Chapter 1
According to the rules, relatives were not allowed to view the process at crematorium.
Supported by the icy steel bed, Sylvia Lloyd paid her way into the crematorium's inner sanctum.
The air was tinged with the scent of burning, intermingled with the ash that danced in the sunlight. Perhaps it
was someone's ashes. Soon, her precious daughter would becjust that.
Sylvia was clad in a long black dress that barely covered her gaunt freven in the smallest size, her eyes,
swollen and red from crying, now held a serene calm.
She reached out to touch the cold, stiff hand that protruded from beneath the white shroud, and into her
daughter's palm, she placed two pink paper stars. "Wait for me, Stella."
Tseemed to stand still until a worker approached, pulling Sylvia away to reveal Stella's face under the
shroud.
At eight years old, Stella was frail and thin, her ribcage starkly defined, with a noticeable dip at the bottom.
Sylvia's tears welled up again as she gazed at that dip. She had failed to protect Stella.
The worker, attempting consolation, softly said, "Sorry for your loss. At least your daughter's kidney saved
another child, who will now live a happy life in her stead."
A cold flash passed through Sylvia's eyes, a bitter smile forming, "Yes, that child happens to be my husband's
illegitimate son. Right now, they're celebrating his grand birthday party. Did you know? Today is also my
daughter's birthday." The worker was taken aback, unable to comfort the despairing woman before him.
Looking at Stella, Sylvia forced a pale smile, "Go ahead, let's not delay. | hope my daughter finds a better life
next time."
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With a sigh and a shake of his head, the worker prepared to move the body to the furnace, perhaps out of
sympathy, shielding Sylvia from the process.
But Sylvia wasn't afraid; Stella was finally at peace, no longer despised by her own father.
"Why doesn't Daddy like me, Mommy?"
"Why does Daddy like Ms. Simpson's son?"
"Is Daddy mean to you because of me? I'm sorry, Mommy."
Her precious daughter, destroyed by Rupert Garcia's actions!
Before her birthday, he had promised a trip to the biggest amusement park, a dream day with her father.
Instead, he had put her in a surgery room to donate a kidney to his son, leaving her to die alone from an
infection.
Sylvia was the last to know, and couldn't forget the moment she charged into the ward, only to find her
daughter's lifeless body. The ironic thing was that a blood-stained children's watch lay beside her, dialing her
father's number. And yet the only response was a cold, "Stop acting crazy like your mother."
Hearing the busy line, Sylvia had held back tears and hugged her daughter, fearing her sobs would scare her
precious child.
In fact, ever since Bridget Simpson returned from abroad with her son, boldly accusing Sylvia of harming them,
Rupert had made her a madwoman, the talk of the town.
Especially to think how Rupert stared
at her and her daughter when he
listened to Bridget's tales of hardship
and her son's prematurd big with
kidney. Dees! He was the epitof
elegance, yet at the meanwhile he
looked extremely fierce and stern.
Ignoring Sylvia's pleas, he cursed,
"You've harmed Bridget and my son,
Sylvia. I'll let you pay double the
price." The content is on
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chapter there!
And so, Rupert had his revenge. Everything ended.
As Sylvia was awakened from her
memories, she found herself caring
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a pink urn in hephand€Osielia’s
FAR doRr. The grip on the urn
tightened, she said, "Let's go home,
Stella." The content is on
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chapter there!
The wind lifted her dress, a sorrowful figure beneath the sun's gaze.
Returning to the marital hshe shared with Rupert, Sylvia tidied her daughter's belongings, and then sat
holding the urn until evening.
A parking sound cfrom outside.
Soon, a sharp, black pyreee in;
it was Rupert Fiahtbe s'passed,
ahd His presence was as imposing
and magnetic as the day they met.