He knelt on the ground, his palms marked with the crescents of his own nails.
I knew—from the moment his parents died.
Our love had curdled into nothing but endless hatred.
A war that would only end when one of us stopped breathing.
I kept my head bowed as Mason walked past me, Rebecca cradled in his arms.
Clatter.
A small box landed at my feet.
Allergy medication.
I'd been born with hypersensitive skin—my list of triggers could fill a medical textbook. When Mason first learned about it, he'd started carrying these pills everywhere.
I picked up the box, popped it open, and placed a white tablet on my tongue.
Bitterness flooded my mouth instantly.
Just like my wretched life.
The red welts on my skin began to fade. I struggled to my feet and made my way to the kitchen.
Once the congee was ready, I carried it up to the second floor. I was about to enter when I heard voices drifting through the door—low, intimate.
"Mason, why do you keep that woman around? The one who killed your whole family?" Rebecca's voice dripped with false concern. "Don't tell me you still have feelings for her."
I heard the soft pop of a button being undone.
"I keep her close for a reason." Mason's voice was flat, unreadable. "To torment her. Day and night. So she can never live, never die—only remember the debt her family owes me. Forever."
A sharp pain lanced through my chest.
My grip on the door handle tightened until my knuckles went white.
I know.
This hatred will only end when I'm dead.
Good thing I'll be gone soon.
That night, I was heading back to my room when a sound split the sky.
Fireworks.
Brilliant cascades of light bloomed across the darkness. I stood there, transfixed by the fleeting glow.
Then a voice slithered up behind me—familiar and razor-edged.
"Beautiful, aren't they? The fireworks made from your family's ashes?"
I spun around.
Rebecca's eyes gleamed with triumph.
My pupils contracted. "What did you just say?"
She sauntered closer, lifting one manicured finger toward the bursting colors overhead.
"A monk told me your family's vengeful spirits were haunting my baby. That's why I've been so unwell." She smiled, serene as a saint. "He said the only way to protect my child was to deal with your family properly."
She paused, savoring the moment.
"So I had your parents' ashes—and your baby's—made into fireworks. To bless my child." Her smile widened. "And to make sure their souls never find peace. Not in this life. Not in the next."
I lurched forward, a scream tearing from my throat.
"Why? Why would you do this to them? My parents—whatever their sins—they helped you once! Why couldn't you let them rest in death? Why scatter their bones to the wind?"
My hand hadn't even touched her when she crumpled backward.
The next second, a crushing force slammed into me.
Mason caught Rebecca in his arms, his gaze slicing into me like a blade.
"Chloe." His voice was ice. "I warned you. Touch her again, and I will end you."
I stared at him—at the hatred carved into every line of his face—and something inside me finally shattered.
I fell to my knees before him.
"Mason." My voice cracked. "I'll do anything you want. Anything. Just—please—let my family keep one shred of dignity. That's all I'm asking."
He went still.
Rebecca immediately wound her arm through his.
"Mason, when I was hospitalized for the baby, I visited the chapel. The monk said vengeful spirits were latched onto us—that the only way to protect our child was to grind their bones to dust and scatter them so they'd never reincarnate." She pressed closer to him. "That's why I had her family's ashes made into fireworks."
I bowed my head to the floor. Once. Twice. Again and again, until my forehead burned.
"Mason. Every sin is mine. Mine. They're already dead—let the debt die with them." My voice broke into a sob. "I'll bear all your hatred. Every last drop. Just... please... leave their remains in peace?"
