"Just promise me you won't lose your temper, okay? I'm not your real daughter anyway. It makes sense that she doesn't like me."
Mom said nothing. Her hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, her face tight with displeasure.
The car pulled up to the building. Engine off.
She reached for the door handle and pushed it open.
In that instant, both of them froze.
The hallway was packed with people.
Two uniformed officers stood talking to the building manager. Beside them, a reporter hoisted a camera onto his shoulder.
But what seized their attention was the pair of figures in hazmat suits and respirator masks, carrying a stretcher out of my apartment.
Black liquid dripped from the stretcher onto the floor, and the stench rolled over them in waves.
Aileen flinched as if she'd been startled and burrowed into her mother's arms.
"Mom, this is definitely something she staged. She hired people to put on a show to scare you into cutting ties with me."
She clung tight to her mother's waist, the glint of triumph in her eyes impossible to hide.
"She's so selfish. She doesn't even care about how this affects—"
Cold sweat broke across her mother's forehead in an instant.