Chapter 2

I spent an entire day getting my emotions back under control. When I came home that evening, Eliana Harding was sprawled across the sofa eating imported cherries, giggling at some show.

She was wearing one of the designer nightgowns I'd brought back from the States. Ninety-nine hundred dollars apiece.

Ten of them, different styles, all ordered by me.

Because I wanted to make up for everything I owed Layla.

Phil was busy in the kitchen, making dinner and simmering a pot of chicken soup, wearing the loungewear I'd bought him at the luxury boutique.

Three thousand a set.

Seeing me come in, my daughter got up, cradling her slightly rounded belly, and wrapped her arms around me.

"Mom, you shouldn't wear yourself out at the company anymore. You've got Phil now. What is there left to worry about?"

Phil came out just then, carrying the soup.

"Mom, taste this. I just finished it."

He blew on it carefully and held the spoon out to me, watching me with a nervous look.

I pressed down the ache in my chest, took a small sip, and forced up a smile.

"Not bad. Phil's cooking keeps getting better."

Eliana raised her eyebrows and said happily,

"Of course it does. With a wife as good as me, how could he not be a catch?"

Phil gave a gentle smile too and reached over to pull Eliana against him.

"Taking care of my wife and being a good son to you is what I should do. I'm an orphan with no family of my own. Ellie gave me a whole family."

He held Ellie close and kissed her on the forehead.

Eliana nestled into his arms and started listing off all the designer baby things I'd bought her, then lifted her chin and showed off proudly,

"Phil, Mom loves me best. She said once I have the second baby, the shares go to us, and you'll officially be the CEO of Harding Group."

A flash of wild joy crossed Phil's eyes, and his expression turned even gentler in an instant.

"You've worked so hard, sweetheart. From now on I'll take good care of you and the children, and be a devoted son to Mom. I won't let all her grooming go to waste."

I studied my daughter and son-in-law through half-lowered eyes. My daughter, lively and cheerful, dutiful and sweet-tongued. My son-in-law, refined and courteous. At their wedding, everyone had told me how lucky I was.

They even had an adorable daughter in an international school, and now a second baby on the way.

I pressed down the churning inside me and dug my nails hard into my palm.

No. Eliana was the child I'd raised with my own hands, always good, always sensible. She wouldn't.

Layla's death couldn't have been her doing.

At that thought my heart drowned in fresh tears, and Job Finch's words rang in my ears.

"Ms. Harding, the young lady collapsed once from anemia. She kept her monthly living expenses to three hundred dollars. Her heaviest recorded weight was eighty-six pounds."

I slowly set the soup down and probed carefully.

"Phil, it hasn't been easy for you, all on your own. Did you have any good friends at the orphanage? Someone we could look after."

Phil's face tensed at once, and he straightened up to explain.

"Mom, what friends could there be at an orphanage? All I ever thought about growing up was studying hard and making something of myself. I hardly ever ran around with those people."

"And now all I care about is running the company well. Why would I still keep in touch with them?"

Something in my chest dropped, and my gaze couldn't help sharpening.

Phil. He was lying.

Watching how quickly Phil composed himself, I found I didn't know how to open my mouth.

Just then my phone buzzed, over and over. I opened the message, and in an instant every drop of blood in me froze, my whole body plunged into ice.

The message was only a few lines.

"Ms. Harding, Miss Eliana had contact with the young lady too. At one point things blew up loudly between the three of them and Mr. Whitney."

"Miss Eliana hired people to teach the young lady a lesson. They broke her arm."

"The young lady's cause of death was hemorrhaging during a miscarriage. They say the child was some street thug's, and it seems the young lady was also being abused by them. Others say she kept improper relations with them for money. I'm still investigating the final truth."

Then came several photos.

My daughter walking through the lobby of my Harding Group. Eliana, her face twisted, swinging her hand and slapping Layla across the face. Layla on the floor, congee from an overturned thermos spilled all across the ground beside her.

Everyone crowded around Layla as she knelt there in disgrace, kneeling before Ellie.

I forced my eyes wide and stared at the photos, and I remembered that before the wedding, a girl had come to the company saying she was Phil's girlfriend. Ellie had even quarreled with Phil over it for a while.

Later Phil explained that she was a friend from the orphanage, one who'd always liked him and kept clinging to him, that he'd never had any feelings for her.

After that, I was buried in work and left those young-people's affairs alone.

I never imagined that girl was my Layla.

I stared at my daughter's hand resting on my shoulder, kneading it.

That was the very hand that had once slapped Layla across the face, and spread the rumors that she'd seduced Phil, that she was clawing her way up to money and power.

That very hand may even have used my money, transferring it to hire street thugs to corner Layla, to torment and abuse her, to spread every kind of lie.

Looking at the photos, wave after wave of suffocation blackened my vision. I couldn't imagine how helpless Layla had been then, how that small, thin body of hers had endured those fists and kicks, those cruel whispers.

My gentle, sweet Ellie, how could she be so vicious, so overbearing?

They were heartless enough to have killed my Layla.

My daughter looked at me, puzzled.

"Mom, you don't look well. Did something happen today?"

Phil spoke up right on cue.

"Mom, if you really feel off, go to the hospital and get checked. Maybe your heart's acting up again."

"Oh, right, Mom, I got you a wellness membership at Cloudcrest Manor. Go stay there a couple of months, rest for a while."

I slowly pushed myself upright, forcing fresh air into my lungs, holding down the fury surging through me.

No. My Layla was still waiting for me. I couldn't fall apart.

Three minutes later I sat up calmly, and slowly drank the soup that had gone cold to steady myself.

"It's nothing."

"Phil, Eliana's pregnant, and I'm getting old, and the two of you already have two children. I really do mean to arrange the family shares early. I want to transfer them into your names."

The words were barely out before joy lit up both their faces. Eliana's eyes brightened, and she leaned in at once, hooking her arm through mine and nuzzling against my arm.

"I knew Mom loved me best. Thank you, Mom."

Phil got to his feet as well, his tone growing more respectful and humble.

"Thank you, Mom. I'll run the company well, and honor you for the rest of your life."

I smiled and slowly rose, walking toward the bedroom.

The moment the door closed, all the warmth drained out of my eyes. I called up an old friend.

"Joel James, look into everything Phil Whitney's been doing at the company. I want my company back."