Her fifth daughter died, so she deleted his bloodline. novel Chapter 74

Chapter 5

The shock sent Mom spiraling back into depression, leaving her in no state for police

questioning. They sent her home pending further investigation.

Sam burst through the door that afternoon, home from school and racing straight to

my room. “Lily! I got you something cool!”

He pushed the door open and froze. Everything looked just like it had this morning-

untouched, empty. I hadn’t come back.

The realization hit him all at once. He bolted for the living room. “Dad! Mom! Where’s

Lily? She’s not back yet!”

They were both sitting there, looking like they’d aged ten years overnight. “What’s wrong? What happened to Lily?”

“Lily jumped last night.” Dad’s voice cracked, barely recognizable. “She’s dead.

Sam let out a weird, strangled laugh. “You’re kidding, right? It was just her birthday yesterday. She just turned six.”

Dad’s eyes were bloodshot, threaded with red. He dropped his gaze and went silent.

“That’s impossible. We have the camera in the living room-you’re lying! I’m gonna

check the footage!”

He grabbed Dad’s phone and pulled up the video feed. Mom’s voice filled the room, sharp and vicious.

“You almost killed me giving birth to you! And you think you deserve cake?

“You act like you’ve never seen food before! Can’t even wait five minutes without making a scene!”

“We never should have had you. The three of us were fine without you!”

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They stood there listening to themselves from the night before. The color drained from

their faces.

The slam of the door echoed through the speakers. On the screen, I stood alone in the

empty room, crying. The next second, I was already moving.

I ran for the balcony and climbed over the railing like I’d made up my mind a long time

ago.

Sam screamed and hurled the phone across the room.

Mom’s eyes had been dry for hours, empty of everything. She shot up from the bed,

those same hollow eyes fixed on something.

She made for the balcony with that same desperate energy she’d had after I was born,

when she’d tried to kill herself over and over.

Dad caught her and slammed her down onto the floor. No gentleness this time, no soft

words. His voice came out jagged and raw.

“Lily’s dead! You killed her! We all did!”

“It won’t bring her back if you die too! She wouldn’t want this! Just let her rest-

haven’t you done enough?”

The air in the apartment felt poisonous. Mom had been doing better, finally starting to heal, and now she was right back where she’d started.

Dad used to be so patient, even when he was exhausted from work. Sam used to check my bruises and try to make me laugh when I was hurting.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. I’d left so they could be happy again, just the three of them without me dragging them down. How had everything gotten so much

worse?

The doorbell cut through the tension. Police.

Detective Gordon tossed a stack of autopsy photos onto the table. “The victim has

bruises all over her body. Want to explain that?”

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No one said anything. Mom was still on the floor, curled in on herself. When she finally spoke, her voice was shredded.

“I hit her. I was just… I was trying to discipline her…”

Her voice broke. She couldn’t finish the lie, couldn’t keep pretending.

She knew the truth-every cruel word, every blow came from a dark and broken place

inside her. She hated what giving birth to me had done to her, to her body.

Hated how it had stolen the career she’d worked so hard for, the future she’d dreamed

about. Every bad thing that happened after became my fault in her mind.

She felt like a burden to the family and took it out on me, though she knew Dad and Sam

loved her.

They’d been walking on eggshells around her for years, but the depression and everything else had made her hypersensitive.

She picked up on everything-Sam’s quiet complaints, Dad coming home later and later, the way I’d started flinching around her. It all ate at her constantly.

The guilt, the pain, the sleepless nights wondering who she’d become-she channeled

all of it into hurting me.

Her confession laid it all bare-years of hidden abuse.

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