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Bridget Moody was Waylon Fischer's wife, yet everyone branded her a homewrecker. All thanks to Daniella Skinner, the wife of Waylon's late teammate. Back then, Waylon's teammate died in a fire while saving him. Daniella went mad and began mistaking Waylon for her own husband. Out of gratitude, Waylon catered to her every whim, without a single word of refusal. But Bridget knew that when others weren't around, that crazy woman wasn't the pitiable creature she pretended to be. Finally, pushed to her breaking point by Daniella’s constant provocations, Bridget snapped. She grabbed Daniella by her throat. Yet in the blink of an eye, the aggressive Daniella morphed into a picture of helpless innocence. “Bridget! What are you doing?” Waylon, who appears out of nowhere, shoves Bridget away forcefully. “Why must you be so cruel? Can’t you just be kind to her?” Exhausted, blood trickling from her temple, Bridget stared at the woman feigning madness beside Waylon, unable to utter a word. “Waylon, let's get a divorce.” “Don't be ridiculous! I'm taking Daniella on a trip to help her relax. As for you, stay home and reflect on your behavior!” Waylon expected to find a repentant, submissive Bridget upon his return. But when he opened the door, all he found was a dust-covered floor, and an empty, desolate house. He froze. -- "You're still so young, with a promising future. Why must you be a homewrecker?" The policewoman sighed, glancing at Bridget Moody beside her. "Look at you. You've got such a pretty face. You could have any man you wanted. Why humiliate yourself like this? Now the indignant passers-by stripped your clothes off and humiliated you in public. Is this what you wanted?" After chewing Bridget out, she jabbed a finger at Waylon Fischer and laid into him, too. "And you, your wife adores you. She's been calling your name nonstop since she walked into this station. How could you cheat on her!" Waylon pulled Daniella Skinner close, his head hanging low. "You're right. It was all my fault." At his words, a bitter, self-mocking glint flickered across Bridget's eyes. The marriage certificate between her and Waylon was right there in her bag. But she didn't bother taking it out anymore. She knew it would be useless. The last time she'd pulled it out in front of everyone, Waylon had claimed she'd forged it. In that instant, every eye around her had pinned her with contempt. Every single person was convinced she was a homewrecker who'd ruined a happy family. Those so-called upholders of justice tackled her to the ground, tearing her clothes off and kicking her while she lay completely defenseless. Meanwhile, Waylon took Daniella away with him without a second glance. After finishing her statement, Bridget grabbed her bag and headed for the station door. The second she stepped outside, a shiver racked her body. Her clothes were ripped to rags. She could only wrap her arms tightly around herself to ward off the cold. Waylon, standing nearby, shrugged off his coat and draped it over Daniella's shoulders. Daniella smiled up at him, tiptoeing to press a kiss to his cheek. Waylon froze, and his gaze darted instinctively to Bridget beside him. But Bridget's blank, unresponsive expression caught him off guard. Once he'd seen Daniella to the car, he hurried back and blocked Bridget just as she was about to get into hers. "Bridie, let me explain what happened today..." Bridget wrenched her hand out of his grasp without hesitation, sneering, "Save it. I get it. I know you think you owe her everything. Her husband died saving your life, after all. You blame yourself for her breakdown, so you're determined to atone for it for the rest of your life. Fine, then ... let's get a divorce, Waylon." Bridget choked back her tears, forcing the last words out through a tight throat. Three years ago, she and Waylon had been the envy of everyone. As a childhood sweetheart couple, they were like a match made in heaven. Their ten-year relationship had left everyone in awe. But on their wedding day, Waylon had received an urgent mission. Bridget had thought it would be just like any other time. Waylon would return safely, and she'd simply wait for him to come back, with the bouquet in her hand, to finish what they'd started. Yet when Waylon did come home unharmed, he brought Daniella with him. Then Bridget learned the truth: Daniella's husband had sacrificed his life to protect Waylon during a fire rescue. It was because of that sacrifice that Waylon had survived, while Daniella's husband had burned to death in the flames. The news had driven Daniella completely insane. She'd fixated on Waylon, stubbornly insisting he was her husband. Haunted by the gratitude of a life saved, Waylon had brought Daniella home. After settling Daniella down that night, he spoke to Bridget specifically, "Bridie, I'm only taking her in 'cause she lost her husband because of me. I promise. Give me a year, and I'll find her a proper place to stay. We'll have our wedding then. I swear I'll make it up to you." At first, Bridget had felt sorry for Daniella. She'd trusted Waylon's love for her and their bond. So she'd endured it all. Even when Daniella had demanded to move into their bedroom and share the bed with Waylon every night, calling him "baby" and wearing a matching couple's ring with him. But a year passed, and Waylon had no intention of sending Daniella away. If anything, the two had grown closer while Waylon had started keeping Bridget at arm's length whenever Daniella was around. Daniella and Waylon had seemed more like a real couple than she and Waylon ever had. Bridget had swallowed her pain, time and time again, until the day she'd witnessed Daniella kiss Waylon. In that moment, her long-suppressed emotions had finally erupted. But when she'd begged for an explanation, Waylon had only brushed it off lightly. "Bridie, she's sick. Besides, I owe her this." Those two sentences had kept Daniella in their home for another two years. Daniella had even taken to treating Bridget like the mistress, showing up at her workplace to cause chaos, forcing her to resign. Sometimes, Bridget would just be walking down the street when Daniella would dart out from behind and push her to the ground, screaming that she was a homewrecker. Some random passersby bought into Daniella's lies, joining in to kick Bridget. But what crushed Bridget most wasn't the blows. It was then that when Waylon finally came over, he didn't bother explaining anything to the crowd. Instead, he immediately pulled Daniella into his arms to calm her down. That was how everyone became convinced Bridget was the homewrecker. Today, Bridget had just gone to the mall to purchase herself a birthday cake when Daniella suddenly charged out, grabbing her by the hair and slapping her hard across the face. Daniella even shrieked, "You bich! How dare you steal my husband? Why?" Then Daniella started tearing at Bridget's clothes like crazy. Bridget screamed for help in despair. But the onlookers only stared at her with disdain, and some even recognized her. Because she'd lost count of how many times Daniella had attacked her in the street like this. "That woman getting beaten looks familiar. Isn't she the mistress from that viral video?" "I think it is her. She's got some nerve still hanging around. I heard she even waved a marriage certificate around, claiming she's the real wife, but the guy straight-up said it was fake. How humiliating!" --- Bridget clung to her clothes for dear life, trying to cling to her last shred of dignity. But the passersby, all convinced she was the homewrecker, held her arms pinned down. She could only watch in helpless horror as Daniella ripped her clothes to tatters, the flash of cameras blinding her until she couldn't open her eyes. It wasn't until someone finally took pity and called the police that the madness stopped, leaving her lying on the ground like a crumpled piece of trash. ###Chapter 2 "I don't agree to a divorce, Bridie," Waylon frowned and said briefly. After a long, weighted silence, he spoke slowly, "Why can't you understand me? Dani's husband died saving my life. It's my fault. I owe her. I have to take care of her for the rest of her life." Bridget's lips twisted into a bitter smile as she said coldly, "Then divorce me and marry her. Problem solved. I'm not stopping you from shouldering that responsibility." Waylon's voice rose, edged with exasperation. "But I love you! Bridie, what's gotten into you? Did you really have to make a scene like this today?" At the word "love", Bridget let out a mocking laugh. "Waylon, do you still really love? Other than holding a marriage certificate, in what way do we resemble a real couple?" She paused, lowering her head as a humorless chuckle escaped her. "Well, I almost forgot it. You did say the marriage certificate was fake, didn't you?" She waited for a response, but none came. When she looked up, she found him staring intently at his phone, completely oblivious to her. Waylon's utter indifference was like a bucket of ice-cold water dumped over her head. In that instant, she finally realized that the Waylon who'd once loved her more than his own life and had spoiled her for a decade was gone. Now, the man standing in front of her felt like a stranger to her. Her voice cracked as she forced the words out, her gaze fixed on the ground. "Waylon, let's get a divorce. Do you have time tomorrow? We can go..." But Waylon cut her off, pinching the bridge of his nose, his tone thick with weariness. "I'm swamped lately. Can you please stop being so unreasonable, Bridie?" Then he pocketed his phone, pulled Bridget into his embrace, and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Don't say the word divorce again. You're carrying our child. We can't divorce." Bridget's lips tightened into a sardonic line. So Waylon did remember she was preegnant. Waylon let her go, already turning toward Daniella. "Dani's been saying she wants to eat out. You head home first." Bridget watched his retreating back, feeling the last flicker of warmth in her heart gutter out like a candle in the wind. The next day, Waylon drove both her and Daniella to the hospital, but he left her to fend for herself at the Gynaecology & Obstetrics Department like he always did. He said, "Bridie, I'm taking Dani to her psychology follow-up first. Go straight home once you finish your checkup." Before she'd walked far, Bridget caught sight of their hands intertwined. She forced a bitter smile, then turned and headed for the Gynaecology & Obstetrics Department. Only this time was different. It wasn't about checking on the baby's health. She was here to give up her baby. Right before she entered the operating room, the doctor stopped her. "Ms. Moody, are you certain you want to do this? Your uterine lining is thin. This procedure could ... leave you unable to conceive for the rest of your life." Bridget nodded without a moment's hesitation. "Yes. No matter the cost, I have to give up this child." As the medicine slowly took effect, Bridget's consciousness slipped away. In a hazy daze, she saw Waylon as he'd been three years ago. Back then, his eyes held only her, no one else. Back then, he'd put her first, no matter what. She'd always dreamed of having a baby with him after the wedding, of building a happy little family together. But now, all of that was nothing more than a teenage fantasy. And it would never come true. When she woke up after the surgery, the sky outside the window had already turned dark. She unlocked her phone to find just one message from Waylon. "Where are you? Why aren't you home? Dani said she wants to have the broth you make tonight." After Daniella had pressured her into quitting her job over and over again, the only "compensation" Waylon had offered was telling her to quit and stay home to take care of Daniella full-time. Bridget still remembered his exact words clearly. "Forget the job. I can afford to support you and Dani anyway. This way, you can stay home and look after her." Bridget's fingers tightened around the phone, her gaze darkening instantly. In the end, she checked out of the hospital early, ignoring the doctor's urgent warnings. But she didn't go home to make broth for Daniella. Instead, she went straight to the law firm. The divorce agreement she'd asked her lawyer to draft was already waiting for her. When she got home, she found Daniella alone in the house. Bridget stared down at Daniella, who was sitting on the floor twisting her fingers, and said coldly, "Where's Waylon?" Daniella bit her thumbnail, silent for a moment before suddenly breaking into a giggle. "Lonny went ... he went to purchase pastries for me from Northside." A flicker of bitterness crossed Bridget's eyes. Northside was nearly a hundred kilometers away, and Waylon had driven all that way just to get her pastries. Suddenly, Bridget recalled that last year, she'd had a high fever in the middle of the night, begging Waylon to take her to the hospital. But he'd complained about the mere ten-kilometer drive, saying Daniella couldn't be left alone for long. In the end, she'd dragged her 40-degree fevered body to the hospital alone, only to collapse at the entrance. ###Chapter 3 Bridget squatted down in front of Daniella, saying softly, "Do you want me to leave here?" Daniella let out a shrill scream, suddenly shoving her to the ground and yanking at her hair. "You're a homewrecker! You're trying to steal Lonny! Get out! Lonny is mine!" Bridget gritted her teeth through the pain and pulled out the divorce agreement. The second Daniella caught sight of the document, she slowly stopped her thrashing. "What is this?" she asked, staring at it with curious eyes. Bridget smiled faintly, "Tell Waylon to sign this. Once he puts his name on it, I'll leave him for good. No one will ever come between you and him again. He'll be yours forever." Daniella's eyes lit up at her final sentence. "Forever ... mine?" Bridget nodded, flipping to the last page and pointing at the signature line. "When he gets back, just tell him to sign right here. But don't let him read the rest of it, okay?" Daniella suddenly looked up at her. Bridget couldn't be sure if it was just her imagination, but she seemed to see a flash of joy in Daniella's eyes. Afraid Daniella might not understand, Bridget was about to repeat the instructions. But before she could say anything, Daniella suddenly grabbed the document and marched toward the bedroom. Watching her retreating figure, Bridget was hit with an unsettling thought: Daniella didn't have a mental problem at all. Bridget paused, then shook her head. It didn't matter anymore. Soon, she'd be gone, and Waylon and Daniella would vanish from her life completely. After handing over the divorce papers, Bridget went back to her room and started packing her things. On her way home from the law firm, she'd received a job offer from a foreign company, notifying her to start in seven days. Now her passport, plane ticket, and everything else were ready. She just needed Waylon's signature on the divorce papers. She placed the gifts Waylon had given her over the years into a box one by one. Most of them were handmade, delicate little things that showed how much thought he'd put into them back then. Once, these gifts had filled Bridget's heart with deep love. Now, looking at them, she felt nothing but bitter irony. It turned out that love would fade away completely in the end anyway. After packing for what felt like ages, she finally stowed all the gifts Waylon had given her into the box. Just as she was about to seal it shut, Waylon walked in. Seeing Bridget flustered move to cover the box, he frowned. "What are you packing?" Bridget quickly taped the box closed, her voice steady. "Nothing. Just some trash I don't want anymore." Waylon scanned the room, finding nothing out of the ordinary, and let his doubts slide. "Dani wants to go to the amusement park tomorrow. Coming with us." Bridget hesitated. "I'm afraid I need..." But Waylon cut her off sharply before she could finish. "Be ready at eight tomorrow. Don't oversleep. By the way, remember to bring the bag from the living room. It's got all the stuff Dani might need." Bridget bit back her words, a flicker of self-mockery crossing her eyes. With that, Waylon hefted the box in front of her. "You don't want any of this, huh? I'll help you haul it out to the door." As they reached the doorway, Daniella suddenly called out his name from the bedroom. At the sound of her voice, Waylon immediately dropped the box at the door and turned to leave. The second the box hit the ground, the sharp crack of breaking glass echoed from inside. The sound seemed to jog something in his memory. Waylon turned to look at Bridget with a thoughtful glint in his eyes. "I haven't seen that porcelain vase I made you for your 23rd birthday in ages. Did you put it somewhere safe?" Bridget's gaze flicked to the box on the floor. She'd tucked that very vase inside while packing in her room. Undoubtedly, that shattering sound was the vase breaking into shards. Her hands twitched, and she replied calmly, "Yeah. I was worried I'd knock it over if I left it out, so I put it in the box." Waylon didn't look entirely convinced, but he didn't press the matter further. Bridget let out a quiet sigh of relief. As soon as Waylon stepped into Daniella's room, she rushed to call the waste collectors to haul the box away. Once the box was gone, she went back inside. Passing by Daniella and Waylon's room, she heard the sound of their laughter drifting out. Bridget's shoulders tensed involuntarily. She quickly turned and retreated to the spare empty room. The laughter continued on and off all night long. Bridget tried stuffing earplugs in her ears, but they did nothing to block it out. She didn't manage to fall asleep until the wee hours of the morning. The only thing that lifted her spirits was the divorce agreement that had been left on her nightstand the next morning. She reached for it without hesitation, flipping straight to the last page. In an instant, her heart skipped a beat, and she froze. It actually already bore Waylon's signature! ###Chapter 4 Her fingers tightened around the divorce agreement, and her resolve in that idea grew stronger by the second. Daniella might not be crazy at all. She'd been pretending all these years! Otherwise, how could a delusional person trick Waylon into signing the document without him reading its contents? But before she could dwell on it, Waylon pushed open the door and stepped in. Bridget quickly tucked the divorce agreement into a drawer. Luckily, Waylon didn't notice anything amiss. He simply held out a bag and a coat. "The bag has Dani's water bottle and some snacks. This is her jacket. It's a bit chilly today. I don't want her to feel cold later on." Once, Bridget would have refused to take these things from him outright. But all that ever got her was a pointless argument. Those repeated fights never made Waylon see the injustice she endured. They only made him grow more impatient with her. So why bother? She might as well leave quickly. She'd no longer humiliate herself here, begging for a man's love. Bridget took the bag and coat, nodding softly. "Got it." Her cold, indifferent reaction somehow sent a panic through Waylon, as if something was slipping beyond his control. But before he could speak, Bridget had already turned and walked out with her things. After going downstairs, Bridget headed straight for the back seat of the car. Sure enough, she got in, only to see Daniella sitting in the passenger seat. Bridget had never been allowed to take that seat since Daniella moved in with them. Besides, the scent in the car made her frown. It was exactly the same as Daniella's perfume. Waylon had not only replaced the car's air freshener with something Daniella liked, but even the decorations inside were chosen by her. The passenger seat even had a special plush cushion, picked out to keep Daniella comfortable. During the entire drive to the amusement park, Bridget didn't say a single word. She sat silently in the back seat, watching expressionlessly as Daniella fed Waylon snacks, and the two laughed and chatted the whole way. Waylon indulged Daniella so much, responding to her every whim. Even more, as they waited at a red light, Daniella leaned over and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Bridget averted her gaze slightly at the sight. After the kiss, Waylon instinctively glanced up at Bridget in the rearview mirror, only to find her gaze fixed elsewhere, not sparing them a single look. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his voice soft as he tried to explain, "Bridie, it's just..." But Bridget cut him off coldly. "I was a little tired, so I took a nap. What's wrong?" Her dismissive tone left Waylon tongue-tied. Soon, the three of them arrived at the amusement park. As soon as they got out of the car, Bridget consciously fell back behind Waylon and Daniella. To outsiders, she looked like a nanny accompanying her employers for the day. Daniella had already looped her arm through Waylon's, pointing excitedly at the giant pendulum ride in the distance. "I want to play that! Lonny! I want to play that!" But today, Waylon's attention kept drifting unconsciously to Bridget. Daniella tugged him toward the giant pendulum ride, then suddenly let go and ran over to Bridget. "Lonny, I want her to play with me!" Bridget's heart jolted violently, her nails digging deep into her palms. She looked up at Waylon, her voice barely audible. "Waylon, don't forget that I'm..." She didn't finish the sentence, but she was certain he remembered her preegnancy. Before Waylon could respond, Daniella suddenly dropped to the ground and threw a tantrum. She clung to Waylon's pants, sobbing uncontrollably. "I want her to play with me! I do! All of you ignore me. You're going to abandon me just like everyone else..." Daniella began tearing at her hair, slapping her own cheeks repeatedly. Waylon rushed to hug her anxiously. "Dani, stop! Good girl, don't hurt yourself." Daniella pointed at Bridget with red, tear-filled eyes, her voice choked with sobs. "I want her to go on the giant pendulum ride with me." The scene fell into a tense stalemate. Waylon sighed heavily, his tone softening with helplessness. "Okay, she will. Just calm down. The doctor said you can't get overly emotional." The gentle and patient way he comforted Daniella made Bridget close her eyes in despair. Waylon stood up, taking the bag from her hand. A complex mix of emotions flickered across his face. "Bridie, the baby was only a month old. It should be okay, right? Can you just go with her? For me?" The last glimmer of light in Bridget's eyes faded completely. A broken, hollow sound escaped her throat. "Do I even have a choice?" With that, she turned and walked toward the ticket booth. ###Chapter 5 As the ride slowly ascended, Bridget squeezed her eyes shut in terror. The real reason she'd resisted the ride had nothing to do with the baby in her belly. After all, the child had been gone for days. It was her crippling fear of heights. She'd thought Waylon would remember. But he'd forgotten completely. Bridget's mind drifted to a mountain climb they'd taken together years ago. Halfway up, her fear of heights had hit hard. Her legs had gone weak, and she couldn't take another step. Waylon had carried her the rest of the way up the trail. On the cable car ride down, he'd held her tightly in his arms, carefully covering her eyes to shield her from the drop below. After that day, no matter how much he loved climbing, he'd never asked her to come along again. A bitter, self-mocking glint flickered across Bridget's eyes. She'd begun to wonder if that Waylon, the man who'd doted on her and cherished her every fear, had been nothing more than a figment of her imagination. Otherwise, how could there be no trace of him left in the man standing beside her now? Once the giant pendulum ride lurched into motion, she clamped her eyes tightly shut, her jaw clenched so hard, her hands wrapped around the safety bar in front of her. She'd thought she could grit her way through it, that closing her eyes would make the terror pass faster. But the ride jolted to a sudden, jarring halt with a loud click. Screams erupted all around her. Bridget pried her eyes open slowly, only to realize that the giant pendulum ride had stalled mid-air. They were hanging a hundred meters above the ground. Even as reassuring announcements blared from the park's speakers, the passengers around her began to break down. Desperate wails echoed in her ears. Bridget had just forced herself to steady her breathing when the panic around her sent her heart racing all over again. Thankfully, the fire department arrived quickly. Rescuers began evacuating passengers one by one, starting from the front row and working their way back. But just as they reached the third row from the end, the entire track tilted sharply to one side, and the giant pendulum ride lurched precariously with it. Bridget and Daniella were in the very last row. They'd waited endlessly for their turn to be rescued. But as the rescue ladder finally drew near, the track tilted again. The whole structure looked ready to collapse at any second. The firefighter on the ladder frowned in confusion for a split second, then pulled out his phone and dialed a number. When the call connected, Bridget recognized that he was calling Waylon. The firefighter said urgently, "Waylon, your wife and Dani are still stuck up here. Who do you want us to save first? I have to warn you. The track's shaking badly. It could collapse any second. You need to decide now." Waylon fell silent. As the seconds ticked by, Bridget's mouth pressed into a thin line. She remained silent. But Daniella, beside her, wailed into the phone at the top of her lungs. "Lonny! Save me! It's so high. I don't want to play anymore! I want to go down, Lonny!" Time dragged on. Bridget's fingers, clamped around the guardrail, turned pale. Finally, Waylon's voice came through the phone. "Save Dani first." Bridget's heart jolted violently, her nails digging deep into her palms. But she was powerless to do anything. She could only watch as the rescuers maneuvered the ladder toward Daniella. She would have to wait until Daniella was safely down before the ladder could come back for her. She watched as Daniella was carefully lifted onto the ladder and slowly lowered to the ground. Even from a hundred meters up, she could see the figure that rushed to cradle Daniella the second her feet touched the earth. She knew it better than anyone that it was Waylon. But at that exact moment, the track beneath Bridget creaked, as if it could no longer bear the strain. There was a loud crack. Bridget felt the platform lurch violently to one side. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the cold embrace of death. But instead of the sharp impact of the ground, she seemed to crash into something soft. Then a searing pain exploded across her entire body. Her vision turned pitch dark. She tried to scream, but no sound escaped her mouth. Her strength drained away, and her consciousness faded into darkness. When she woke up again, the pungent smell of disinfectant filled her nostrils. Opening her eyes slowly, she found herself lying in a hospital bed. The realization that she was alive washed over Bridget, and a surge of fierce joy burst in her eyes. She'd thought this was the end for sure, falling from that height. But somehow, she'd survived. She wanted to pinch herself to check if this was a dream, but the second she lifted her hand, a wave of throbbing pain shot through her body. Just then, a nurse walked in pushing a medication cart. When she saw Bridget's eyes flutter open, she let out a gasp of surprise. "You're awake." Bridget nodded weakly, trying to prop herself up to speak. The nurse hurried over and gently pressed her back down onto the bed. "Don't try to sit up. Lie back down at once. You landed in a tree nearby when you fell. If you'd hit the ground directly from a hundred meters up, you'd be dead for sure. Even so, the fall left you with severe injuries. You had multiple fractures all over your body. If it weren't for the doctors' expertise, not even a miracle could've saved you." After the nurse finished changing Bridget's dressings, a flicker of sympathy crossed her face. "Shall I call your family for you? You've been in the hospital for days now, and no one's come to visit or take care of you." Bridget lowered her gaze, shaking her head slowly. "No need. I don't have any family left." ###Chapter 6 A few more days passed in the hospital before Waylon finally showed up. But he was in and out in a hurry, glued to his phone the entire time he sat by Bridget's bed, barely sparing her a glance. Before he'd even sat down for a while, he was already getting to his feet. "Bridie, you know how unstable Dani is. I can't leave her alone at home. She'll panic." Bridget stared at the steel plates holding her broken bones together. Her mouth twitched. She thought, "Daniella couldn't take care of herself. How about me? Can I then?" But she bit back the words. It was pointless anyway... Waylon would only accuse her of being jealous. It had happened a hundred times before. Why bother repeating it? After Waylon left, Bridget asked the nurse to hire a caregiver for her. With proper care, she recovered little by little. As soon as Bridget was much better, she wasted no time checking out of the hospital. The injury had already made her miss her original start date at the foreign company. Even though she'd requested an extension, she needed to get there as soon as possible. So the second she was discharged, she headed straight home to pack her bags and leave for good. On the way, she booked the earliest flight available. The second she was done packing, she could be gone. When she walked through the front door, only Daniella was in the living room, hunched over the table, fiddling with something red in her hands. Confusion flickered across Bridget's face. Ever since Daniella's husband had died in the fire, she'd had a violent reaction to anything red. She'd have full-blown panic attacks. So Bridget wondered why she was handling a red object so casually now. But Bridget pushed the thought aside. It was not the right time. She hurried to her room to pack her things until her hands froze mid-motion. Something crucial was missing. Her late mother's belonging was gone! Bridget's expression turned icy. At first, she thought she'd misplaced them. But she searched every drawer, cabinet, or hidden nook, and still, there was no sign of it. At that moment, a thought flashed through her mind, and she bolted out the door. But she found Daniella already on the balcony, as if she was scrubbing something. Bridget rushed over at once. The second she saw what Daniella was holding, she froze completely. It was her mother's belonging: the reddish-brown pocket watch. Bridget's heart skipped a beat. She reached out to Daniella slowly. "Daniella, Dani ... can you give that to me?" Daniella glanced at the pocket watch, then back at her, and a smile suddenly spread across her face. "No! It's red. Red things can't be in this house!" After saying that, she held out her hand that was clutching the pocket watch. Bridget's heart shot to her throat. But she knew she couldn't provoke Daniella now. She swallowed the roiling emotions inside her and said softly, "Dani, will you give it back to me? I'll give you anything you want..." But before she could finish, Daniella suddenly opened her hand. A sharp crash rang out. It was the sound of the pocket watch shattering into pieces. Bridget lunged for the railing, then saw the broken pocket watch lying scattered across the ground. The last thread of her sanity snapped. She grabbed Daniella by the collar and slapped Daniella hard. "You did this on purpose, didn't you? You're not crazy at all, Daniella! You've been targeting me this entire time!" Daniella said nothing. But the slow, triumphant curl of her mouth told Bridget everything. Bridget screamed, her composure completely unraveling. She grabbed a glass bottle nearby, ready to smash it. But in an instant, Daniella's expression shifted. She looked at Bridget with terror. "Don't hit me! I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it!" Before Bridget could figure out why Daniella suddenly changed her act, a powerful force slammed into her, shoving her sideways. Her forehead crashed into the edge of the table. Blood trickled down her face, dripping onto the floor. The fresh pain of her reopened wounds made Bridget's face twist in agony. She looked up and saw Waylon standing there. He clutched Daniella tightly in his arms, his face twisted with heartache. After murmuring soothing words to Daniella, he rounded on Bridget, his eyes blazing with anger. "What is wrong with you? Why do you keep targeting Dani like this? Bridget, how did I never see how cruel you are?" Every word was like a knife, piercing straight through her heart. Bridget swallowed the bitter lump in her throat, her voice strained and weak. "She threw my mother's belonging down the stairs deliberately. Don't I have the right to be angry?" Waylon's face darkened, a flicker of deep disappointment crossing his features. "Deliberately? Dani would never do something like that! She's always been sensitive to red objects. How dare you accuse her of doing this on purpose?" Waylon lifted Daniella into his arms bridal-style and strode straight out the door. A while later, he returned to pack his things. Finally, he dragged his suitcase to the door, his gaze cold as he looked at Bridget. "I've rented a new place. Dani and I will be staying there for a while. You can stay here and reflect on what you've done. We'll come back when you finally admit you were wrong." As the words hung in the air, Bridget sank to the floor, her expression empty and indifferent. Once Waylon's footsteps faded completely, she stumbled downstairs and gathered the shattered pieces of the pocket watch into a box. As Bridget stared at the pile of broken metal and glass, her eyes burned red. She hugged the box tightly to her body, sobbing, "I'm so sorry, Mom..." When she'd finally pulled herself together, she dragged her suitcase to the door. Before she left, she laid the now-effective divorce agreement flat on the coffee table. An hour later, the moment Waylon and Daniella set foot into their new house, a plane bound for across the ocean roared into the sky and took off.