Chapter 3
A crushing wave of terror swallowed me whole.
Sophie’s pale, porcelain skin was drenched in blood, her tiny body blown apart.
With the last shred of breath in her, she looked into the camera-offering me a smile that was
both agonizing and brave.
I collapsed over my phone, whispering I’m sorry again and again.
“Baby… Mommy’s useless…”
I had been blind-blind to the man I loved, blind to the fact that I’d failed to give her a father
who would protect her.
Something inside me snapped, breaking beyond repair.
I thought I would scream, sob, tear the world apart when I held her ashes.
But I didn’t.
I drifted through the streets like a ghost, numb and hollow.
When I reached my doorstep, a swarm of reporters with cameras and mics blocked my way.
Confused, I turned to Ryan.
“As the victim’s family, shouldn’t you thank Hailey in person?” one of them called out.
“If it weren’t for her, Sophie would have been blown to bits.”
Under the assault of flashing bulbs, I gave them a smile-wild, broken, almost deranged.
It wasn’t until Ryan yanked me into the camera’s frame that I found my voice.
“Sophie’s already dead,” I said evenly. “No one saved her.”
His face instantly darkened with displeasure.
“Natalie, what the hell are you talking about?”
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“You’d slander Hailey just to ruin her reputation? What kind of mother says her own daughter’s
dead?”
Then, in a single vicious motion, he swatted the urn from my arms.
A loud ringing filled my ears.
I dropped to my knees, cupping my hands to gather the ashes now mixed with dirt.
She’d always hated being dirty.
Above me, I heard Ryan’s voice, loud and clear, thanking Hailey-and her shrill, triumphant
laughter.
“If it weren’t for Ms. Hailey, Sophie would never have been rescued,” he declared for the
cameras.
“I hope she continues to grow in this field. I’ll personally mentor her until she can take my
place as a bomb expert.”
Sophie was dead.
And her father was grinning, thanking her killer.
Absurd didn’t even begin to cover it.
The applause swelled, marking the end of the interview.
Ryan’s cold gaze swept over me, his mouth twisting into a mocking smirk.
“Keep playing crazy if you want. Sophie needs a mother who’s brave and obedient like Hailey, not you.”
The footage of me kneeling, gathering ashes, was edited into a clip of me “kneeling in gratitude.”
Hailey, who hadn’t even earned her professional license yet, was suddenly hailed overnight as a “genius bomb disposal expert” and a “national heroine.”
Online, the PR machine was in overdrive for the “Red-Blue Duo” of Ryan and Hailey.
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[Ryan said he’d never take a female apprentice-guess Hailey’s the exception! This CP is so sweet!]
[Ryan’s wife doesn’t look grateful at all. Hailey saved her kid and she’s still sulking?]
[She’s even accusing Hailey of shortening the timer. What a jealous woman-stay away from our expert!]
Ryan basked in it all, never denying a single rumor.
I sent one short reply to the trending feed: [Best wishes to the happy couple.]
He slapped my phone out of my hand, his voice like ice.
“You think that’s funny? You don’t care about our daughter-you just use her to compete for
my attention.”
“There’s about an hour left. If you don’t want to help save her, then keep throwing your
tantrum.”
With that, he grabbed Hailey’s hand and turned to leave.
Only for his assistant to burst through the door, breathless.
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