The flat tone of the busy signal droned in my ear before I realized what had happened.

Of course, it was Michael and Janine’s doing.

All I wanted was a divorce. Instead, he had thrown Ryder and me into the line of fire, making us a public spectacle.

However, there was no time to stew in anger. Soon, my phone was ringing nonstop with my parents and relatives each demanding an explanation.

I scrambled to answer them one by one, my head pounding.

Thankfully, the video had only spread locally. The authorities would keep such content in check. By afternoon, the heat had already died down.

I checked the time. It was almost pickup.

My body was still heavy with shame, but Ryder was waiting. I forced myself out the door.

At the preschool gates, the teacher looked surprised. "Oh, Ryder’s already been picked up. His dad’s assistant came, and Mr. Quinn himself even called to confirm it."

Her words struck me like lightning. Michael hadn’t called me all day, but he had taken Ryder.

Fear clawed at me. My hands shook as I dialed his number.

This time, he answered at once, calm as ever. "I’ve got Ryder at the amusement park."

Impossible. Not after everything. How could he be so unbothered, taking Ryder out to play?

Then, faint in the background, I heard it: a child’s terrified screams. My heart lurched. I rushed to the amusement park as fast as I could.

I found them by the towering drop tower ride.

Michael stood there, cradling Nina gently in his arms.

Janine, whose flawless makeup was still intact, coaxed her daughter to eat cake, "Come on, sweetie. I'll take a bite first, then you can have one."

She smiled, took a delicate bite, and lifted a spoonful for Nina.

However, Nina turned away, lips trembling. "Daddy, you take a bite first. Then, I’ll eat."

Michael froze for a second.

"Daddy, don’t you like me?" she whined, her pout melting into giggles as she finally accepted the cake from Janine’s hand.

Nearby, a young couple passing by gasped.

"What a perfect little family!" the girl cooed.

Janine and Nina ducked shyly against Michael’s shoulder.

Just then, above their heads, I heard it: Ryder’s scream, raw and piercing.

I spun toward the sound. My son was strapped into the drop tower, rising higher and higher, his throat already hoarse from crying.

Ryder had always been terrified of heights. Michael knew that. It was the reason he had refused to buy a high-rise apartment, choosing a lower floor for Ryder instead.

This was the same father who had tied him to a ride that could break him.

"Michael, are you insane? You know Ryder’s terrified of heights! The doctor said it. If he’s exposed too long, the fear could trigger something dangerous!"

I tore toward him like a madwoman, but Janine stepped into my path.

"Lena, Ryder wanted to ride it himself. This has nothing to do with Mr. Quinn." Her voice was smooth, almost smug. "Look at him. He’s fine."

"Get out of my way!" I shoved her aside, racing to the base of the ride.

A round had just ended; adults staggered off, clutching their chests, faces pale.

I lunged forward to free Ryder, but before I could reach him, the ride lurched back into motion.

This time, Ryder was the only passenger.

Alone.

As he rose again, higher and higher, my mind snapped.