Chapter 3
The ER waiting room smelled like antiseptic and fear.
Lily was asleep on my lap, her bandaged hand propped up on a pillow, her face still puffy from crying.
The doctor had just left.
Second-degree burns across three knuckles, he’d said.
No permanent damage to the tendons, thank God.
But she’d have faint scars for the rest of her life.
A reminder.
I traced the edge of the bandage with my finger, careful not to press too hard.
The door burst open.
Michael stood in the doorway, his shirt wrinkled, his hair a mess.
He scanned the room, his eyes locking on us.
“Lily!” he said, rushing over.
He reached for her, and Lily’s eyes flew open.
She screamed, scrambling off my lap and hiding behind the chair, her good hand fisting my pants leg.
“NO! Mommy, make him go away! Please!”
Michael froze mid-step.
His face crumpled.
“Baby, it’s Daddy,” he said, his voice soft, pleading. “I would never hurt you. I love you.”
Lily just shook her head, pressing her face into my leg.
I stood, putting myself between them.
“Get out,” I said.
“I just want to talk,” he said, holding his hands up like he was surrendering.
“Please. My mom… she’s not well. She has early dementia. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. She’s been confused for months.”
I stared at him.
I thought of the way Margaret had sneered at Lily, her words sharp and clear.
Useless little brat.
Burden.
That wasn’t dementia.
That was hate.
I pulled out my phone, tapped the screen, and hit play.
Margaret’s voice filled the small waiting room, loud and clear.
“Useless little brat. You spilled my tea. You’re just as much of a burden as your mother.”
Then Lily’s sobs.
Then my voice, shaky but fierce.
“Mommy’s here. You’re safe now.”
I hit stop.
Michael’s face went red.
“Where did you get that?” he whispered.
“I recorded it the second I heard her scream,” I said.
“That’s not dementia, Michael. That’s your mother. And you stood there and called my daughter a burden right along with her.”
Mr. Chen walked in right then, holding another thick envelope.
He handed it to Michael.
“These are divorce papers,” he said, his voice flat.
“Mrs. Hale is filing for dissolution of marriage, effective immediately. She is seeking full legal and physical custody of Lily, with no unsupervised visitation for you. She is also requesting that you be ordered to pay child support, and that all assets acquired during the marriage remain in her name, as they were purchased with her separate funds.”
Michael stared at the envelope like it was on fire.
“You can’t do this,” he said, his voice rising.
“I’m her father! I have rights! You can’t keep me from my own daughter!”
“Watch me,” I said.
I turned and knelt down, holding my arms out to Lily.
She crawled into them, burying her face in my chest.
“Let’s go, baby,” I said.
I stood, carrying her past Michael without a second glance.
He yelled after me, his voice cracking.
“You’ll regret this! I’ll take her from you! I’ll tell the court you’re an unfit mother, working all the time, too busy with your stupid company to care about her!”
I stopped at the door.
I turned back, looking him dead in the eye.
“Try it,” I said.
“I have the best lawyers in the state. I have the recording. I have the medical records. I have neighbors who’ve heard Lily screaming for months. What do you have? A mother in jail for child abuse. A history of choosing her over your own daughter. And no money to pay for a lawyer good enough to beat me.”
His mouth fell open.
I walked out.
My driver was waiting by the curb, holding the door open to my black SUV.
I climbed in, settling Lily on the leather seat next to me.
“Where to, ma’am?” the driver asked.
“The downtown penthouse,” I said.
The one my dad had left me, on the sixtieth floor, with floor-to-ceiling windows and a security system so tight not even a fly could get in without permission.
I’d never stayed there before.
I’d thought this house in the suburbs was our home.
I’d been wrong.
Home wasn’t a place.
It was Lily, safe in my arms.
Lily stared out the window as we drove, her eyes wide as we pulled up to the glass skyscraper.
“Wow,” she whispered, as the elevator carried us up.
When the doors opened, she gasped.
The penthouse was huge, all white marble and soft carpets, with a view of the whole city spread out below us.
“Is this ours?” she asked, her voice small.
I knelt down, smiling at her.
“It’s ours, baby. For as long as we want it.”
She ran across the room, throwing herself onto the big white couch, giggling for the first time all day.
“It’s like a castle!” she said.
I sat down next to her, pulling her into my lap.
“Exactly,” I said.
“And you’re the princess. No one is ever going to hurt you in your castle. I promise.”
She snuggled into me, her eyes already getting heavy.
“Love you, Mommy,” she mumbled.
“Love you too, baby,” I said.
I held her, watching the sun set over the city, painting the sky pink and orange.
Tomorrow would be hard.
There would be court dates, and lawyers, and Michael screaming about his rights.
But tonight?
May you like
Tonight, Lily was safe.
Tonight, we were home.
