My daughter wailed in my arms. I held her close, shielding her from the woman who gave her life but wished her death. Without looking back, I stepped off the ledge.
Six years later.
A little girl with eyes that mirrored Joanna Fox's took center stage, claiming first place in the national ballet competition.
Joanna, seated at the judges' table, nearly lost her composure. The resemblance was undeniable. Subconsciously, she called out to the child.
"Auntie, you're mistaken," the girl said, her voice crisp over the microphone. "I have a mommy."
——
Joanna's face drained of color. She scrambled through the contestant files, hands shaking, until her eyes locked on a specific page.
"Your name is Lucy Farley? Is your father Asher Farley?"
Lucy clutched her bouquet and offered an innocent, sugary smile. "Yes."
Joanna abandoned all propriety. She scrambled down from the platform, her voice rising to a shriek.
"Asher Farley is my husband! I didn't expect that bastard to still be alive!"
Lucy tilted her head, her expression shifting to exaggerated pity.
"Auntie, are you... experiencing a neurological episode?"