Chapter 3

The security guard scratched his head, at a loss, and could only say,

"I'm so sorry. You can go in now."

My daughter, her eyes red, turned to look at me.

I took her hand and shook my head at the young man.

"We're not going in."

And we wouldn't be stepping into Thomas Gilbert's world anymore either.

This time, my daughter didn't refuse.

Half an hour later, we got home.

I refreshed my feed and saw a new post from Molly, a diamond necklace around her neck, captioned:

Riding on a kid's coattails—someone really spent a fortune.

I remembered that necklace. Before we got married, he'd promised he would give it to me.

I smiled, a little bitter.

He remembered the necklace.

But he forgot it was meant for me.

The next second, a message from Thomas popped up.

Where are you two? Molly has a live stream later, she won't have time to help you pick out gifts.

I didn't reply. I closed the chat.

I tapped into another conversation.

Ina, I've booked your and Zoey's plane tickets.

Your mom and I will be waiting for the two of you to come home.

My eyes stung, and I sent back an "okay."

Where there's love, that's home.

I put my phone away and went back to my room to pack.

When Thomas was young, he wrote me love letter after love letter, enough to fill a whole drawer.

It wasn't that the sweet words had been fake—it was that hearts change.

Back then, Molly and I were in a car accident together.

Thomas ran to me first.

And because of that, Molly went into premature labor and was left with lasting health problems.

From then on, Thomas always felt he owed Molly and her child.

And so my daughter and I were naturally pushed aside, and he always had his reasons.

I threw the love letters into the trash, but just then I heard a scream outside my door.

I hurried over and found my daughter clutching a wooden box, her face streaked with tears.

When she saw me, she burst into tears and threw herself into my arms.

"Mom, my money…"

"All the money I've saved over the years is gone."

My heart sank.

Just then, the sound of a key turning came from the front door.

Thomas walked in carrying a box.

His thin lips were pressed tight, his face dark as he looked over.

Then, caught off guard, his eyes landed on my daughter's red, swollen eyes.

Thomas froze for a moment, then came over and saw the wooden box in my hands.

Something unnatural flickered across his usually cold face, and he coughed lightly.

I stared straight at him.

"It was you."

Thomas said nothing.

Seeing this, my daughter stumbled forward and grabbed his sleeve.

"That's my money—what right do you have to take it!"

Thomas's surging anger buried that faint flicker of guilt.

"Where would you get money? It was all given to you by me."

"Enough. We're done talking about this!"

Before my daughter or I could say anything more, Thomas cut us off coldly.

Before slamming the door and leaving, he didn't forget one last line.

"The gifts in that box were all carefully picked out by Molly."

"We report tomorrow. Molly and the others are coming with us, so remember to thank her in person then."

Bang—the door shut.

I wanted to rush out after him, but my daughter held me back.

"Mom, let this money settle everything between me and him."

I was stunned. My daughter went on.

"From now on, I don't have a father."

She choked the words out, and each one landed dead center in my heart.

I held her tight, tears pouring down my face.

My daughter stood up, tore to pieces the promise notes she'd kept for so long, and threw them all into the wooden box.

The promise notes.

Things my daughter had wanted, but that Thomas had never made good on in time.

Before, my daughter had treasured those little notes.

I never imagined the day would come when she would choose to tear them up.

Thomas had made so many promises, but he had never kept a single one for his daughter.

Meanwhile, whenever Molly and her daughter asked—whether for enrichment classes, trips abroad, designer jewelry, or anything else—

Thomas had always given them whatever they wanted.

There was a knock at the door.

When I opened it, I saw a package sitting on the floor.