Chapter 3

I stopped.

I followed Ethan back to the dining room and sat down at the table.

Lily was still quietly crying.

I looked at her, softening my voice to play along one last time.

"Lily, stop crying."

"It has nothing to do with you. I'm not mad. Happy birthday."

Only then did she stop sobbing.

She looked at me with watery, innocent eyes. "Really?"

"Sera, I really want your homemade lasagna. The maids' cooking just doesn't taste like yours."

I nodded, just wanting to get this over with.

"Sure. I'll make it for you after lunch."

A bright smile instantly broke across Lily's face.

The moment she smiled, the heavy tension at the table vanished. My parents and Ethan immediately started chatting happily about her birthday party plans.

Lily listened, her eyes curving with joy, but she barely touched her food, just playing with her fork.

Ethan quickly noticed. He chin-gestured toward me.

"Are you done eating?"

"Lily has no appetite. If you're full, go start on the lasagna."

I looked at my plate, which I had barely touched, and said flatly, "No."

"Even a paid maid gets to finish her lunch before she goes to work."

Ethan choked on his words.

But my mom couldn't sit still. Regardless of whether I was full, she snatched my plate away and dragged me toward the kitchen.

"How can you even think about eating right now?"

"Your sister is starving. Go prep the food first. You can finish eating when you're done."

Lily made a half-hearted attempt to object. "Mom, don't..."

But my dad stopped her.

"Just let your mother handle it."

"Sera was supposed to cook today anyway. If we keep spoiling her, her attitude is going to get out of hand!"

So, Lily let the matter drop and went back to laughing and talking with my parents and Ethan.

Standing in the hot, smoky kitchen, listening to the bursts of laughter coming from the dining room, I suddenly missed the simple food my foster mother, Margaret, used to make.

It was always just simple buttered noodles, but whenever she made it, she would secretly hide a perfectly fried egg at the bottom of the bowl just for me.

It was always so warm.

The kitchen timer buzzed, snapping me back to reality.

I added a pinch of salt to the sauce and pulled out my phone to send Ethan a Snapchat message:

[The divorce papers are on the counter. Sign them now.]

[Once the lasagna is done, I’m leaving.]

Ethan glanced at his phone. The warm smile on his face instantly hardened.

He didn't reply.

He just turned back to Lily and said something, making her laugh even louder.

"Beep, beep, beep."

The lasagna was ready.

I put on the oven mitts and prepared to carry the hot dish to the dining room.

Suddenly, Lily ran into the kitchen, looking eager.

"Sera, you worked so hard making this."

"Let me help with this part. Give it to me, I'll carry it to the table."

I frowned instinctively and turned my body to shield the hot dish.

Over the past eight years, whenever she got too close to me, trouble always followed.

"No need. It's boiling hot, and you don't have mitts on. I'll do it."

Lily stepped closer, insisting, "Oh, come on, Sera! Don't be like that. I'm not afraid of the heat. Give it to me!"

Seeing me back away even further, Lily finally dropped her sweet act.

Her face contorted with anger, and she screamed toward the doorway behind me:

"I said, give it to me!"

"Crash!"

The heavy ceramic dish shattered on the tile floor. The boiling hot sauce and cheese splashed all over my bare calves.

The pain was so intense that my face went completely white.

I could barely stand, let alone scream.

But before I could even process the pain, Lily had already thrown herself onto the shattered ceramic pieces.

She wailed hysterically, "Sera, why did you burn me?!"