The door opened, and what came into view was a floor covered in blood.
My mother was lying on the ground, barely breathing.
I hurriedly crouched down and held her body, feeling her life gradually slipping away in my arms.
A sense of despair spread around me, and I cried out in pain, "Mom, why did you do this?"
My mom had a cheerful personality. Over the years, many people had openly or secretly mocked her, saying that I had an unknown background and that she was the mistress of some wealthy man. But she had never been discouraged and always comforted me with a smile.
My mom touched my cheek. Blood dripped from her arm onto my snow-white nightgown, leaving behind crimson stains.
My mom whispered in my ear, "Rhianna Fann."
Afterward, she used her last bit of strength to hand me a ring and then closed her eyes forever; no matter how much I shouted; it was in vain.
No one believed that my mother was forced to jump off the building. They all took Rhianna's money and, relentlessly and without mercy, continued to slander my mother as a mistress, tarnishing her reputation even in death.