I refused to be a victim.

I refused to let them see me break.

I wiped the tears from my face with the back of my hand, smearing the blood from where the IV had been. I stood up. My legs were shaking, but my spine was steel.

I walked down the hallway. The lights hummed, buzzing like angry flies. I found his room.

It was quiet now. The doctors were gone. The machines were still there, blinking, breathing for a boy who was no longer there.

I looked at him.

He looked like he was sleeping. His skin was pale, translucent like wax. There was a bandage on his chest. A thick, white square where they had cut him open and taken the only thing that mattered.

I placed my hand on his forehead. It was cold.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice cracking. "I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you, Alexus."

I reached for the machine. The ventilator hissed, a rhythmic, mechanical mockery of life.

I found the button.

Click.

The hissing stopped. The room fell into a silence so heavy it felt like it would crush my ribs.

"I hope you are happy now, baby," I choked out. "Mommy loves you. Mommy will always love you."

I didn't let Anthony bury him. I didn't let him put on a show for the cameras, pretending to be the grieving father over a casket he helped fill.

I went to the morgue myself. I screamed at the director until he processed the paperwork. I signed my name until my fingers cramped.

Two hours later, I walked out into the rain.

I wasn't holding a hand anymore. I was holding a box.

A heavy, marble urn. Cold against my chest.

"Let's go home, Alexus," I whispered to the ash.

The taxi ride was a blur of gray sky and wet pavement.

When I arrived at the mansion, I expected silence. I expected the house to be mourning, the curtains drawn, the air stale with grief.

Instead, I heard music.

Soft jazz drifting from the open windows. And laughter.

Laughter.

I stood in the rain, clutching the urn, water soaking through my thin hospital gown. My son was dead. I was holding his ashes. And someone was laughing in my house.

I pushed the front door open.

The warmth of the foyer hit me. The scent of expensive cologne and lilies—Alicia’s favorite flower—filled the air.

They were in the living room.

Anthony was sitting on the sofa, a glass of scotch in his hand. His tie was loosened. He looked relaxed.

Alicia was beside him, pouring tea. She looked radiant. Her hair was perfect, her dress a soft pastel yellow that made her look like spring.

They looked like a family. A happy, perfect family.

Anthony looked up. His smile vanished.

"Amber?" He frowned, setting his glass down. "Why are you back?"

I stood there, dripping wet, shivering. "I live here, Anthony."

"I thought you’d be at the hospital," he said, his voice annoyed. "Watching over the body. Or making a scene."

He didn't even know. He didn't care enough to check.

"I'm tired," I said, my voice hollow. I held the urn tighter, shielding it from their gaze. I didn't want them to see it. I didn't want their dirty eyes on my son.

"Well, you shouldn't be here," Anthony snapped. "You look like a ghost. It's depressing."

He took a sip of his drink.

"It’s your fault, you know," he added casually. "If you hadn't taken him to that park, we wouldn't be in this mess. You ruined everything."

I bit the inside of my cheek. I tasted iron.

"Don't be harsh on her, Anthony," Alicia chimed in. Her voice was like syrup—sweet, sticky, and sickening.

She stood up and walked toward me, her heels clicking on the marble floor.

"She needs to rest," Alicia said, reaching out to touch my arm. I flinched away.

She didn't look offended. She just smiled that pitying, condescending smile.

"That is why I brought Leo here," she said softly. "To help with your recovery. The doctors say exposure to children can help with the grieving process. It’s better this way."

My stomach turned.

I didn't say a word. I couldn't. If I opened my mouth, I would scream until the windows shattered.

I turned around and walked toward the stairs.

"Amber!" Anthony called out. "Don't you dare ignore Alicia when she's trying to help you!"

I kept walking.

Step by step. The urn felt heavier with every stair.

I reached the hallway. The door to Alexus’s room was open.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

I walked to the doorway.

The room was bright. The dinosaur wallpaper was still there. The bed was made.

And there, sitting in the middle of the floor, was a boy.

Leo.

He looked healthy. His cheeks were pink. He was laughing.

He was holding Alexus’s favorite toy car. The red one with the missing wheel.

"Vroom! Vroom!" Leo shouted, crashing the car into the leg of the bed.

My breath caught in my throat.

That was Alexus’s car. That was Alexus’s room. That was Alexus’s heart beating in that chest.

"What are you doing?" I asked. My voice was trembling.

Leo looked up. He had Anthony’s eyes.

"Playing," he said simply. "Auntie Amber, look! Fast car!"

He smiled. An innocent, toothy smile.

I gripped the doorframe.

I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to snatch the toy from his hands and throw him out. I wanted to tell him he was a thief.

But he was just a boy. He was five years old. He didn't know his mother was a snake. He didn't know his father was a monster.

He was just a child.

I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself. I stepped into the room.

"Leo," I started, trying to keep my voice steady. "You shouldn't be in here..."

Then I saw it.

A black shape moving on his arm.

A spider. Large, hairy, crawling up his pale skin toward his neck.

Leo didn't notice it. He was too busy crashing the car.

Instinct took over. I didn't think. I just moved.

"Hold still!" I gasped.

I rushed forward, raising my hand to swat the spider away. I needed to kill it before it bit him.

I raised my hand high, my palm open.

"Get off!" I yelled at the spider.

Leo looked up, his eyes widening in terror as he saw my hand raised above him.

"Mommy!" he screamed.

"What are you doing?!"

A shriek tore through the air from the doorway.

I froze.

"Help!" Alicia screamed, her voice echoing through the entire house. "Anthony! Help! She's killing my son!"

I was on my knees.

The cold, hard floor bit into my skin. My hands were wrenched behind my back, the metal cuffs cutting into my wrists.

"I was killing the spider!" I screamed, my voice raw and desperate. "There was a spider on his arm! I wasn't hurting him!"

No one listened.

Anthony stood over me, his face a mask of disgust. Alicia was sobbing hysterically, clutching Leo to her chest like I was a rabid dog.

"She tried to hit him!" Alicia wailed, pointing a shaking finger at me. "She raised her hand! I saw it! She's insane, Anthony! She's dangerous!"

"No!" I begged, looking up at my husband. "Please, Anthony! Look at his arm! There might be a bite! I was trying to save him!"

"Save him?" Anthony scoffed. He leaned down, his eyes cold and empty. "You're jealous, Amber. You're jealous because your son is dead and hers is alive. You wanted to hurt him."

"I didn't! I swear on Alexus's grave!"

"Don't you dare speak his name," Anthony hissed. He turned to the police officers who had just arrived. "Take her away. She's a threat to my family."

"But sir—" one officer started.

"Take her!" Anthony roared. "Or I'll have your badges!"

They dragged me out.

I kicked and screamed, begging them to check Leo's arm, begging them to listen. But they just shoved me into the back of the cruiser. The door slammed shut, sealing me in darkness.

I spent the night in a cell.

It was cold. It smelled of urine and despair. I huddled in the corner, shivering, my hospital gown thin and useless. I closed my eyes and saw Alexus's face. I saw the spider. I saw Alicia's triumphant smile through her fake tears.

They left me there to rot.

The next morning, the cell door clanked open.

"You made bail," the guard grunted.

I stumbled out into the blinding sunlight. My body ached. My spirit was bruised.

A black car was waiting at the curb. The window rolled down.

Anthony.

He didn't look at me. He looked straight ahead. "Get in."

I hesitated. I wanted to run. I wanted to scream. But I had nowhere to go. My accounts were frozen. My family was gone.

I got in.

The drive was silent. Suffocating.

When we pulled up to the mansion, Alicia was waiting on the porch. She looked fresh, rested. She was wearing a white dress, looking like an angel.

She walked down the steps as I got out of the car.

"Beg her," Anthony said, stepping out behind me.

I froze. "What?"

"Beg Alicia for forgiveness," Anthony said flatly. "She's the only reason I bailed you out. She dropped the charges. You owe her."

I looked at Alicia. She was smiling that sweet, poisonous smile.

"Come on, Amber," she cooed. "You owe me. I saved you from prison. You could have rotted in there for years for attempted assault on a minor."

"I didn't assault him," I whispered, my voice shaking with rage. "I was saving him from a spider."

"Liar," Anthony snapped. "Apologize. Now."

"No," I said.

Alicia's smile faltered. "Amber, please. Don't be difficult. I'm trying to help you."

"Help me?" I laughed, a broken, hysterical sound. "You ruined me!”

I raised my hand and slapped her.

Crack.

The sound echoed across the lawn. Alicia stumbled back, clutching her cheek.

But before I could even take a breath, a hand grabbed my hair and yanked my head back.

Pain exploded in my scalp.

Anthony threw me to the ground. I landed hard on the gravel, scraping my palms and knees.

"You ungrateful bitch!" he roared. He kicked me in the ribs.

I gasped for air, curling into a ball.

"Anthony, stop!" Alicia cried, rushing to his side. She grabbed his arm, her eyes wide with fake concern. "Don't hurt her! She's just... confused. She's grieving."

She looked down at me, pity oozing from her pores.

"It's okay, Anthony," she said softly. "I forgive her. I know she's not herself. We have to be patient."

Anthony looked at her, his anger melting into adoration. "You are too good for this world, Alicia."

He looked back down at me with pure hatred.

"You're lucky she's a saint," he spat. "Because if it were up to me, I'd leave you in the gutter."

I lay there in the dirt, tears streaming down my face. I was broken. Defeated.

"Please," I whispered. "Just let me go."

"Oh, no," Anthony sneered. "You're not going anywhere. Not after what you just did."

He leaned down, his voice low and menacing.

"You want to stay in this house? Fine. But you won't be the mistress of the manor anymore. You've proven you can't be trusted."

He straightened up, adjusting his cuffs.

"From now on, you're the maid. You'll cook. You'll clean. You'll serve Alicia and Leo. Until you decide to fix yourself."

My blood ran cold.

"A... maid?"

"Yes," Alicia said, beaming. "It will be good for you, Amber. Hard work builds character. And it will keep you busy so you don't have time to... imagine things. After all, where would you go without my mercy?”

The next few weeks were a nightmare.

I scrubbed floors until my knees bled. I washed dishes until my hands were raw. I watched them eat dinner at my table while I stood in the corner, waiting to clear their plates.

Every night, Anthony would make me sit and watch the news.

"Look at this," he'd say, pointing at the screen. "See how happy we are?"

On the screen, Anthony and Alicia were at a charity gala. He had his arm around her waist. She was wearing my diamonds.

I sat there on the floor, hugging my knees, watching them erase me. But something shifted in me as I watched them.

The pain didn't lessen. The grief didn't fade. But the fear... the fear began to turn into something else.

Cold. Hard. Resolve.

I stood up.

"I'm done," I said to the empty room.

I went to the drawer where I kept my mail.

I pulled out a thick envelope that had arrived that morning. It was from a law firm.

I tore it open.

PETITION FOR DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE

Sebastian finally started our plan.

"Leo! He’s not breathing!"

The scream tore through the morning silence like a jagged knife.

I jolted awake, my heart hammering against my ribs.

I ran toward the dining room.

Alicia was on the floor, clutching Leo. His face was turning a terrifying shade of red. He was gasping, his small hands clawing at his throat.

"What happened?" I cried, dropping to my knees beside them.

"He ate a cookie!" Alicia shrieked, her eyes wild. "He’s allergic to peanuts! You know he’s allergic!"

She pointed a trembling finger at the plate on the table. Peanut butter cookies.

"I didn't give him that," I stammered, panic rising in my throat. "I didn't bake anything today! I just woke up!"

"Liar!" Alicia screamed. "You put them there! You tried to poison him because you hate him!"

Anthony rushed into the room, his face pale. He saw Leo gasping and immediately grabbed the EpiPen from the counter, jamming it into the boy's thigh.

Leo let out a wail, air rushing back into his lungs.

Anthony turned to me. His eyes were not human. They were the eyes of a wolf looking at a wounded rabbit. He grabbed me by the arm and dragged me to the basement door.

"No," I begged, digging my heels into the floor. "Anthony, please! Not the basement! You know I can't—please, it's too small!"

I was claustrophobic. He knew that. He knew that ever since I was a child, tight, dark spaces made me feel like I was dying.

"You should have thought of that before you tried to kill Leo," he spat.

He shoved me down the stairs.

I tumbled into the darkness. The heavy oak door slammed shut.

Click.

The lock turned.

"Anthony!" I screamed, pounding on the wood. "Anthony, please! I can't breathe in here! Open the door!"

Silence.

I was alone in the dark. The air was stale, smelling of mold and old fear. I curled into a ball at the bottom of the stairs, rocking back and forth. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to imagine I was in a field, under the sky.

But all I could see were walls. Closing in. Crushing me.

When the door finally opened, the light blinded me.

"Get up," Anthony’s voice drifted down. "Dinner needs to be cooked."

I crawled up the stairs, my limbs stiff, my throat raw from screaming. I blinked against the harsh hallway lights.

"I... I need to change," I rasped. "I need to wash my face."

"Make it quick," he said, turning his back on me.

I stumbled toward my room. I froze.

The room was empty. My clothes were gone. The photos of Alexus I had hidden under the mattress were gone. The blanket that smelled like him—gone.

I ran to the window.

Outside, in the center of the manicured lawn, a fire was burning. A metal barrel was spewing black smoke into the gray sky.

I sprinted through the house, out the back door, and across the grass.

I reached the barrel.

The heat seared my face. Inside, the flames were devouring fabric. Blue fabric. Dinosaur patterns.

"No," I whimpered.

I reached in, trying to grab a burning piece of cloth, but the heat forced me back.

It was Alexus’s blanket. His clothes. The few toys I had managed to save.

I fell to my knees, watching the last physical pieces of my son disappear.

"Why?" I sobbed into the grass. "Why are you doing this?"

I stayed there until the fire died down to embers. Until there was nothing left but gray dust.

Numbly, I walked back into the house.

I walked down the hallway, my eyes fixed on the floor.

Then I heard a sound.

Shake. Shake. Shake.

I looked up.

Leo was sitting in the middle of the hallway. He was holding something heavy. Something marble.

My breath hitched.

The urn.

Alexus’s urn.

Leo was holding it upside down. He was shaking it violently.

"Rocket ship!" Leo giggled, banging the urn against the floor. "Empty rocket ship!"

I felt my soul leave my body.

"Stop!" I shrieked.

I lunged forward, snatching the urn from his hands. I clutched it to my chest, falling to my knees.

I frantically pulled the lid off.

I looked inside.

Empty.

Clean.

There was nothing. No ash. No bone fragments. No Alexus.

"Where is he?" I whispered, my voice trembling so hard it hurt. I looked at Leo. "Where is he?!"

Leo looked scared. He pointed toward the trash chute at the end of the hall.

"It was just dirt," he whimpered. "I dumped the dirt so the rocket could fly."

I screamed.

"What is going on here?"

Alicia stepped out of her room, looking annoyed. She saw me clutching the empty urn. She saw Leo crying.

"Oh," she said, her voice dripping with fake boredom. "He must have thrown it away. Honestly, Amber, you shouldn't leave such morbid things lying around where children can find them."

"You..." I choked out. "You let him..."

I stood up. The empty urn fell from my hands and shattered on the floor.

I didn't care. He wasn't in there anymore. He was gone. Truly gone.

Anthony looked up from his desk, startled.

"Divorce me!" I screamed. "Divorce me now! Let me go!"

I slammed my hands on his desk. I was sobbing, my tears dripping onto his expensive paperwork.

"Just let me go, Anthony! Please! I can't do this anymore!"

Anthony looked at me. He didn't look angry. He didn't look sad.

He laughed. A cold, dry chuckle that sent shivers down my spine.

"Let you go?" he asked, leaning back in his leather chair. "Why would I do that?"

"Because you hate me!" I cried. "Because you have Alicia! Because you have your son!"

"I don't just want you gone, Amber," he said softly. "I want you miserable. I want you to suffer every single day for the rest of your life."

"Why?" I whispered. "I loved you. I gave you everything. You’re hurting me for no reason! You don't love me anymore, fine—but why this cruelty?"

Anthony stood up. His face hardened into stone.

"I'm returning the favor," he said.

"What?"

"You think you're the victim?" He walked around the desk, stopping inches from my face. "You’re the one who cheated on me first."

My mouth fell open. "I... I never..."

"Don't lie to me!" he roared, slamming his fist against the wall. "Alicia told me everything, and the DNA proved that Alexus is not my son!”