My entire family forced me to divorce because the girl they raised as their own fell in love with my husband. Six years later, I ran into my brother and ex-husband at the park. My ex-husband was holding my seven-year-old daughter, and he asked me: “Now that you’re back in the country, why didn’t you reach out?” I looked at him, cold as ice: “Want to buy a painting? Twenty dollars a piece.” My brother Blake came over and kicked my easel, sending it flying: “Stop acting innocent! Felicia already forgave you for causing her miscarriage. Now she’s been outed as a homewrecker, and it’ll mess with her chances for the award. Come back with us and clear her name, and I’ll let you come home.” I sneered: “Home? That stopped being my home a long time ago.” My ex-husband, Ryan, pointed to the daughter in his arms and said: “Are you really going to abandon your own daughter?” Before I could answer, Lily spoke up, her voice dripping with disgust: “I don’t want this mommy! Her hands are so creepy!” Ryan’s gaze lingered on my scarred wrists. He took a step closer, as if to reach out and touch me. “Enough, Aria, stop with the drama. You used to adore kids.” A bitter taste filled my mouth. Lily didn’t even recognize me anymore. My brother, Blake, frowned, kicking over my change box. His voice was laced with impatience. “Why are you even talking to her? Just drag her away.” “If we weren’t worried about the PR nightmare affecting Felicia’s award chances, who’d want to come to this dump?” Blake’s arrogance, the kind only old money breeds, was seeping from him. I bent down to pick up the change box that had rolled into the mud, my voice calm and steady. “I’m not going back.” At that, Blake exploded like a lit fuse, and it tore through me. “Aria, don’t you dare push your luck. Are you shacked up with some guy here? Can’t bear to leave him?” Hearing that, Ryan’s previously mild expression darkened instantly. He seemed to agree with Blake. He grabbed my wrist with one hand and started dragging me out of the park. A sharp, throbbing pain shot through my wrist. The change box clattered to the ground, ten and fifty-dollar bills scattering across the dirt. “Ryan, let go of me! I’m not going back with you!” He ignored me completely. Blake strode forward, stepping on the bills on the ground, grinding them into the mud. “Meow!” An orange blur darted out from the bushes. It lashed out with sharp claws, scratching Ryan’s arm. Seizing the chance, I managed to break free. But as I turned, Blake kicked me in the knee. With a soft thump, I fell to my knees. Here I was, knocked down by Blake. There, the little cat was sent flying several feet away. I scrambled to get up, large tears splashing onto the ground. “Little One!” I took one step, but Ryan and Blake caught me together. They dragged me forward. My struggles were useless. My stray cat lay in a pool of blood. The money I’d saved for a burial plot lay in the mud. Just like I had six years ago.
I was hauled into that familiar SUV, my daughter Lily strapped into her car seat. The moment they tossed me into the back seat, she started wailing. “Daddy, I don’t want to sit with this ugly stranger! She smells awful!” Ryan glanced at me in the rearview mirror, then put on a show of sternly scolding Lily. “Lily, that’s not polite. This is your mommy.” Lily scrunched up her nose and sniffed. She mumbled under her breath: “She’s not my mommy. Only Aunt Felicia deserves to be my mommy.” Her voice wasn’t loud, but it reached everyone in the car. Blake snorted at me with disdain. Ryan’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. He offered an explanation. “Lily’s just not used to you, but she’ll get used to it.” I turned my head to stare out the window, my voice flat. “It’s fine. I was never her mother, wasn’t that what you said yourself?” Six years ago, in this very car. When Lily was barely a year old, Ryan himself had said to me: “Aria, do you think you’re fit to be a mother in your current state?” “Lily is just a child, what does she understand? If she wants to call Felicia ‘mommy,’ let her. Do you really need to cause a scene in front of her?” Ryan’s furious expression flashed in my mind. We drove back to the house in silence. The home I had once meticulously decorated was now unrecognizable. The rose bushes I’d planted in the garden were gone, replaced by endless roses. The swing under the tree was gone, and even the tree itself had been cut down. Everything had changed beyond recognition. My gaze swept over everything with cold indifference before I lowered my eyes. I followed them inside. Ryan opened the door to a room tucked away in a corner. It was covered in dust, with cobwebs in the corners. He coughed, covering his nose, and waved away the dust in front of him. “Your old room was turned into Felicia’s music room. You’ll have to make do here for a while.” “Once things settle down…” I cut him off before he could finish. “No need. This is fine.” My final resting place would soon be a handful of ashes. The quality of the room made no difference to me. Blake couldn’t stand my indifferent attitude, as if we were all bullies. He rolled his eyes at me and scoffed. “Ryan, if she wants to stay here, let her. All these years, she still hasn’t gotten rid of that overly dramatic habit.” Ryan sighed, but didn’t contradict him. “Stay wherever you want.” I hummed in response and closed the door. I couldn’t read the expression in Ryan’s eyes. Wasn’t he the one who drove me out of the country all those years ago? What was with this look of guilt now? I couldn’t figure it out, so I stopped trying. My body went limp as I collapsed onto the narrow twin bed. Excruciating pain ripped through me. My face went pale, and cold sweat soaked the pillow. “Knock, knock.” A knock on the door woke me. I forced myself up and opened it. Blake stood there. He held a thin blanket in his hand. “Who are you trying to play pitiful for, looking like a ghost?” He blurted out, seeing my ashen face. Then he tossed the blanket at my feet. “Here, so you don’t get sick and blame Felicia again.” “And let me warn you, no funny business. Don’t go bothering Felicia. You know why we brought you back.” Familiar words fell on my ears. I’d heard these threats countless times. From initial resistance to eventual numbness, I already knew how to respond. “Got it.” With a “bang,” I shut the door. Turning, I lay back on the bed, the blanket still lying on the floor. A dying person wouldn’t fear sickness. 3. I was woken by a banging on the door in the morning. “Ms. Aria, are you up yet? Still think you’re some high society lady?” The hard wooden bed and unfamiliar room meant I hadn’t slept well. “I’m up.” Opening the door, I saw Mrs. Davis’s familiar face. Her face still held an expression of disgust, her tone icy. “If you’re up, go eat. You really think you’re a young lady, making everyone wait for you.” Six years had passed, and she still didn’t like me. Mrs. Davis had looked after Felicia since she was little. Having no children of her own, she treated the two children of the Williams family as her own. When I was first found and brought back, she had thrown dishwater on me in front of everyone. She believed I should have just died out there when I got lost. Why did I have to come back and snatch Felicia’s place? I couldn’t be bothered to argue with her. The pain from my cancer surged through my entire body. Every breath felt like a knife slicing through me. Walking into the dining room, Felicia sat between Ryan and Lily. Her face flushed red as she ate the sandwich Ryan fed her. “Ryan.” Seeing me, her eyes darted nervously. “Aria, you’re back.” “Are you blaming me? I had no choice but to marry Ryan back then.” “If…” “Screech!” The sound of a chair scraping across the floor grated on everyone’s ears. “No. Didn’t you say you two were true love? Why would I blame you?” As soon as the words left my mouth, Felicia’s eyes welled up. Ryan slammed his knife and fork onto the table, his face clouding over. “Aria, if you don’t want to eat, then don’t.” I curved my lips into a mocking smile. I sat down, my face cold, ignoring the others. The moment I bit into a sandwich, the overly sweet taste of tomato sauce made my stomach churn. I abruptly pushed my chair back and ran to the bathroom, dry-heaving. “Aria, are you… pregnant?” Felicia’s questioning voice came from behind me. I let the icy water splash on my face, sending shivers through me. She was still so good at twisting the truth. Jealous of my talent, she’d severed my tendons. Afraid of her position being affected, she accused me of being pregnant. Her methods were clumsy, but someone always believed her. Sure enough, hearing her words, Ryan frowned, a hint of disgust in his eyes. “Aria, a woman should still have some self-respect.” I laughed bitterly inside. Did “self-respect” even apply to me anymore? When they threw me into that club, letting me be humiliated, why didn’t they talk about self-respect then? “It’s none of your business.” Ryan scoffed angrily, then walked away after a final word. “Whatever.” Returning to the dining table, I sat back in my seat. “Aria, since you’re back, why don’t you perform with me at my concert in a few days?” “We used to be called the Twin Violin Stars.” Felicia looked at me with an expectant face. My expression froze, and my gaze became somber as I stared at my hands, perpetually wrapped in bandages. These hands would never hold a violin again. Before I could hide the sadness in my eyes, Lily’s clear voice rang out. “Aunt Felicia, that ugly lady isn’t good enough to play music with you. I saw her last time, her hands are so, so ugly.” The innocent child’s voice pierced my heart like a needle.
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