My daughter Lyra’s last wish was simple: to see the Sacred Moon Lake.
I begged Kelvin—who I once thought I loved, Alpha of the Silver Fang Pack—to grant her that. Lyra was getting weaker by the day, her bright spirit fading like a candle in a storm. After days of pleading, he finally agreed.
“Fine. Tomorrow night. But don’t expect me to drop everything every time she has a whim!”
It was a reluctant promise, but I clung to it. That night, I stayed with Lyra. Her eyes sparkled as she imagined the lake under the moonlight, her weak body seeming stronger just at the thought.
“I can’t wait, Mom,” she whispered, holding my hand. “Do you think the moonlight will be bright enough to feel?”
I forced a smile, pushing back tears. “Yes, Lyra. I think it will.”
But the night before we were supposed to leave, Kelvin disappeared. He didn’t answer his phone, and there was no sign of him. Slowly, I realized he wasn’t coming.
“Mom?” Lyra’s voice was barely a whisper. She looked at me, her face pale but still hopeful. “Is Dad coming?”
I forced a smile. Hiding my tears. “He’ll join us later, honey. For now, it’s just you and me.”
We never reached the lake. I tried carrying her so she could at least see the moon’s reflection on the water, but her breathing got weaker, and she slipped away under the stars.
I handled the funeral alone, just like I’d done everything else for years. Back at our quiet, empty house, I sat on the floor of her room, surrounded by her things, and let the emptiness sink in.
And then, my phone buzzed with a message from my sister, Patricia that night. She’d sent a picture of her and Kelvin on a mountain trail, with a caption: “Thanks for the best weekend ever, Kelvin. You always know how to make me feel special!”
I stared at the screen, my chest tight. Waiting for the shock to turn into something—anger? Pain? But there was nothing. Just a numb acceptance. Why was I even surprised?
Packing up my things, I worked in silence, my movements steady, even as my heart felt like it was tearing itself apart.
It was almost midnight when I dragged my suitcase downstairs, planning to leave without a word. But there he was, like fate couldn’t let me go that easily.
Kelvin walked in, supporting Patricia, her arm in a sling, her face bruised with faint scratches.
The sight almost made me laugh. He was cradling her hand gently, looking at her with concern. Patricia leaned into him, looking up at me with a smug little smile, clearly loving this.
Patricia’s eyes met mine, and her lips curled into a smirk. “Lucille,” she said sweetly, “I had a bad fall on that hike with Kelvin. He was so sweet to take me to the hospital and bring me back here. Hope that’s alright with you?”
“Do whatever you want.” My voice was steadier than I felt. I gripped the suitcase handle tighter, resisting the urge to throw it at her smug face.
Kelvin’s gaze finally shifted from Patricia to me, eyeing the suitcase. His expression was blank, like I was just some stranger on the street. “Lucille, another one of your dramatic stunts?”
Dramatic? After everything?
Patricia chuckled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “She was always a bit over-the-top, wasn’t she?” She said it with a laugh, a glint in her eyes, enjoying this way too much.
I took a breath, letting my gaze drop from him to her, feeling the ache in my chest spread. “Good luck, Patricia. You’re going to need it.”
Kelvin’s jaw tightened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” I said, stepping closer so he could hear, “one day you’ll look back and realize what you threw away. But by then, it’ll be too late.” I turned to Patricia. “And don’t worry—I won’t be here to see it.”
I started to walk past them, but Kelvin grabbed my arm. “You’re not really leaving, Lucille,” he said, his grip firm, daring me to challenge him.
“Let go!” I snapped, yanking my arm free. “You were gone when I needed you. Gone when Lyra needed you. And where were you?” I motioned to Patricia, my voice shaking with fury. “You were with your mistress!”
Kelvin’s face twisted with irritation. “You’re acting like Lyra is dead.” He scoffed. “Stop acting like she’s gone just to mess with me.”
It felt like a slap. I stared at him, stunned. “You... you really think I’d make that up?!”
Patricia let out a low laugh. “Oh, Lucille, don’t be so sensitive! You always had a flair for the dramatic, but this?” She shook her head, faking pity. “Dragging him into your emotional games just because you’re upset? It’s low, even for you.”
“You’re unreal.” I turned to Kelvin, my voice trembling with anger. “Our daughter died in my arms but where were you?! And now you’re accusing me of lying?”
Kelvin crossed his arms, giving me a cold look. “If she’s dead, where’s the proof?”
The words barely registered. Proof? He thought I was lying? The absurdity of it left me speechless, staring at him as if I didn’t know him at all. Maybe I didn’t.
Silence thickened, almost choking. And then, finally, Kelvin looked away, unease flickering in his eyes. “I don’t have time for this, Lucille.” he muttered, brushing me off like I was nothing more than a nuisance.
“You never had time for any of it, did you?” I whispered, mostly to myself.
Patricia rolled her eyes. “Let her go, Kelvin. Maybe she’ll realize how silly she’s being once she cools off.”
Chapter 2Kelvin didn’t look at me as he helped Patricia to the couch, setting her down with a gentleness I’d never known from him. He knelt in front of her, his eyes soft, his touch tender as he adjusted her sling. I felt like an outsider in my own home, watching them like I was invisible.
I’d always known he was distant, that he never fully belonged to me. But seeing it so plainly, knowing how easily he replaced me, hurt more than anything.
As I watched Kelvin tending to Patricia, a painful memory crept into my mind, sharp as a blade.
I remembered the nights I’d been sick, weak and alone in that same house. Days when I could barely lift my head, let alone take care of Lyra. And where was Kelvin then? He was nowhere to be found—never there to hold my hand, bring me medicine, or offer even a moment of comfort.
It was Lyra who’d tried to help, her tiny hands holding a glass of water up to me, her worried eyes watching over me in ways a child never should have to. And as I looked at Kelvin now, doting on Patricia like she was made of glass, the unfairness of it all tightened in my chest until I could barely breathe.
Seeing him with her, it was painfully clear—he never wanted to be there for me, even when I needed him most.
Without another word, I took my suitcase and left but…
I hadn’t even reached the door when Patricia’s voice slid through the air like poison.
“You know, Kelvin,” she drawled, clutching her sling as if she was still in pain, “Did you know that Lucille’s always been jealous of me? Obsessed with her ‘perfect little family.’ So desperate for control… even over her own daughter.”
I paused, feeling the heat crawl up my neck. “What are you talking about, Patricia?”
She raised a brow, her mouth curling into a fake, concerned pout. “I never said anything, but… I saw you, Lucille.” Her eyes flicked to Kelvin. “I saw her putting things in Lyra’s food, her milk. She wanted Lyra to get sick so she’d have an excuse to play the grieving mother and got your attention.”
Kelvin’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing at me. “Is that true?”
“Are you serious?” I laughed, but it was forced, shaky. “Kelvin, do you hear yourself?”
Patricia gasped, putting a hand over her heart as if I’d wounded her. “Lucille, I watched you poison your own daughter! And now you’re trying to play innocent?”
I marched over to her, my fists clenched at my sides. “Stop making up stories, Patricia! Or you'll regret it.”
Patricia let out a soft, pitiful whimper, glancing at Kelvin as if she were the victim here. “Kelvin… do you see? Do you see what I mean? She’s unhinged.”
“Unhinged?” I repeated, my voice cracking. “I didn’t know I had a snake for a sister! One who spins lies just to steal her sister’s husband!”
But Kelvin’s expression was ice cold. “Funny,” he said, crossing his arms. “Patricia has no reason to lie. But you? You’ve always been… extreme.”
“Extreme?” I couldn’t believe it.
Patricia leaned forward, sneering just enough so Kelvin couldn’t see. “You always wanted people to feel sorry for you, Lucille. Everyone knows you love to play the victim.”
“You—!” The words tangled in my throat, replaced by a surge of white-hot rage. I raised my hand, and before I knew it, I’d slapped her. Hard.
Patricia’s face snapped to the side, her hand flying to her cheek. She let out a dramatic cry, collapsing into the couch, clutching her face like I’d broken something.
“Kelvin!” she wailed, tears welling in her eyes. “Did you see that? She hit me!”
Kelvin was on me in seconds. He slapped me hard across the face, the force sending me stumbling backward until I hit the floor. My vision blurred as pain exploded across my cheek, my nose starting to bleed. I held my face, staring up at him in shock.
“What is wrong with you?” he snarled, towering over me. “Patricia just got back from the hospital, and you slap her? She’s been nothing but good to you!”
I steadied myself, gripping the floor to keep from falling apart. Kelvin’s glare drilled into me, and Patricia’s smug smile only made it worse. The anger I felt burned through every part of me, but I forced myself to stay calm.
“Nothing but good to me?” I repeated, pushing myself to stand. “Are you really this blind, Kelvin? Or do you just enjoy playing along with her little act?”
“Lucille, don’t start,” he snapped, folding his arms. “You’ve caused enough trouble tonight!”
I let out a hollow laugh. “Oh, I’m causing trouble? I’m the one causing trouble?” I shook my head, looking from him to her. “Patricia knows exactly what she’s doing, and you’re letting her. But you know what? I don’t care anymore.”
Kelvin’s gaze darkened, his voice cold. “Apologize to Patricia. Now. On your knees.”
“Apologize? To her? Wow. Why would I?”
Without another word, Kelvin’s hand shot out, gripping my arm in an iron hold. He yanked me forward, dragging me toward Patricia. I stumbled, struggling to keep my balance, but he didn’t loosen his grip.
“You’re going to do it,” he snarled, pulling me right in front of her. “And you’re going to mean it.”
I glared at Patricia, who was smirking through her crocodile tears. Her satisfaction made my stomach churn, but I swallowed hard, refusing to let them see me break.
“Apologize!” Kelvin ordered, his grip tightening painfully on my arm.
Chapter 3“I’ll never apologize to someone who manipulates people like you do, Patricia.”
Patricia’s face hardened, and Kelvin’s grip grew even more painful, but I held my ground.
Patricia put a hand on Kelvin’s arm, giving him a sad, sympathetic look. “Kelvin, just let her go,” she said, voice soft and pitiful. “I don’t want to see her like this. She’s still my sister, and I care about her so much.”
Kelvin looked at her, his expression softening. “Are you sure? She doesn’t deserve it, Patricia.”
Patricia nodded, giving a small sigh. “I don’t know why she hates me so much, Kelvin. I’ve always tried to be there for her.” She turned her teary eyes to me, her voice all sad and shaky. “Lucille, I really don’t understand why you treat me this way. I’ve only ever wanted the best for you. You’re my sister.”
She looked like she might cry, playing her part perfectly. Anyone else might have believed her, fallen for the whole innocent act, but I knew better. The way her lips just barely twitched, the glint in her eye she couldn’t quite hide—it was all a show.
Kelvin dropped his arm, looking at me like I was the problem. “She’s reaching out to you, Lucille, and this is how you act?”
My chest burned with frustration. “You really don’t see it, do you, Kelvin? You don’t see how she plays you—how she plays *everyone*.”
Patricia gasped, her hand over her mouth like I’d hurt her with my words. “Lucille, please,” she whispered. “I just want us to be close again. You were my best friend…”
I wanted to scream the truth, to make him see her for what she really was, but I knew it was pointless. Patricia had him wrapped around her finger, and no matter how much I tried, she’d made sure I’d only look like the villain.
AI let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head as I took a step back. “You know what? I’m done with this little game. “Believe whatever you want, Patricia. If lying about me helps you feel better about yourself, go right ahead.” I turned to Kelvin, feeling the sting of his betrayal like a knife. “But you, Kelvin… you don’t deserve to know the truth anymore.”
He frowned, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I took a deep breath, letting the weight of it all sink in. “It means I’m done. I’m done trying to prove myself to someone who never wanted to believe me in the first place.”
I reached into my bag and pulled out the photos from Lyra’s funeral. My hands were shaking as I held them up, the images flashing in the light.
“Here!” I said, throwing them at him. The pictures scattered across the floor, images of the casket, of me standing alone by her grave, of Lyra's tiny, fragile body surrounded by flowers.
Kelvin’s eyes widened as he looked down at them, his expression faltering. “What…?”
“Proof, right?” My voice was sharp, biting. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Proof that she’s gone? There it is. Look at it, Kelvin. Look at what you missed.”
He didn’t say anything, just stared at the photos in shock. For once, Patricia was silent, her face pale.
“I buried her alone,” I continued, my voice hard. “While you were having the best time of your life with your mistress!” I shot a look at Patricia, who had the decency to flinch. “You didn’t care enough to come back, and now you’re standing here, accusing me of doing something to her?! Wow.”
Kelvin looked away, “Lucille, I… I didn’t know.”
“Of course, you didn’t,” I said, my tone softening, but only a bit. “Because you didn’t want to know. Because you’d rather believe her lies than face the truth.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but I held up a hand, stopping him. “Save it, Kelvin. I’m done listening!”
I turned toward the door, feeling lighter, freer than I had in years. As I reached for the handle, I heard him take a step toward me.
“Lucille, wait.”
I stopped, but I didn’t look back. “Why should I?”
“Can we… talk about this?” His voice was softer, almost pleading. “I didn’t realize—”
I let out a bitter laugh. “No, Kelvin. You didn’t realize, and that’s exactly why I’m leaving. There’s nothing left to talk about.”
“Fine!” Patricia snapped, breaking her silence. “Go, then. Run away, like you always do.”
I finally turned to face her, giving her a look that could cut steel. “Oh, I’m not running away, Patricia. I’m setting myself free.” I glanced at Kelvin, my gaze steady. “Good luck. You’ll need it with her.”
Kelvin’s face twisted in frustration, “Then why didn’t you tell me she was gone? Why didn’t you call? Or at least send a message? My God, Lucille, our daughter died, and I had to find out like this?!”
Our daughter?
Pff.
I laughed sarcastically. “Are you serious? I called you, Kelvin. I called you so many times. I sent messages—hundreds of them. But you never answered. You never responded.” I turned a glare to Patricia, my jaw clenched. “Or should I say, *you never got them*?”
Kelvin’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, come on, Kelvin.” I glanced at Patricia, whose face paled slightly. “Ask your precious Patricia where your phone was. Ask her why she ‘helped’ you by making sure you were out of reach. Ask yourself why you’re an irresponsible father! And ask her why you missed your own daughter’s last request while she dragged you off on some ‘emergency’ vacation.”
His face twisted with confusion, then anger, as he looked at Patricia. “Is that true?”