The dinner party hosted west of the city was bustling with excitement.

The influential Killian Blackwood from the revered Blackwood family was being escorted by Vera Robert and their son.

Of course it was quite the entrance of the night, attracting admiring comments.

There were rumors that Vera was once the unrequited love of Killian's life but he patiently waited. Now, after many years, it seemed his patience had finally paid off.

Amid the intertwining courses of the dinner, many heartfelt compliments were paid to this model family. But even with all this, some people couldn't help but whisper a name.

Coral Blackwood. Killian's wife.

Halfway through the banquet, a bodyguard rushed up to Killian: "Sir, my deepest condolences."

A layer of frost covered Killian's handsome, cold face. "What do you mean by this?”

"Your daughter...she passed away due to complications after her surgery. The funeral arrangements were made by Madam Blackwood today."

Killian expressionlessly sipped his wine, "how much did Coral pay you to disturb my evening?"

"T-the death certificate was already sent to you. You had even acknowledged the receipt, sir. M-madam did not p-pay me anything, sir."

Hearing this, Vera unconsciously tightened her grip on her son's small hand.

At this moment, Killian's phone rang.

"Sir, your villa is on fire!" Shouted the voice on the other end.

With a tremble in his hands, the wine glass shattered on the floor. Killian didn't utter another word and turned to leave immediately.

***

Coral sat on the balcony, holding her daughter's ashes the whole day. She remembered the scene of sending Claire for cremation in the morning.

In the crematorium, there was a rule that family members could not personally witness the cremation process. Ethics, they said.

It was only after paying a heavy price that Coral got to push the cold cart into the incinerator's chamber.

The air was filled with intense heat and floating dust, possibly remnants of ashes.

Coral, in a black long skirt, looked extremely thin— as though all that was left of her was skin and bones. Her clothes could barely hang onto her frame

Her swollen eyes had already run dry from crying, but she was surprisingly calm at that moment.

She lightly touched the small, cold and stiff hand under the white cloth; tucking two tiny pink doll figures into her daughter's palm. They were small enough to just fit.

"Claire, don’t be scared, okay? Momma's right here."

Time was up.

The staff came forward to separate Coral, pulling back the white cloth, revealing Claire's face.

The eight-year-old girl was so skinny it was shocking; her ribs were clearly visible, and her abdomen was hollow.

Focusing on that hollow spot, Coral started to weep again, losing whatever composure she had.

"It's my fault! I couldn't protect her. My baby…" she thought

The staff member said in a low and comforting voice, "please calm down. Your daughter was an angel. Her kidney saved another child's life. That child will live well on behalf of your daughter."

A hint of anger flashed in Coral's eyes, her lips curved up in a sarcastic smile.

That child who was saved was her husband's illegitimate son.

At this moment, they were hosting a grand birthday party for that child. But today was also their daughter's birthday.

The staff delivered the body to the crematorium.

Coral began to laugh; salty tears streaming down into her mouth

To her, Claire was finally free.

She no longer had to endure her father's cold attitude. She no longer needed to feel less than anyone.

Momma, why doesn't daddy like me?

Momma, why does daddy like aunt's Vera's son more than me?

Momma, is it because of me that daddy doesn't like you? I'm sorry, momma.

Her sweet, loving child.

Everything was ruined by Killian…

It had all started when he promised to take Claire to the amusement park which she loved so much. It was a wish of hers to spend some time with her father.

Even Coral was surprised but happy.

But it was all a ploy— under this excuse, he had taken Claire to the hospital that day to be a kidney donor for his illegitimate son who had been sick for months.

It was only afterwards she had been informed and had to watch helplessly as her daughter laid alone on the hospital bed.

That was three months ago.

She never got better though; passing away due to an infection— dying on the night before her birthday.

Coral would never forget the moment she rushed into the hospital room, only to see her daughter's lifeless body.

At the head of the bed, the screen of the child's watch stained with blood was still futilely dialing her dad's number.

After the call had connected, all he said coldly was,

"I told you to stop calling me, girl. It's the middle of the fucking night!"

Beep, beep, beep...

Listening to the busy signal, Coral hugged her daughter tightly; holding back her tears, fearing that crying would scare her little angel.

Even if she was dead and gone.

Ever since Vera came back to the country with her child; farming so much publicity and accusing Coral of maltreating her and her son, Killian totally sidelined her and spoilt her name publicly. She was now considered a crazy wife.

It was only the beginning of her problems.

When Killian heard Vera's lamentations, things became worse for Coral. Stories of how Vera had been displaced abroad and had given birth to a premature baby with kidney problems was enough to make Coral lose her stance.

Her husband who was usually polite and gentle had turned out to be so vicious.

No matter how she explained, he still gritted his teeth and said, "Coral, you hurt Vera and my son, I want you to pay back doubly."

Killian had succeeded though. Claire was dead.

Coral came back to her senses, looking again at the pink urn in her hands.

It was her little girl's favorite color.

The morning before the dinner party— when Coral had come home from the hospital clutching the urn of ashes— Killian just went upstairs without sparing a glance.

This was how he had been torturing her for the eight years of their marriage.

Whenever he felt like venting, he would press her down on the bed. And after, he would leave without even giving a glance.

Coral was reminded again about today's scene when Killian went out to attend Vera's son's birthday dinner.

He had changed into that suit he cherished for years, ready to go out. It was the same suit that was designed for him by Vera herself when Coral was getting engaged to him.

Eight long years had passed since then.

Yet, Killian remained the same captivating and mysterious man she had known.

Regrettably, Coral was as transparent and naive as ever.

As for their child…

He even forbade Claire from calling him "Dad."

Perhaps Coral was too quiet before he left; maybe that was why Killian halted his steps, not turning back.

"I won't come back tonight, tell Claire not to call me on that stupid watch of hers."

"Alright."

Coral gently stroked the vessel in her arms that still seemed to hold Claire's lingering warmth.

If only he could take a look at her— see their dead child’s ashes in her hands.

But he did not.

Instead, Killian adjusted his cufflinks, speaking coldly, "consider what you want for the divorce. We'll go through the procedures in a few days. I don't want the child."

"Mm.” Coral remained calm.

Just as well. Claire would now belong only to her.

Killian's movement suddenly paused, but he still did not look at Coral.

"In consideration for Claire who saved Brian's life, I will cover all the medical and feeding expenses in the future. But I don't want to see you anymore. Consider this a favor."

"That's fine."

Coral was thinking that it wouldn't be long before they parted ways.

Annoyed for no reason, Killian was about to turn away when Vera's call came in.

As soon as the phone was answered, the excited voice of a child came from the other end of the quiet room.

"Daddy! Come quickly! Mommy and I are waiting for you."

"I'll be there soon."

Killian spoke in a cheerful tone, unconsciously quickening his steps.

He didn't notice at all; the woman behind him tightly holding something in her arms, her body gradually stiffening.

These memories like merciless torture, cruelly cut into Coral's flesh and blood.

She clung to the urn: "Claire, Mom will come to be with you soon."

The breeze blew in from the window, lifting the woman's long skirt, making it seem so desolate under the moon’s silver light.

Coral took out the cake she had prepared for Claire from the fridge.

As the candle flame flickered, she hummed a birthday song while holding a kerosene keg.

She coated every corner; from the ceilings to the basement.

She didn't intend to leave herself a way out at all.

If she could have been stronger back then, refusing to marry Killian, none of this would have happened.

She returned to the dining table and clung tightly to the urn.

"Happy birthday, darling. Mom's here to celebrate it with you."

With a soft flick from Coral, the candle flew towards the curtain.

**

The moment he sprinted to the villa and saw the blazing house, Killian felt as if he had been brutally stabbed.

At the instant the curtain over the downstairs glass windows fell, he saw Coral sitting down, eating a birthday cake, holding the urn in her arms.

She gave him a familiar smile, just like the one she had when they first met.

"Goodbye, Mr. Killian Blackwood. I hate you with all my heart."

“If I could have a second chance—”

Before she could finish her sentence, a beam of burning wood fell on her.

She might have been dreaming; but it seemed that Killian was kneeling on the ground, screaming.

She could hear no sounds though. Who cared?

Her little Claire came to pick her up.

"Momma! momma!!"

The tides of destiny were changing, spinning.

Mother fate seemed to laugh. It was time to watch this drama unfold.