Chapter 3

I said coldly, "You're not welcome in my home. Leave now!"

Dana frowned. "Millie is a guest. How can you be so rude?"

Millie wasn't the least bit upset. She got up and started wandering around, sizing up the house, every word laced with barbs:

"This cabinet looks so dated. Why hasn't it been thrown out yet?"

"This sweater's all stretched out. It should've been in the trash ages ago."

"Oh my, what kind of ugly jar is this? Why is it sitting on the table?"

As she spoke, Millie reached out to pick it up, and then it slipped from her hand.

I lunged to catch it, tripped over the chair, and fell to the floor.

The urn shattered right beside my ear, shards of porcelain flying and cutting my face.

I hadn't wanted to look weak in front of Millie, but I couldn't stop the tears no matter what.

So close, just a hair more...

I scrambled up, knelt down, and gathered the ashes together with my hands.

The porcelain shards sliced my palm, and blood stained the ashes, impossible to clean off.

Dana walked over, and Millie clutched at her chest:

"Dana, I accidentally broke a jar."

Dana's eyes were only on the unharmed Millie. "Millie, are you alright?"

"It's just a broken jar. So it broke, no big deal."

Dana pulled Millie into his arms to comfort her, and the two of them stepped on the ashes.

My eyes went red, and I stood up and slapped Millie hard across the face.

Dana shielded her in his arms. "Nadia, what's gotten into you?"

"If you're angry, come at me! What does it have to do with Millie?"

I slapped Dana across the face and cried out, choking:

"Get out of the way!"

Dana looked down, saw the ashes and bloodstains all over the floor, and understood in an instant.

He paused for a moment, then fetched iodine and gauze and bent down to tend to my wound:

"Nadia, Millie surely didn't do it on purpose."

A flicker of jealousy crossed Millie's eyes as she chimed in:

"Nadia, I really didn't mean to."

"But who keeps an urn out in such an obvious spot? That's not really appropriate."

Prompted by Millie's words, Dana frowned at me:

"You put the urn right under my nose just to remind me, didn't you?"

"I already married you and gave you a home. What more do you want?"

"Dana, I never forced you to marry me!"

"I want the two of you to kneel and apologize to my father!"

Millie tugged at the hem of Dana's shirt, and Dana's eyes were full of disgust:

"Nadia! Haven't you made enough of a scene? Are the dead more important than the living?"

"The reason you didn't want a divorce before was that you had nowhere to go, wasn't it?"

"Your parents are both dead. Where else could you go?"

I couldn't hold it in any longer and screamed:

"Dana, do you have any conscience at all? My father died because of you!"

"You once promised me you'd give me a home!"

"Why did you change? Why did you bring this bitch into our home?!"

A smug glint flashed in Millie's eyes, while Dana wore nothing but disgust on his face:

"Nadia, look at the state of you. You're like a madwoman."

Millie toyed with her hair. "Nadia's terrifying when she loses it. No wonder she can't hold on to a man."

Dana wrapped an arm around Millie. "Take a good look at yourself and think it over. Millie and I are going out to eat."

Their words stung me, and I hurried to the mirror to look at myself.

Hair a mess, face still streaked with drying tears and blood—wasn't that exactly a crazy woman?

My parents surely wouldn't want to see me like this, and Yaya couldn't have a mother like this either.

A home in this state would hurt Yaya sooner or later.

Maybe divorce was the best choice after all.

I contacted a lawyer to draft a divorce agreement and forwarded it to Dana.

I printed another copy and tucked it into my bag.

Over the next few days, Dana devoted himself to his little girlfriend and didn't reply to any messages.

I ignored him too. I'd already made up my mind to divorce, so whatever he did had nothing to do with me.

Until one day, when I went to pick Yaya up from school as usual, the preschool teacher told me Yaya had already been picked up.

A chill shot through me in an instant, and with trembling hands I called Dana:

"Did you take Yaya?"