I pulled the stuffed doll out of the bag and threw it into the trash can.

“I’ve decided to take Bonnie’s stuff with me. Everything else… you can just get rid of it.”

I no longer wanted this home or this man.

Sean stared at the doll in silence for a long time. When he finally spoke, his voice trembled.

“Phoebe, don’t do this out of anger. Just give me an address—”

I shook my head and turned to leave.

“There’s no need. Since she likes my things so much, she can have them all.”

A flicker of panic crossed Sean’s face. For a moment, he thought I meant Miranda could have him as well.

He was about to chase after me when a loud crash suddenly rang out behind him.

The plaster doll Bonnie had given Sean lay shattered on the floor before the bookshelf.

It was something she had painstakingly worked on for a month while on a respirator. Her right hand held the needle as she shaped it inch by inch.

Kelsey stood in front of the bookshelf, trembling in fear.

“Sean, I just thought it was really pretty and wanted to take a closer look. I didn’t mean to…”

Sean froze for a moment before quickly lifting Kelsey out of the shards. He held her close and soothed her.

“It’s okay. You’re not hurt, are you? That’s all that matters. It’s just a plaster ornament. It doesn’t matter.”

I teared up as I tried to reach whatever conscience he had left.

“Sean, Bonnie made that for you as a birthday gift.”

Sean cut me off impatiently.

“I know. So? Kelsey said she didn’t mean it. You’re an adult. Why are you picking a fight with a child?

“Besides, this kind of thing only costs ten dollars outside. Just get another one!”

His indifference made me feel like ice water had been dumped over my head. It made me feel cold and numb.

To him, the plaster ornament was worthless, and so was his daughter’s effort. Only Miranda and Kelsey mattered.

“Sean, don’t forget your promise for tomorrow.”

I refused to look at them. I picked up my things and turned to leave.

If it had not been for Bonnie, I would not have set foot in this house.

I moved back to my old family home and spent the entire night cleaning it. I went through every room.

Bonnie could not stand filth. If she saw dust anywhere, she would refuse to step inside.

That day, I prepared a table full of her favorite food: chili con carne, spicy pulled pork, and spicy blackened fish.

Her tastes had always mirrored Sean’s. They both loved spicy food.

When she fell sick, I strictly controlled her diet and would not even let her have bell peppers.

But from this moment on, she could have anything she wanted.

I placed Bonnie’s urn on a chair, sat beside it, and waited.

The clock on the wall chimed again and again.

It was 7 p.m., but Sean still had not shown up.

I wanted Bonnie’s last remembrance to be better than this. Sean, as usual, did not care.

All I could do was call him repeatedly.

Thirty calls went unanswered. On the thirty-first, he finally answered with a video call.

I was about to speak when I saw Sean, in an apron, bringing out several plates of carefully prepared food from the kitchen.

Even through the screen, I could see the bright grin on his face.

“Sean, you really went all out!”

Miranda approached Sean and gently wrapped her arms around him.

He did not pull away.

Beside them, Kelsey clapped her hands happily.

“Mommy, can we stay with Sean forever? I really like him!”

Miranda glanced at the phone before looking at Sean with a shy smile.

After only a moment’s hesitation, Sean scooped Kelsey into his arms and lifted her high into the air, drawing a fit of giggles from her.

He did not answer, but his actions spoke clearly enough.

I stared at the three figures on the screen as my heart broke apart, piece by piece.

They were the perfect picture of a happy family. Where did that leave Bonnie and me?

Tonight was supposed to be for Bonnie. He had promised one last birthday with her.

But it seemed he was busy making happy memories with someone else’s child.

I wondered if he even remembered Bonnie at all.

I ended the call and lit the candles on the table.

Maybe the food was too spicy, because I could only swallow each bite through my tears.

At 9 p.m., I set up a fire pit in the yard.

One by one, I began placing Bonnie’s favorite things into the flames: the clothes she wore as a newborn, her baby rattles, the outfits she wore just before she died, and her stuffed dolls.

For five years, I had raised Bonnie with love, devotion, and care, but Sean had ruined it all.

How could I not hate him?

As I watched the flames slowly consume Bonnie’s belongings and turn them into ashes, I could no longer hold back my tears.

“Bonnie, this day marks a week since your death. I was afraid you’d be lonely, so I brought you everything you loved. Please take them with you.

“From now on, I won’t be by your side anymore. Take good care of yourself. You won’t have to get injections or take medicine anymore. You must be happy about that, right?”

Just then, Sean’s voice came from behind me.

“Where’s Bonnie? Kelsey said some of her clothes are too small for her now. She wanted to give them to Bonnie, so I brought them over.”

As he spoke, he pulled out the clothes, one by one, and proudly showed them to me.

“Kelsey knows Bonnie likes frilly dresses, so she picked out all of hers for her…”

I could not take it anymore.

I snatched the dresses from his hands and threw them into the fire pit.

Only then did Sean realize what I had done.

His voice sharpened.

“What are you doing? If you’re angry, take it out on me. Don’t drag the kids into this!”

A cold laugh escaped me.

My child had already paid for it with her life, yet he still had the nerve to say something like that.

I pointed at the flames and looked at him coldly.

“Weren’t these supposed to be for Bonnie? This is the only way she can receive them now.”

Sean stared at the half-burned toys in the fire pit.

His chest tightened as if an invisible hand had seized it, and a flash of panic broke through the usual indifference in his eyes.

As he stood there in shock, I picked up the box from the table and held it out to him.

“Bonnie prepared a gift for you before she passed away…”

Perhaps the words “passed away” struck him like a heavy blow because his hands shook as he reached for the box.

He trembled before finally untying the ribbon with unsteady hands.

Inside were two neatly placed documents.

One was Bonnie’s death certificate, and the other was a divorce agreement already bearing my signature.

I disregarded his shock and looked at him with a faint smile.

“Didn’t you say you’d grant Bonnie’s birthday wish? You can sign it now.”