Chapter 4

Daisy POV

Numbly, I clicked the link Chloe sent.

The headline was plastered in bold red text: [Postpartum Depressed Mother Gets Drunk and Forces Liquor Down Newborn's Throat—Baby Dies of Alcohol Poisoning!]

The poster claimed I was a chronic alcoholic who had lost my mind after giving birth, deliberately pouring whiskey down my daughter's throat.

Every single word was a disgusting lie. Yet my photos, my real name, and my phone number were all laid bare for the internet to see.

The comment section was a bubbling cesspool of hate:

[How does a monster like this get to be a mother? Go die.]

[That poor baby, being born to a psycho.]

[Lock her up and throw away the key.]

My phone began ringing off the hook with unknown numbers.

I swiped to answer one, and a stranger screamed into the receiver, "You murderer! Why don't you just kill yourself?!"

I hung up. It rang again. Hang up, ring again.

Vicious text messages flooded my inbox like a swarm of locusts:

[I hope your womb rots and you never have another kid.]

[Aren't you scared your baby's ghost will drag you to hell tonight?]

[Die, die, die.]

The strength completely drained from my body, cold sweat soaking my back.

People walked past me in the hospital corridor, a few stopping to point and whisper.

"Is that her? The one online who fed her kid alcohol..."

"My God, she looks totally normal. How could someone do that?"

"Terrifying."

The monstrous lies crushed down on me like an iron mountain. But I didn't defend myself. I just held the cooling body of my daughter tighter.

Eventually, I handed her body over to the nurses and walked up to the hospital roof alone.

The wind was violent, whipping against my face as I stood at the edge, looking down.

If I jump, I thought, I won't have to face my baby's corpse anymore.

If I jump, I won't have to hear those cruel voices tearing me apart.

I took a step forward. But as the freezing wind poured down my collar, my daughter's tiny face flashed in my mind.

Her gummy, toothless smile, beaming up at me with pure love.

A violent shiver racked my frame. If I jumped, who would avenge her?

The monsters who killed her would walk free, living their pathetic lives without paying a single dime of their debt.

I sank to my knees on the rooftop, weeping silently into the bitter cold.

A while later, I walked downstairs and caught a cab back home.

I needed to retrieve the hidden camera first. I needed that footage as hard evidence.

But when I reached the lobby of our building, Ethan's mistress was already standing there.

Evelyn was dressed in a pristine white dress, her long hair draped over her shoulders, waiting for me.

"Daisy, I saw what happened online," Evelyn said with a delicate, rehearsed smile. "Don't beat yourself up too much. People on the internet forget things in a few days."

I stopped dead in my tracks. "What are you trying to say?"

"Your reputation right now is a complete disaster for Ethan's career. If you truly love him, shouldn't you do the right thing and just leave?"

Looking at her innocent, angelic act, I almost laughed out loud.

"Evelyn, in what capacity are you telling me to leave? As his girlfriend? Or as his cheap side-chick?"

Evelyn's smile faltered for a second, and she dropped the sweet facade.

"When you were pregnant, you did nothing but cry and throw tantrums. He was miserable living with you, which is why he came to me. You pushed him away yourself."

"Did he happen to mention that his entire paycheck gets direct-deposited into my account every single month? Did he tell you the house is exclusively under my name? Do you know why he hasn't dared to bring up divorce once?"

Evelyn's lips twitched.

"Because he can't afford to leave me. If we divorce, he walks away with nothing. Are you willing to support a broke man?" I stared her down.

Her eyes reddened, the venom in her gaze impossible to hide.

I stepped closer. "You don't love him. You love the title of 'Professor Ethan.' If he were just some regular lab tech, would you have ever spread your legs for him?"

"Shut your mouth!" Evelyn shrieked, losing all composure. "You bitter bitch, you deserved to have your baby die!"

My hands balled into tight fists, a blinding rage searing through my veins.

I raised my arm and slapped her across the face with everything I had. Her head snapped to the side.

"Bring up my daughter again, and I swear to God I will end you."

Evelyn clutched her cheek, tears spilling instantly.

Right then, Ethan's car pulled into the driveway. Seeing the scene, he bolted over. "Daisy! Why the hell are you hitting people?!"

He glared at me, noticing the harsh red handprint on Evelyn's face.

"I know you're hurting right now, but who does making a scene help? Can you think about my reputation for once in your life?!"

I scoffed. "She thinks she has the right to walk up and provoke me?"

Ethan glanced at Evelyn, whose eyes were brimming with delicate tears.

"I was just worried about Ethan's job... I didn't mean anything else..." she whimpered.

Ethan waved it off, annoyed. "Evelyn is just a colleague. She came out of genuine concern. You had no right to lay hands on her. You've been completely unstable lately, Daisy. You need to see a psychiatrist."

I parted my lips, but the air felt trapped in my throat.

"Fine. Let's go inside and talk," Ethan said, reaching out to grab my wrist.

I took a sharp step back, dodging his touch.

His hand hung awkwardly in midair, his expression darkening completely.

He scowled. "How long are you going to keep throwing these childish tantrums?"

I looked at him, my gaze heavy with fifteen years of crushed illusions.

"Ethan, I'm done. I want a divorce."