Just as I was about to place the urn into the grave, Benny rammed into me with force, sending me stumbling backward. My grip loosened and the urn slipped from my hands, shattering into pieces upon impact. In a cruel instant, Little Treasure’s ashes spilled across the cold, unforgiving ground.
"Mom, are you blind? How can you be so careless?" Benny sneered, brushing imaginary dust from his designer suit. "Do you have any idea how much these clothes cost? My father bought them for me and now they're tainted with bad luck! Do you think you can afford to compensate me?" His voice dripped with arrogance and disdain.
I barely had time to process the horror of what had just happened before he pulled a water bottle from his pocket, its inside packed with cigarette butts. He tossed it toward me with an exaggerated smirk.
"Auntie, don’t say I’m heartless. Here, use this to collect your son’s ashes."
My hands trembled with rage as I turned to my mother-in-law, my last shred of hope clinging to the possibility that she might show a sliver of compassion. "Please," I whispered. "Help me get another urn. We need to keep Liam's ashes safe."
But she merely arched a brow, her lips curling in distaste.