Broken Hand, Broken Heart

My son accidentally burns my husband's first love's hand. My husband cruelly breaks my son's hand to teach him a lesson. He's in so much pain that he can't see straight and falls into a lake. Blood dyes the water red.

I hold him close as I sob and call my husband, pleading for help. My husband doesn't care, though. "It's just a broken hand—he'll be fine once it's set in a cast. He'll only do worse things in the future if he's not taught a lesson now!"

Later, my son drowns in the lake because he's not rescued in time. My husband loses his mind when he sees his body.

"How could he have died when he only had a broken hand?"

I used to have a playful, sweet son, Shawn Sorensen.

But now, his skin looked pale and puffy from being underwater for too long. The blood on the severed half of his hand had dried up a long time ago, but it would never heal.

People kept telling me to cry and get my pain out, but I didn't. I quietly handled everything for Shawn before placing him in the cold coffin.

That was when I got a call from Zach Sorensen.

"Has he seriously not picked up the burn cream yet? It's obvious he's not just a jerk, but a complete idiot! He can't even handle getting something so simple. What a waste of time.

"Sue's a painter. Are you going to take the fall if she can't hold a paintbrush anymore?" He sounded impatient and very irritated, with no hint of guilt for Shawn.

I stayed silent.

Zach's patience was shot. "Get him over here right now to kneel and apologize to Sue! We can't just brush this off!"

I gently put my hand on Shawn's half-hand, closed the coffin, and went to look for Zach.

He was applying burn cream to Sue Green in the big, empty villa. I noticed how gentle he looked—an expression I'd never seen on him before.

A stainless steel tray sat behind them on the square dining table. Inside the tray lay Shawn's severed hand—the very one Zach had ordered to be chopped off himself.

My legs felt weak as I staggered forward, clutching that half-hand to my chest.

"Where's Shawn? Don't think you can shield him just because you're around! Who do you think you are?" Zach's voice boomed with anger.

I ignored him, but he didn't let it go. He stepped closer and grabbed my arm. He was strong, yanking me so hard that I crashed into the cold, hard wall.

A wave of pain hit me, making me break out in a cold sweat. The pain in my lower abdomen felt unbearable, but I tightened my grip on that half-hand.

"He's never coming back," I said icily.

Zach's face went grim. He shoved me, causing Shawn's hand to slip from my grip and hit the ground.

"Celia Swain, are you trying to stand up to me?" He blocked my path, his voice cold. "You need to get Shawn here to apologize to Sue, got it?

"Just think about it. They can reattach Shawn's severed hand if they treat it in time. But if he doesn't apologize and misses the surgery window, he could end up disabled for life!"

An overwhelming sense of absurdity washed over me. Zach looked so pathetic at that moment. I couldn't help but pursed my lips, and a small laugh escaped.

That was just absurd. He was the one who made Shawn, his own son, a cripple.

"Let it go," Sue finally said, gently pulling on Zach's wrist. "Zach, it's just a few blisters from a burn. It's not a big deal. We shouldn't ruin Shawn's future out of anger."

Her compassion stoked the fire of Zach's anger.

His face grew stormier, and he yelled, "Where the hell is Shawn? Get him over here!"

"I told you," I said flatly. "He's not coming back."

"You!"

I held his gaze, speaking slowly and clearly, "He's dead."