After the divorce, I left the old city. One night, an unknown number rang. “Hello, who is this?” Hearing my voice, the person on the other end seemed to sob, but quickly responded. “Tomorrow is our son’s death anniversary. I want to see him…” That familiar tone. I knew it was my ex-husband. “You’re mistaken. Our son’s anniversary passed ages ago. Don’t contact me again.” I heard his choked voice through the phone. In the past, my heart would have ached, and I’d have rushed to comfort him. Now, I hung up without hesitation, blocking his number to stop him from bothering me. He had locked our son in a closet just because Leo, while playing with a toy plane, accidentally snagged his assistant’s stockings. And to appease his assistant, he’d sent everyone home, then jetted off with her on a vacation. I was on a business trip overseas when I got a call from Maria, our housekeeper. She told me something had happened to my son and urged me to come home immediately. I booked the nearest flight, rushing frantically to the hospital. All I saw was the red light glowing above the operating room door. Soon, the light went out, and the doctor emerged, his voice heavy with sorrow as he looked at us. “Please accept our deepest condolences. We did everything we could.” I felt utterly frozen, my fingertips numb, a sudden acid reflux rising in my stomach, and my heart felt like it was clutched by a giant hand. I fought to stay conscious, my fingernails digging deep into my palms. Mr. and Mrs. Davies, Julian’s parents, who had rushed back from out of town, saw the scene. They were furious, demanding to know from Maria what had happened. Maria, seeing my pale face, quickly stepped forward to support me, then began to explain to Mr. and Mrs. Davies. “Mr. Davies brought Ms. Miller home to stay. Little Leo accidentally snagged her stockings while playing with his toy plane, so Mr. Davies locked Leo in the closet.” My mind went blank with a loud *buzz*, and my legs gave out, sending me to my knees. Our house had a custom-built, solid wood closet. It was heavy and airtight. According to Maria, Leo had been locked inside for at least a dozen hours. “That animal! Scarlett, call him! Tell him to get back here!” I fumbled for my phone, my trembling fingers hitting the wrong buttons several times. When the call connected, Julian’s impatient voice answered. “Why are you calling? Are you looking for another fight?” My voice was hollow. “Our son… he’s dead.” Julian on the other end scoffed. “You’ll really say any lie to stop me from being with Brittany, won’t you?” Before I could speak, I heard Brittany Miller’s voice in the background. “Julian, did you book the hotel?” I heard Julian’s doting voice. “All set. This time, no one unimportant will ruin our trip.” Brittany whined playfully. “Last time, your family kept calling and bothering us. That won’t happen again, right?” “Don’t worry, I’ll block her number soon.” Brittany’s tinkling laugh carried through the phone, her voice syrupy sweet. “My stockings got ruined yesterday. You’ll have to make it up to me today, big time.”
Beside me, Mrs. Davies’ lips trembled with rage. She snatched the phone from my hand. “Do you even know what happened to your son?! You’re still out there with that hussy!” Julian’s voice was cold, filled with impatience. “So he was locked up for a bit. What’s the big deal? If Scarlett hadn’t corrupted our son, making him intentionally target Brittany, why would I have punished him?” “Mom, can you stop being so ridiculous? I married her back just as you wanted. What more do you want?” Mr. Davies’ face turned crimson with anger. He roared, “You get back here right now!” But from the other end, I heard Brittany’s tearful voice. “Julian, is it your family causing trouble again?” Julian sighed impatiently. “Dad, Mom, please stop this nonsense. Brittany and I will be back after our trip.” The call disconnected. I felt completely hollowed out, staring despairingly at Mr. and Mrs. Davies. “Leo is gone. I have nothing left. Let me go.” Just then, the police arrived, having received a call. They took us to the station. Soon, the autopsy results came out. “The deceased’s cause of death was asphyxiation in a confined space. His fingernails were torn off, flesh ripped, and bones exposed. This indicates extreme struggle and attempts to break free before death.” “We’ve taken the house’s housekeeper in for questioning. Now, please tell us what you know.” After ensuring we weren’t deliberately abusing the child, the police’s attitude softened considerably. Maria, who had been summoned, was in tears. “Mr. Davies was the one who locked the child in the closet. And to prevent us from letting the child out, he sent all of us away.” “I was worried about Leo, so after Mr. Davies left, I immediately rushed back to let him out.” “When I opened the closet, there was blood everywhere, and the child’s face was blue.” I couldn’t imagine what Leo had endured in that closet. He must have been so scared and in so much pain. He must have been screaming for his mom to save him in his last moments.
For a moment, the world spun around me, my head buzzing, and my body felt like dead weight, collapsing onto the police station chair. Mrs. Davies, seeing my state, couldn’t bear it and pulled me into her embrace. Finally, Mr. Davies spoke. “Scarlett, it’s our fault. Our family failed to raise Julian properly.” I covered my face with my hands, large tears rolling down my cheeks, and I sobbed, gut-wrenching cries tearing from my throat. Fifteen years ago, my parents died, leaving behind a vast inheritance. My relatives swarmed me, like vultures circling prey. At that time, Julian and I were practically childhood sweethearts. Mr. and Mrs. Davies stepped in, helping me secure my parents’ legacy. The day Mr. and Mrs. Davies brought me home, Julian held my hand, his eyes filled with love and a firm determination to protect me. He had promised then that he would be good to me forever, that he would always protect me. But after our son was born, he grew increasingly distant and busy. Until I saw him, the man who claimed to be in a meeting, with his arm around Brittany Miller, splurging cash at the mall. I screamed, demanding to know why he was doing this to me, but he just shoved me away in disgust, looking down on me with contempt. “Enough. Look at yourself. You don’t hold a candle to Brittany.” In that moment, I suddenly understood that all the love we once shared had vanished like smoke. Yet, a sliver of hope lingered in my heart. I quietly stayed home, caring for our child, managing Julian’s life, hoping that one day he would change his mind. But this time, for Brittany Miller, he actually laid hands on his own child. Mr. Davies lowered his head, his face etched with sorrow, his voice choked. “Our child was killed by him. How could our family produce such an animal?” “Tomorrow, after Leo’s cremation, if you wish to leave, take his ashes with you. Our family has wronged you greatly.” I struggled to my feet, bowing deeply to Mr. and Mrs. Davies. “Thank you for your help all those years ago. I’m taking Leo and leaving this place. I won’t be coming back. Please take good care of yourselves.”
Back home, Julian’s call came in. “Scarlett Hayes, how long are you going to keep up this act? Tell Dad to unblock my cards!” Julian heard my silence and roared impatiently. “Have you had enough yet?! If you keep this up, we’re getting a divorce. Brittany already has my child anyway. You can just take that dead weight of yours and get out of the Davies’ family!” My voice was calm, numb. “The child is dead.” He scoffed dismissively. “Are you going to claim I killed him, too?” “You’ll really say anything to break up Brittany and me.” He hung up, the phone beeping. At the same time, Mr. Henderson, the lawyer Mr. Davies sent, handed me the divorce papers. I signed my name without the slightest hesitation, my mind replaying Leo’s voice. It was Father’s Day. Leo had clumsily made Julian a handmade card, but Julian never came home. To this day, I still remember Leo’s disappointed eyes. “Mommy, does Daddy not like me?” “Why does Daddy never play with me or hug me? All the kids in my class get hugs from their Daddies.” I was physically and mentally exhausted. I curled up on Leo’s small bed, the one he slept in before, and fell asleep. The next day, Leo’s body was sent for cremation. As the incinerator hummed, I felt my own heart being burned into a handful of ashes. The staff handed me a delicate ceramic urn. The child who had just recently called me “Mommy” in his sweet, baby voice was now nothing but a cold urn. Mr. and Mrs. Davies wiped their tears, looking as if they had aged ten years overnight. They gently caressed the urn. “After you bury Leo, could you please tell us the address? He is our grandson, after all.” I nodded, my voice choked with emotion. “I only have one request: don’t tell Julian where Leo is buried.”
I returned home to pack up Leo’s toys and clothes. With each item I packed, my heart was pierced by a sharp needle. Leo’s favorite toy plane still had his messy, childish handwriting on it. His neatly arranged picture books still held his innocent scribbles, with “I love Mommy” written inside. My tears fell onto the floor, my hands trembling uncontrollably, as if I saw my son running towards me. I reached out to embrace him, but only grasped empty air. I finished packing. As I passed by the walk-in closet, I suddenly vomited a mouthful of blood. The opened closet was covered in scratch marks, bloody streaks everywhere. Small, chaotic bloody handprints were slapped all over the closet door. It wasn’t hard to imagine what had happened inside. I walked closer, step by step, gently tracing the marks on the cabinet. Then, I took photos and videos for evidence. I don’t know what state of mind I was in when I did all this. I only snapped back to reality when I stood at the main gate, watching the moving truck pull up. Just then, Julian finally returned. His private jet landed on the tarmac, and as he stepped off, he saw Mr. and Mrs. Davies standing there, their faces grim. Behind him, Brittany Miller’s face lit up with a triumphant smile. She stroked her belly, then linked arms with Julian. Julian frowned, looking at his parents’ somber faces. “Mom, Dad, what are you doing here? Where are Scarlett and Leo?” Mr. Davies snatched a cane from nearby and lashed out at Julian. “You have the nerve to mention Leo!” “How could I have a son as beastly as you?! You killed our child, and you still have the audacity to parade around with your mistress!” Julian instinctively shielded Brittany beside him, complaining, “I just locked him up for a bit. I was about to tell my assistant to let him out. Is it really necessary to react like this?” Mr. Davies clutched his chest, his eyes filled with profound disappointment. “Don’t you know?! I personally saw Leo’s body sent for autopsy! The medical examiner said the child suffered extreme pain and struggled fiercely before he died!” Julian’s face turned ashen. He mumbled in disbelief, “How could this be? I just wanted to punish him a little. Mom, Dad, you must be lying to me, right?!” He saw the sorrow on his parents’ faces, and a wave of unease flooded his heart. Brittany, seeing Julian’s shift in demeanor, immediately looked distressed. She tightened her grip on Julian’s arm. “Julian, honey…” Before she could finish, Julian forcefully shook her off and rushed into the house. There, in the center of the living room, was a black and white photo of Leo… The lawyer, standing nearby, placed the divorce agreement in front of Julian. His hands trembled as he flipped through the papers. The last page of the agreement bore my tear-stained signature.
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