After rummaging through the garbage for nearly three hours, I finally found the urn.
My hands trembled as I thanked the driver, clutching the urn tightly against my chest— terrified to let go ever again.
The relief of recovering what I’d lost steadied my trembling heart for a moment. But when I opened the box to check inside, it was empty.
I froze, staring in disbelief.
Then I realized—Natalie had tricked me!
A wave of humiliation surged through me, hot and choking.
Unwilling to accept it, I turned back to the office and confronted her. “Where are the ashes from that box?”
Natalie’s eyes reddened as she nestled pitifully in Zayn’s arms. “Zayn, your wife really is quite the actress. She’s so vicious that she can even curse her own sister.”
A sharp pain shot through my chest. “Natalie, you know how much that box means to me—”
“Have you made enough of a scene?” Zayn’s voice was cold, his gaze even colder. “Look at yourself—filthy from head to toe, reeking of garbage. Where do you still look like Mrs. Flynn? Get out. Now.”
I stared at the man I had loved for seven years, the man who now stood protectively beside another woman without hesitation.