to acknowledge before.

It was as if my medical training had sharpened my eyes and now I could see things, see past medical lies and forged results.

And if this "Doctor R" claimed to know something anything that could help me stake my claim that perhaps my son hadn't die the way I was made to believe he did then who was I to ignore it?

If it urned out to be a sham fine. But one thing is certain Tristan died in Michigan.

And if I were to follow the trail the autopsy was pointing me toward, it meant going back there to investigate irregardless. This trip was inevitable.

"That's not the only reason I'm going, Aunt," I said finally . "But you should know this I know what I'm doing. And even if it doesn't turn out to be true...let it be that I tried."

For reasons best known to me I stayed vague. Not because I didn't trust her but because I couldn't risk voicing everything yet until it's been confirmed and from the way her shoulders relaxed just a fraction, I knew she understood.

"And maybe," I continued softly, "this way I'll finally get closure."

That was another issue.

I hadn't really healed from Tristan's death. Trying to salvage a failed marriage hadn't allowed it back then in Michigan when it first happened but coming to Dasu hadn't helped either. The ache never truly left.

It only left me temporarily when I went back to Medical school to further my studies and pursue my dreams I had once abandon because of love it had been my only escape-burying myself in textbooks, exams, night shifts. It dulled the pain, but it never erased it.

Now that I had graduated had a job and had somehow managed to build a name for myself... it just came rushing back.

Like I was missing out on something concerning his death and unless I figured it out I won't be able to let him go and that was what prompted me to look into the autopsy in the first place.

"Okay," Aunt Camille said slowly, studying me. "I get it now. But you know that place has a lot of... you know..."

She trailed off, her eyes heavy with meaning.

"Are you sure you don't want to send someone over instead?" she asked quietly.

I knew what she meant understood why she was still skeptical yet again.

It was because of what happened back there and that should have been enough reason for me not to return.

But this was my son.

What kind of mother would I be if I avoided seeking the truth about my son because of fear and trauma or the past?

"It's okay," I muttered. "I didn't spend years rebuilding myself just to cower the moment I find a chance to avenge my son. I won't avoid this just because Michigan hold terrible memories of me." I said my voice hardened with resolve and God know I meant every word.

"And him?" she asked yet again giving me a more meaningful look. "Have you thought about the possibility of running into him?"

I didn't need her to say the name.

"I can handle Marcus, Aunt," I said firmly. The name tasted bitter, metallic. "You don't have to worry about that. Or anything else. I'm grown enough to take care of myself now." I said offering her a small, warm smile. She studied my face for a long moment before nodding slowly.

"Yeah I'm just worried about you," she admitted. "You know how you came back years ago. I'd be damned if something happens to you again."

"I understand," I said softly. "But you have to trust me. I'll be fine."

She hesitated then sighed.

"Alright," she said at last, offering a gentle smile. "I wish you a safe trip."

Relief flooded me almost immediately as I crossed the room to her and wrapped my arms around her, burying my face in her shoulder.

"Thank you for believing in me, Aunt," I whispered. "I promise I won't disappoint you."

She nodded, patting my back slowly, her touch steadying and grounding me.

And for the first time in years, I felt like I was finally walking toward the truth instead of running from it.

Beverly POV

The flight back to Michigan felt like the longest one I had ever taken. Maybe it was because it had been so long since I'd been here... or maybe it was the circumstances surrounding my return. I honestly didn't know.

The entire time, I sat by the window, watching the ground below slowly shrink as we ascended the sky. Buildings became dots and the roads thinned into faint lines.

With every passing minute, my chest tightened, my heart racing like it wanted to leap right out of me. Anxiety coiled deep in my stomach one I knew had nothing to do with flying a plane. I took slow, measured breaths at intervals, whispering to myself that I could do this again and again until the plane finally touched down.

When I stepped out, I drew in a deep breath of the city's air. It felt different. Fresher. The city had changed so much since the last time I was here, and despite myself, I felt a flicker of awe. Tall buildings. Brighter lights. A new kind of movement. But the amazement didn't last long before nostalgia crept in, dragging along memories of everything that had gone wrong here. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to steady my thoughts.

I moved toward the roadside outside the airline terminal and boarded a cab, giving the driver the address of the hotel I had booked weeks before arriving. Yes-I had already sorted everything out.

The plan was simple.

Find the anonymous doctor, listen to what he had to say then find out who was involved in taking my son away from me and make them pay if that was the case.

Or, at the very least, uncover the truth behind his death and finally get the closure I needed.

Either way, I wasn't planning to stay longer than a month.

The cab eventually rolled to a halt in front of one of the most expensive hotels in town. After paying my fare, I stepped out and approached the bright-faced receptionist at the front desk. The check-in process was smooth, and soon enough, I was headed to my suite in the VIP section.

The room was decent and exactly to my taste. I unpacked without hesitation, then headed straight for the bathroom after a long, warm shower which j washed away the exhaustion clinging to my bones then returned back into the room afterwards. Food arrived just minutes after I settled in, and once I ate to my fill, I finally felt human again.

I took out my phone and sent a brief email to the anonymous doctor, letting him know I was back in the country. After that, restlessness settled in staying indoors suddenly felt suffocating so I decided to step out.

It had been so long since I left this city and I wanted to see how much it had changed, how much it had grown.

I got into another cab and asked the driver to take me to the country amusement park. I let my eyes drink in everything as we moved along-new structures, familiar corners that felt strangely distant now. After a lot of sightseeing through some of the city's most popular and beautiful spots, I decided to stop at the kids' general playground located in the middle of the park.

It was one place I had always loved back in Dasu.

Watching children play laughing, running and screaming with pure excitement always filled something empty inside me. It gave me a strange sense of fulfillment and I knew my tour wouldn't feel complete without visiting one, and that was why I had saved it for last. It was the best.

When I arrived, I settled onto a stool by the side and simply watched. Children of different races and colors ran around freely, their joy contagious. The scene warmed my heart, and for a moment, I forgot why I was here in this country.

But as I kept watching, my eyes drifted to the far end of the playground.

A little boy maybe six or seven sat alone on a bench, staring at the other kids with sad and gloomy look on his face an expression too heavy for someone his age.

Something about him felt... different and from where I sat, I noticed how pale he looked, how skinny his small frame was. He was cute really cute yet looked fragile in a way that made my chest ache. And there was something about him that looked looked familiar too he looked so much like someone I knew but I wasn't ready to admit it.

But why wasn't he playing with the others?

My heart softened completely as I watched him and before I could stop myself I stood immediately and walked toward him.

"Hi there," I called softly, giving a small wave as I approached.

"Hi, Auntie," he replied, waving back. His brows creased slightly, surprise flickering across his face at my unfamiliar presence. Still, he didn't pull away when I sat beside him on the bench.

"So... I'm Beverly," I said gently. "And you are...?"

He didn't answer immediately Instead, he studied me his eyes sharp and assessing, like he was trying to figure me out. It was strange. Most kids would have blurted out their name without thinking, but he was different.

And again, that feeling returned... that he reminded me of someone.

"It's okay if you don't want to say your name-"

"Liam," he said suddenly.

I raised a brow, surprised.

"My name's Liam," he repeated.

I smiled warmly at him. "That's a nice name. So, Liam... can I ask why you're not playing with the other kids?"

"It's because I'm sick," he said quietly and my brow creased because I didn't get him but as if understanding my confusion he repeated. "They won't let me... because I'm sick."

Then to further his point he lifted his left hand, and only then did I notice the IV line connected to the pole beside him.

My heart shattered completely at the sight.

"Oh my God... I'm so sorry-"

"Liam!" a sharp voice suddenly called from behind at that instant.

I turned to see a middle-aged woman approaching, a frown etched deep into her face.

"What have you been told about talking to strangers?" she scolded, glaring at the boy.

"It's okay, Nanny Marcy," Liam said quickly. "She's just a friend. Her name is Beverly."

The woman turned her gaze to me, eyes scanning me from head to toe, cautious and alert and after a moment--after she clearly realized I meant no harm--her expression softened.

"Oh-hi, dear. I'm Marcy."

"I'm Beverly," I said, forcing a smile as I stretched out my hand. She shook it without hesitation.

"I'm sorry for how I reacted earlier," she added. "You know how it is... Liam is a bit different, and we're very protective of him."

"I understand," I nodded sincerely.

She smiled again. "If you don't mind, I'll step away."

With that, she left us.

I turned back to Liam. He was still seated, his eyes fixed on the kids playing. Closer now, I caught the longing in his gaze, the way his fingers curled against the bench like he wanted to run toward them but knew he couldn't.

My chest burned at the sight such a sweet yet unfortunate boy to think life had robbed him of his childhood and hell nothing could be more painful than that.

"Since you can't play with the other kids," I said softly after a while trying to help him. "how about I play with you?"

His face lit up almost instantly.

"Really? You'll play with me?" His voice trembled with excitement I didn't expect.

"Yes," I smiled feeling my heart warmed again with his smile. "Just tell me what you want to play."

He squealed happily.

And that was it we played for a really long time--long enough for the sun to start dipping low. For the first time that day, he laughed freely. And when my phone buzzed with a message from the doctor, telling me where to meet him, sadness settled deep in my chest.

I hated that I had to leave but I had no choice.

"Am I going to see you again, Aunt Beverly?" he asked suddenly just as I stood to leave his smile already fading from his face.

My chest tightened.

I wasn't so sure about that. I was here on a mission. And I didn't know how things would end.

But I couldn't break him either.

"Yes," I said softly, crouching in front of him. Our eyes met his deep green ones searching mine. "And when I do, we'll play even more games."

His face brightened again at that. "Alright, Auntie."

"Now go back to Nanny Marcy," I said, ruffling his hair.

He nodded and ran to her side. She approached me moments later, her eyes warm.

"Thank you for today, Beverly. You're such a kind person. It's been so long since I saw Liam this happy."

My throat tightened. "Yes and I'm grateful I could be the reason for it."

Afterward I turned to leave.

But just as I reached the road about hailing down a cab, an ear-piercing suddenly scream tore through the air behind me.

I halted and spun around almost immediately only the be welcome by a scene that made my heart drop straight to my stomach.