Single Mom's Payback

"Mommy, will Daddy really come to see me?"

My daughter clutched her blood-stained stuffed rabbit, her bright eyes slowly going dim. "Mommy, I'm so cold."

I held her tight. "Milly, Daddy's on his way. Just hold on a little longer."

Milly's hand went slack. The rabbit slipped from her fingers, fell off the edge of the bed, and hit the floor.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Smith. We did everything we could. Your daughter passed away from blood loss sustained in the accident. Time of death: 4:00 AM, May 13th."

The cold started in my chest and spread outward until I couldn't feel anything. Blood dripped from my fingers onto the floor, pooling into a dark red that reflected my face—just as covered in blood as hers had been.

Today was George Smith's birthday.

A month ago, Milly had defeated the daughter of the Blue Moon Clan's leader in a competition, bringing honor to the Triple Grove Clan. George had finally agreed to let her attend his birthday party this year.

She had spent half a month preparing his gift by hand, pricking her small fingers over and over in the process.

This morning she put on her prettiest dress and waited for him to come and pick her up.

She waited until late into the night. George never came.

Milly begged me to call him. That was how we found out the party had already started.

George was there with Jack Smith—his son with Sarah Wilson—introducing him to everyone in the Triple Grove Clan.

I remember thinking how absurd it was. Milly had trained until her body was covered in bruises, falling and getting back up again, all to win that competition, all to earn a single smile from her father.

Jack had done nothing and walked into that party on George's arm without a second thought.

All of it came down to one thing: Milly had come from an accident, an unplanned pregnancy George had never wanted.

Jack was the son of his first love, Sarah Wilson.

Eight years ago I nearly bled to death delivering Milly six weeks early. She was taken straight to an incubator. The doctors didn't think she would survive three days.

I dragged myself out of bed, still barely able to stand, and waited outside the ward—only to watch George personally escort Sarah into the delivery room.

When she came out, he had flowers ready for her. He thanked her for what she'd been through.

When Sarah later went abroad to study, he brought Jack home and raised him himself.

I should have understood then. The distance between Sarah and me in his eyes was not something Milly could ever cross. How could she compete with Jack?

When they were small, even when Milly was crying from hunger, George made me feed Jack first.

As they got older, Milly had to be perfect just to get him to glance in her direction.

Jack only had to say something sweet and George's face would soften.

Over time everyone around George had come to see Jack as the future heir.

Some even whispered that Milly wasn't George's child at all—that she was mine with another man.

The doctor stood in front of me, holding out the cremation consent form. "Mrs. Smith, hasn't the child's father arrived yet?"

I took the form from him. "The child's father is busy with his other son."

The doctor didn't know what to say. He added quietly, "The arrangements can't be put off much longer."

I walked out holding the urn, my eyes so swollen I could barely see, my chest weighted down with something that felt too heavy to carry.

The wind picked up and threw my hair across my face. I pushed it aside and saw it in the distance—the east intersection of Cross Street.

Where the accident happened.

When I first found out the party had already started, I hadn't planned to take Milly at all.

But she begged me. She said she just wanted to stand outside and see her father from a distance.

I gave in and drove her there.

The east intersection of Cross Street.

That black SUV came at us without slowing.

The license plate had been tampered with, but I saw the driver clearly. He worked for the leader of the Blue Moon Clan.

The Blue Moon Clan and the Triple Grove Clan had been at war for years.

George was always surrounded by bodyguards—there was no clean way to get to him directly.

So they went after the people around him instead.

They had been watching Jack. But after that competition, they started watching Milly.

Milly had only entered that competition to get her father's attention.

George was the reason for all of it.

I took a breath and dialed his number for the twelfth time.

This time it connected.

He had been drinking. His voice was loose and irritable. "Do you have any idea what time it is? What do you want?"

He was always like this with me.

"Where are you? I need you to sign something." I asked.

George let out a short, mocking laugh. "Divorce papers again? Grace, you do this every year on my birthday. Doesn't it get old?"

My chest tightened. I swallowed the sob before it could come out. "It's not divorce papers, it's—"

"I'm not interested." He cut me off.

In the background I heard Jack's bright, easy voice. "Daddy, can Mommy really sleep in the same room with us tonight?"

George didn't even lower the phone. "Whatever you want."

"Don't spoil him." Sarah's voice, close and playful. "If I actually sleep in your bed tonight, Grace will come after me tomorrow."

Only then did George seem to remember the call was still open. His voice cooled. "I won't be home tonight."

The line went dead before I could say anything.

It didn't matter.

Not just tonight.

I held the urn against my chest and felt, for the first time in years, something close to calm. "Don't be scared, Milly. Mommy's coming."

I stepped off the ledge of the seventeenth floor.

George was still half asleep when his phone rang.

He looked at the number and said, without bothering to fully wake up, "Grace, I told you. I'm not signing anything."

"Mr. Smith, I'm calling from the hospital. Your wife jumped from a building tonight. She was holding your daughter's urn when she fell. We need you to come in and sign the cremation consent form."

The fog cleared instantly. He sat up. Before he could speak, there was urgent knocking at the door.

His subordinate stumbled in before it was fully open. "Mr. Smith. The Blue Moon Clan staged a car accident tonight. Miss Milly didn't survive."

A beat.

"Mrs. Smith has also jumped from a building. She was holding the urn."

George's vision went dark. He hit the floor.