My husband brought his mistress home for the night. Finding our son an inconvenience, he locked him inside an airtight closet. Twelve hours later, the child’s fingernails were torn, bones exposed, and he died alone in the dark. When I called his father to come back and identify the body, he laughed on the phone and said, “You’ll really make up any lie, won’t you?” I was on a business trip overseas when I got a call from Amanda, 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. Carter, Ethan’s parents, who had rushed back from out of town, saw the scene. They were furious, demanding to know from Amanda what had happened. Amanda, seeing my pale face, quickly stepped forward to support me, then began to explain to Mr. and Mrs. Carter. “Mr. Carter brought Ms. Miller home to stay. Little Liam accidentally snagged her stockings while playing with his toy plane, so Mr. Carter locked Liam 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 Amanda, Liam had been locked inside for at least a dozen hours. “That animal! Chloe, 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, Ethan’s impatient voice answered. “Why are you calling? Are you looking for another fight?” My voice was hollow. “Our son… he’s dead.” Ethan on the other end scoffed. “You’ll really say any lie to stop me from being with Madison, won’t you?” Before I could speak, I heard Madison Miller’s voice in the background. “Ethan, did you book the hotel?” I heard Ethan’s doting voice. “All set. This time, no one unimportant will ruin our trip.” Madison 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.” Madison’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. Carter’s 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!” Ethan’s voice was cold, filled with impatience. “So he was locked up for a bit. What’s the big deal? If Chloe hadn’t corrupted our son, making him intentionally target Madison, 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. Carter’s face turned crimson with anger. He roared, “You get back here right now!” But from the other end, I heard Madison’s tearful voice. “Ethan, is it your family causing trouble again?” Ethan sighed impatiently. “Dad, Mom, please stop this nonsense. Madison and I will be back after our trip.” The call disconnected. I felt completely hollowed out, staring despairingly at Mr. and Mrs. Carter. “Liam 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. Amanda, who had been summoned, was in tears. “Mr. Carter 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 Liam, so after Mr. Carter 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 Liam 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. Carter, seeing my state, couldn’t bear it and pulled me into her embrace. Finally, Mr. Carter spoke. “Chloe, it’s our fault. Our family failed to raise Ethan 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, Ethan and I were practically childhood sweethearts. Mr. and Mrs. Carter stepped in, helping me secure my parents’ legacy. The day Mr. and Mrs. Carter brought me home, Ethan 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 Madison 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 Madison.” 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 Ethan’s life, hoping that one day he would change his mind. But this time, for Madison Miller, he actually laid hands on his own child. Mr. Carter 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 Liam’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. Carter. “Thank you for your help all those years ago. I’m taking Liam and leaving this place. I won’t be coming back. Please take good care of yourselves.”
Back home, Ethan’s call came in. “Chloe Hayes, how long are you going to keep up this act? Tell Dad to unblock my cards!” Ethan heard my silence and roared impatiently. “Have you had enough yet?! If you keep this up, we’re getting a divorce. Madison already has my child anyway. You can just take that dead weight of yours and get out of the Carter 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 Madison and me.” He hung up, the phone beeping. At the same time, Mr. Bennett, the lawyer Mr. Carter sent, handed me the divorce papers. I signed my name without the slightest hesitation, my mind replaying Liam’s voice. It was Father’s Day. Liam had clumsily made Ethan a handmade card, but Ethan never came home. To this day, I still remember Liam’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 Liam’s small bed, the one he slept in before, and fell asleep. The next day, Liam’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. Carter wiped their tears, looking as if they had aged ten years overnight. They gently caressed the urn. “After you bury Liam, 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 Ethan where Liam is buried.”
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