"Is it for your art therapy? Or are you designing something for someone I should know about?"
I had just finished sketching a small cottage by the sea, the property I'd secretly purchased last month.
"Just doodling," I replied without emotion.
My indifference only seemed to fuel his irritation.
Without warning, he lunged across the car and tore the journal from my hands.
"Let me see what's so fascinating worth ignoring your husband for," he demanded.
Nine years of marriage.
A passion I'd pursued since childhood yet he couldn't recognize a single one of my recurring motifs before the pages began tearing in his rough grip.
Victoria watched with delight as Alexander demolished another piece of my identity.
The remainder of the journey passed in heavy silence.
When we arrived at the mansion, Alexander immediately rushed to Victoria's side as she whimpered about feeling dizzy from the car ride.
He carried her up the grand staircase to our bedroom, barking orders at the staff to prepare her favorite ginger tea and dim the lights.
After settling Victoria, Alexander returned to the foyer where the housekeeper was informing me that my things had been moved to the basement.
He paused, watching me gather my few remaining possessions. After a moment's hesitation, he turned to the chef.
"Make sure Lauren gets something to eat tonight." Then he added coldly, "But serve it in the kitchen. Victoria doesn't want her at the dining table."
I said nothing, simply nodding as I made my way down the narrow stairs to the basement. When I opened my luggage, I discovered my clothes soaked in dark red liquid that smelled of blood.
Someone had spray-painted BARREN WASTE across my wedding photo.
The walls of my room were similarly painted with cruel messages: "DEFECTIVE WOMAN" and "CHILDLESS FAILURE."
But worst of all was the fur scattered across my belongings. I recognized it immediately—it belonged to Cassie, the aging Persian cat my brother had entrusted to me before his death.
My heart raced as I searched for the small urn containing my brother's ashes. To my relief, it remained untouched in its velvet bag.
Just as I clutched the urn to my chest, Victoria appeared at the basement door, holding something in a blood-stained pillowcase.
"Looking for this?" she asked sweetly, dumping the contents onto the floor.
Cassie's lifeless body slid out, her once-beautiful coat with dried blood.