Simon attempted to ease the tension, though his tone was more defensive than apologetic. "Raya loves dog meat. Since it's the holiday, we couldn't find any. We can't neglect our guests, can we?"
His words were like a slap in the face. I felt my blood boil, my vision blurring with a red haze. Without thinking, I grabbed him by the collar, pulling him close until our faces were mere inches apart. My voice shook with rage and grief. "Simon! I've had Arlo for seven years—longer than we've been dating and married! He was like my child and you cooked him?!"
The word "child slipped out and as soon as it did, an electric jolt shot through my mind. My heart, already pounding with anger, now raced with an entirely different emotion—fear. A sudden, chilling thought struck me. Whenever I came home, no matter what Eloise was doing, she would always rush out to greet me, arms open wide, her sweet voice calling, "Mommy!" But this time, from the moment I stepped inside, I hadn't seen or heard her at all.
Panic gripped me. I tightened my hold on Simon's arm, my nails digging into his skin. "Where's Eloise? Where did she go?!"
Simon averted his eyes, his face pale and tense. "Eloise... Eloise went out to play. She's not home." His voice wavered, lacking the confidence of a convincing lie.
Just as he finished speaking, a high-pitched scream echoed from the back of the house, cutting through the air. My heart dropped. The voice came from Eloise's room. Without a second's hesitation, I shoved Simon aside, ignoring his protests and sprinted toward the source of the sound.
Bursting into my daughter's room, I was met with a chaotic scene. A little boy was standing on Eloise's bed, scattering my makeup across the sheets, screaming and flailing his arms in a wild tantrum. The neatly arranged room now looked like a disaster zone.
"Get out! Get out! This isn't your house!" I shouted, scanning the room frantically, hoping to see Eloise hiding somewhere. But she wasn't there.
The boy, unfazed by my shouting, swung a small fist at me. His punch landed weakly against my arm, but the audacity of it snapped something inside me. I seized him by his collar, lifting him off the bed as he kicked and wailed in protest. My voice was harsh and trembling. "Where is Eloise?! Tell me where she is!"
The boy, wide-eyed with terror, burst into loud sobs and flung a lipstick at me in a weak attempt to escape.
"Why are you crying?! I'm asking you—where's my daughter?!" My grip tightened, fear and anger twisting together in my chest.
Before I could demand more, Raya stormed into the room, her face contorted with outrage as she grabbed the boy and shielded him behind her. "Elsa! Have you lost your mind?! Why are you yelling at Tyler, my son?"
Her son. Those two words echoed in my head, cold and bitter. My gaze flicked between the frightened boy and Raya and then I turned to Simon, who had rushed in after her. My voice was icy, cutting through the air like a blade. "Just a friend, you said? Yet you have a child with her, haven't you?"
The boy looked to be about the same age as Eloise—five, maybe six. The realization hit me like a blow to the stomach. While I was pregnant with our daughter, Simon had already been cheating on me, fathering another child.
Simon stammered, his face drained of color. "Elsa, I-I was young and reckless, okay? Men can't control themselves sometimes. You can't blame me!"
The pathetic excuse only fueled my fury. Without thinking, I slapped him hard across the face. The sharp sound echoed in the room as he stumbled back, clutching his cheek in shock. My voice, now low and deadly, trembled with restrained rage. "I don't want to hear your excuses. I just want to know—where is my daughter?!"
Still dazed from the slap, Simon stuttered, "She's... she's at the hospital."
The words sank in slowly, each one dragging me deeper into a pit of dread. My mind raced with horrible possibilities. Without wasting another second, I grabbed my coat and turned toward the door.
Behind me, Evelyn's shrill voice rang out, berating me. "How dare you hit my son?! Have you lost all sense of decency?"
At the same time, Raya stepped forward, blocking my path. Her expression was a mix of anger and fear. "You just want to leave after making Tyler cry?!"
Simon joined them, desperation lacing his voice as he tried to block the doorway. "Elsa, wait! Our daughter is just not feeling well. It's nothing serious. You don't need to go see her."
I stared at the three of them, standing shoulder to shoulder as if forming a barricade against me. My hands clenched into fists, my nails digging painfully into my palms. Fury burned in my chest, but beneath it was a gnawing fear—fear for Eloise, fear of what they might have done. My voice was cold, filled with steely resolve. "Get out of my way. Otherwise, I swear I'll send every one of you to the hospital myself."
Without waiting for a response, I shoved past them with all the force I could muster, ignoring their protests and curses as I stormed out of the house and into the cold night air.
***
The hospital was eerily quiet, the sterile scent of disinfectant thick in the air. It was New Year's Eve, yet the usual festive atmosphere was absent here. Every step I took down the dimly lit corridor felt heavier than the last, my heart pounding in my chest.
Finally, I reached the door to Eloise's ward. I pushed it open slowly and my breath caught in my throat at the sight before me.
Eloise lay on the hospital bed, her small frame dwarfed by the white sheets. Her leg was encased in a bulky cast and her face was pale and tear-streaked. The moment she saw me, her eyes filled with fresh tears and she began to sob quietly.
"Mommy... Daddy doesn't want me anymore... He even let Tyler bully me..." Her voice was soft, trembling with fear and sadness.
I rushed to her side, wrapping my arms around her trembling body. My throat tightened with emotion as I gently stroked her back. "Don't be afraid, baby. Mommy's here now. Mommy's here..."
She clung to me desperately, her tiny hands clutching my coat as if afraid I would disappear. I held her tightly, trying to steady my own breathing as tears threatened to spill. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I whispered gently, "Tell Mommy, who did this to you?"
