In the eight years he had abandoned me, I hadn’t cried when I was starving and digging through trash, or freezing on a park bench, or bullied by Sophia’s lies.
But now, I couldn’t stop.
I sobbed until my voice broke.
I begged him—madly begged him—even if he never loved me for the rest of his life, it would be enough.
But he only gave me one glance. Those eyes, always cold when they looked at me, spelled out each word with cruel precision:
“Anyone who hurts my daughter deserves to die.”
The moment Lucky collapsed, my cries stopped too.
I didn’t know when they left. Somehow, I dragged myself up from the ground and staggered forward to cradle Lucky in my arms.
He lay limp against me. I whispered his name, and he barely opened his eyes. A single tear fell into my palm as he nuzzled me gently, then never moved again.
…
Numb, I carried Lucky for what felt like forever.
Until I collapsed, unable to tell whether the blood covering me was his or mine.
When I woke again, it was to Ms. Wilson’s frantic voice.
“Emily, thank God you’re awake! You’re so sick, why didn’t you stay in the hospital for treatment?”
I lowered my eyes, expression empty. “I had no money.”