After I handled everything related to my daughter's death, I stopped by a roadside cake shop, bought a cake and drove straight to the address my husband had sent me.

"Knock, knock, knock—knock, knock—"

Standing in front of the door, the image of my daughter's lifeless body replayed in my mind like a haunting loop.

I kept knocking, each strike harder than the last, until my knuckles were red and numb, the pain drowned out by my overwhelming grief and rage.

"I'm here! Just a second! What's the hurry? Why are you knocking so loudly?" a woman's voice burst from the other side of the door.

A moment later, the door swung open.

Without a second's hesitation, I grabbed the door handle with one hand and slammed the cake into her face with the other.

"Are you crazy? What are you doing! Jessica, are you nuts?" she screamed.

My rage gave me strength as I shoved her to the ground, my fury pinning her beneath me. I pressed the cake harder against her face, smearing it over her mouth and nose.

"Aren't you in a hurry to eat the cake? Here it is! Eat it! Why don't you eat it?"

Aurora struggled beneath me, her cries muffled by the cake, as she tried to call out my husband's name, hoping he would come to her rescue.

The cake slid to the ground and without thinking, I swung my arm and slapped her across the face.

"Jessica! What are you doing? You’re acting like a madwoman right now!"

My husband rushed out of the bathroom, wrapped in a bath towel. He threw me aside and carefully helped Aurora to her feet.

"Paul…” she whined, her voice sickeningly sweet, “… she hit me—"

Aurora threw herself into my husband's arms, sobbing dramatically. He patted her back, his face twisted in concern.

To vent his anger, he glared at me and snapped, "Jessica, you look like a madwoman! Where are your manners?"

My daughter’s gone and you’re worried about my manners?

The image of them making love in this hotel while my daughter was hit by a truck, horribly injured, made my heart feel like it was being torn apart. I could barely breathe from the pain.

"Manners? You’re about to sleep with someone else and you’re asking ‘me’ about manners?"

Paul thought my rage stemmed from jealousy, so he softened his tone, trying to placate me. "Jessica, can you stop being so petty? Did your daughter run back to complain to you? That girl only knows how to whine. Just wait, I'll deal with her when I get back."

His words, spoken with such disdain; as if he was talking about his enemies, not his own daughter.

But Paul, you don't have a daughter anymore.

"Do you know what day it is today?" I demanded, my voice icy and unwavering, my gaze piercing through him.

"Aurora’s birthday," he replied, his response automatic.

It was at that moment that the pieces fell into place. I understood now why he had insisted on scheduling my C-section for this particular day.

Why he had chosen to name our daughter Dawn.

A wave of sickness washed over me, but more than the nausea, a cold, chilling realization set in.

"Paul, do you even have a heart? You’ve killed our daughter—your own daughter!"

"Do you know how eagerly she was waiting for her birthday today? How thrilled she was when you asked her to pick up the cake? She thought it was a special surprise from her father!"

"And here you are, talking about love with another woman. Did you ever think about the danger of sending a five-year-old out alone in the city?"

Rage consumed me and in a blind fury, I stormed over and slapped Paul with all the force I could muster.

But there was a stark physical difference between my physicality and his and Paul easily threw me to the ground.

Wincing as Paul covered his scratched face, he sneered, "Jessica, have you caused enough trouble? Apologize to Aurora!"

How could he ask me to apologize when they were the ones who killed my child?

Fury burned in my eyes as I glared at them, but Paul’s voice turned harsh. "You’ll apologize first. Only then will I consider going home."

With that, he carefully shielded Aurora as they walked away.

Our family had sacrificed everything to support Paul, helping him rise to his current position. And this was how we were repaid—with betrayal and slander.

Since he chose Aurora over us, then he shouldn't be surprised by my unrelenting anger. He brought this upon himself!

The day I received my daughter’s ashes was suffused with a deep, unrelenting sadness.

My little girl, who had grown to the age of five with so much promise, was now reduced to this tiny urn.

The weight of her loss felt like it was shredding my heart into pieces. Yet, all I could do was stifle my grief and prepare for her funeral.

"Jessica, where is Paul? No matter how busy he is, he should be here for the child’s funeral," the relatives around me asked, their voices tinged with concern.

They seemed to have discussed it among themselves several times before pressing me for answers.

"Don’t worry about him, let’s just begin," I replied, masking my true feelings.

The thought of his face, twisted with indifference, almost brought me relief. At least, he wasn’t here to tarnish the memory of the father my daughter had cherished.

After sending off all the relatives, I leaned against my daughter’s tombstone alone and watched the darkening sky.

"Baby, are you scared to be alone? It doesn't matter, mom will be with you now and in the future, always."

I wiped the dust off my daughter's photo. My daughter's smile was obviously so vivid, but now it could only be locked in a black and white photo.

"Jessica, I'm sorry, I'm late."

Paul's voice cut through my haze of grief and I looked up to see him standing there, a look of contrition on his face as he held a cake in his hands.

Noticing my silence, he dropped to his knees before our daughter's grave, slapping himself repeatedly. "I'm sorry, honey. It’s Dad’s fault, all Dad’s fault. I shouldn’t have let you go alone for the cake. I know I was wrong, so wrong!"

He kept hitting himself until his face was swollen and bruised. Only then did I finally tell him to stop.

"Just go away. Dawn doesn’t want to see you."

"Jessica, you can’t be so cruel. I know I’ve messed up. Just let me stay with my daughter for a while, please?"

His apology seemed genuine, but it struck me as absurd.

If he truly cared about his daughter, if he genuinely realized his mistakes, he wouldn’t have sent her out alone for the cake in the first place!

"Whatever!"

I didn't care about him, just packed my things and went home.

The next day, when I was packing up my daughter's toys at home and wanted to take them to the cemetery, the cemetery administrator called me first.

"Miss Larks, your daughter's grave has been dug up!"

"What?"

I couldn’t care less about the toys anymore and drove directly to the suburbs.

When I arrived, a crowd had gathered in front of my daughter's grave, murmuring in shock and horror.

"Oh, what kind of evil is this? The child's grave was disturbed right after she was laid to rest..."

"How heartless and cruel must the gravedigger be?"

I struggled to grasp the gravity of what was happening. The scene before me was almost too horrifying to comprehend.

The cemetery staff approached me, their faces etched with regret. "Miss Larks, it seems your daughter’s ashes have been stolen..."

"What?"

Despite my desperate wish to deny it, the gaping hole in the ground made the dreadful truth undeniable.

I immediately suspected Paul, though I could scarcely believe he could be so cruel as a father.

With a sinking feeling, I called my friend on duty at the hospital where Paul was working, to check on his whereabouts.

When I learned that Paul had taken a box to Loch Valley District, my heart sank. The sting of betrayal was overwhelming, a crushing blow that left me breathless.

Without wasting a moment, I sped toward Loch Valley District, stopping at every opportunity to ask about my husband and Aurora’s whereabouts. No, she wasn’t Aurora; she was Sydney Woods. Aurora was just one of her many aliases.

Arriving at their address, I found the door ajar. I pushed it open and stepped inside, only to find Sydney slathering a facial mask on her face and complaining to my husband, "Paul... why there’s only so little ashes of your daughter's? I almost finished them all in one go!"

Paul, lounging on the sofa, gazed at her with a fond smile. "What did you expect? It’s just the remains of a 12-kilogram child."

"You deserve to die!"

Anger took over all my rationality and I rushed forward and snatched the bowl of my daughter's ashes from Sydney.

Looking down, I saw that my daughter's ashes were mixed with egg white, aloe vera gel and unknown powder to form a thin paste.

My daughter! This was my daughter!

Even after death, these two wouldn’t let Dawn be at peace!

I wanted them to die! I wanted them both to die horribly!

Once this idea came up, it quickly rooted and grew deeply in my heart.

I swung the vase on the table and smashed it at them.

"Jessica, calm down!"

My husband jumped up from the sofa in an instant and directly protected Sydney in his arms. Then he stopped me, found the right time and pounced on me, pressing me to the ground.

I used all my strength to break free from Paul's restraints, only to get even more fierce suppression in exchange.

I despised myself again. As a mother, I couldn't even protect my own daughter.

I couldn't even protect my daughter's ashes and I couldn't even avenge her.

Why was I so incompetent? Why was I so goddamn incompetent!

I finally ran out of strength and fell to the ground. The broken pieces of the vase pierced my palms and blood instantly gushed out and soaked the floor.

It flowed to my daughter's ashes.

I shakily reached out my hand to reach my daughter, but Sydney picked up the bowl.

Sydney sighed dramatically, "Paul, all the ashes are scattered. What are we going to do now?"

Paul, peeling himself away from her, glanced at the remnants in the bowl with a shrug. "If it's gone, it’s gone. There’s nothing we can do."

Then, turning sharply, his face twisted in anger, he snapped, "This is all your fault! Sydney could have turned those ashes into a high-priced facial mask with her secret recipe, but now it’s all gone to waste!"

I stood there, stunned and horrified, struggling to comprehend his words. Did he even freaking realize what he was saying?

Did he truly understand that those ashes were the remains of our daughter?

They were the remains of our only daughter—the little girl I carried for ten months, the child I had hoped and dreamed for.

How could they disrespect her memory for such a disgusting purpose?

Seeing that I didn't say anything, my husband thought that I knew I was wrong and he softened his tone to comfort me, "I know you are upset because of your daughter's death, but think about it from another perspective. I can make a mask and sell it for a high price and then buy us another house. In this way, your daughter will be happy and can stay with you forever, isn't it good?"

His eyes lit up, as if he had seen the scene he described.

"You aren’t a human! You are an animal!"

As soon as I cursed, Sydney said hypocritically, "Jessica, you are too ignorant, aren't you? Anyway, your daughter is dead. Instead of wasting resources, it is better to let her be useful."

I couldn’t make out their words; they were drowned out by a single, relentless thought echoing in my mind.

These two animals must kneel before my daughter's grave and admit their wrongs!

That day, I met up with the hospital dean, Uncle Robert and asked him to give Paul a chance to perform surgery in public at the upcoming medical exchange conference.

Paul could be where he was at the present, all thanks to my dad’s connections.

In the beginning, he used the money from my family to fund his education, used the money to buy himself a degree and then relied on my dad to clear the relationship and entered the hospital.

In fact, he didn’t learn anything.

He only had a professional title in the hospital, but he had never performed a surgery by himself.

The medical exchange conference had always been broadcasted live, so I wanted to let netizens across the country see what kind of good-for-nothing he actually was!

Since he dared to betray me and my daughter, he must be prepared to accept my ruthless revenge!