Tomorrow? I thought bitterly. Clinton, you have no idea. In the past life, after this festival, your daughter was drained of her bone marrow for a transplant. Emerald faked a surgical accident, making everyone believe she died from an allergic reaction. And where were you? Off celebrating Emerald's son's birthday while your daughter turned to ashes.
Do you think I'll let you teach my baby a lesson? Dream on.
Clinton held up a bag of mooncakes and dumped them out in front of me. Some were burnt, others were sticky and gooey. He pointed at the pile with disdain.
"Emerald is just too kind-hearted," he said. "Even after all this, she wanted to send you both a gift."
I broke open a five-nut mooncake. It was filled with walnut and melon seed shells. Disgusted, I crushed the mooncake in my hand.
"Move aside," I said coldly, "I'm going to find Tamara."
Clinton's eyes blazed with anger. "She's just faking it. I specifically told Emerald to teach her a lesson—"
*Slap!*
My hand flew across his face, leaving him momentarily stunned.
"Let's get a divorce," I said, my voice firm. "My daughter has nothing more to do with you."