I reached the hospital just as the first gray light of dawn crept across the sky. The operating room lights had long since gone dark.
My mother-in-law lay beneath a stark white sheet, the wound on her chest not even sutured shut. The cold seeped through the fabric when I touched her, snuffing out my last shred of hope.
She'd been left there alone in a corner. Not a single person had come to check on her. And Clay hadn't shown his face once.
I swallowed the pain in my chest and began making arrangements, but my phone kept buzzing with messages from Evangeline. Every single one was a photo or video of her and Clay together.
Him holding her hand at the mall. Buying her expensive jewelry. Taking her to upscale restaurants. In every shot, his smile was soft and warm, a completely different man from the one who screamed at me like I was nothing.
The caption she'd attached was even worse: "Dr. Farley says he's going to take good care of me from now on. The people who dragged him down aren't worth a second glance."
I stared at those images until my fingertips turned white from gripping the phone. I didn't reply. I just threw myself into preparing the funeral.
Three days passed in a blur. The memorial was set up on an open lot near the hospital. White silk, black gauze, the low drone of mourning music. Hardly any guests. Cold and quiet.
A few steps away, a high-end restaurant blazed with lights and color. Drums and music poured from its doors. It was the birthday banquet Clay had organized for his "most beloved mother."
A red silk arch stood directly across from the memorial hall, gold lettering gleaming in shameless celebration: Wishing Mrs. Farley boundless fortune and everlasting health. Well-dressed guests streamed past with gifts in hand, laughing and chatting. Not one of them noticed the mourning next door. Not one of them heard the funeral music, as if that single stretch of pavement separated two entirely different worlds.
I had just finished lighting incense before my mother-in-law's memorial tablet when I saw Evangeline strolling over on Clay's arm. She wore an elegant gown, her makeup done up heavy and flawless. The moment she spotted me, her lips curled into a look of practiced sympathy, though her voice carried loud enough for every guest nearby to hear.
"Dorothy, I'm so sorry. I had no idea your family was going through something like this. If I'd known sooner, I would've asked Dr. Farley to move the banquet somewhere else. This is just so... unfortunate."
Clay's arm was wrapped around her waist. His expression darkened the instant his gaze swept over the memorial hall, disgust plain on his face. "Dorothy, you did this on purpose, didn't you? Setting up your mother's memorial right here just to ruin my mom's birthday? What the hell is wrong with you?"
I looked at him standing there, so self-righteous, so sure of himself, and almost laughed. I raised my hand and pointed toward the birthday arch across the way.
"Clay, are you blind, or just heartless? This is your own mother's memorial."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Clay's voice cracked like a whip, fury blazing behind his eyes. "My mom is fine. There's no way she's gone. You just can't stand to see me happy, so you're using your dead mother to curse mine. You're sick, Dorothy. You're truly sick."
That was when Audrey Farley came charging over in a glittering party dress, jabbing her finger in my face.
"Have you no shame, Dorothy? My brother finally does something nice for our mom, and you park your bargain-bin dead mother's memorial right next door just to spite us?"
"My mom cares about good fortune more than anything, and you pull this? Bringing death to her doorstep? You just want to make sure the Farley family never has a moment's peace!"
The guests had gathered around by now, pointing at me and the memorial, their whispers sharp enough to cut.
"So that's Dr. Farley's mother-in-law? Can't even rest in peace without stirring up trouble."
"Exactly. Wasn't it enough to leech off the Farleys while she was alive? Now she's dead and still bringing bad luck to their party. No class whatsoever."
"Dr. Farley really drew the short straw, marrying into that family. Nothing but trashy, spiteful people."
"Miss Fox is so much better. Sweet, considerate. A hundred times the woman Dorothy is. Dr. Farley should be with her."
Evangeline nestled into Clay's chest, her eyes glistening with carefully manufactured tears, her voice a fragile whisper. "Don't be upset, Dr. Farley. Dorothy's just heartbroken over losing her mom. She's not thinking straight. I don't blame her."
That little performance only made Clay more protective. He whipped around to glare at me, his tone cold as ice. "Dorothy, out of respect for Evangeline's kind heart, I won't hold this against you. But you need to move this memorial. Now. Get it out of here before it ruins my mother's birthday."
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a check, and flung it at my feet. "There's five hundred thousand dollars. Enough to give your mother a proper funeral. Take the money and go. Don't let me see your face again."
The check drifted to the ground and landed in front of my mother-in-law's memorial tablet. I stared at that flimsy slip of paper, then looked up at the man standing before me, a man I no longer recognized.
Slowly, I bent down. Picked up the check. Tore it to shreds. And let the pieces scatter in front of him.
"Clay." Each word fell from my lips like a blade, my voice steady and laced with bone-deep cold. "Read the name on that tablet. It says Nancy Farley. Your mother. The woman who gave birth to you and raised you. The birthday banquet you threw for her? Her funeral is right next door. The mother you keep calling your 'most beloved'? She's lying in there. She's been cold for three days."
The color drained from Clay's face in an instant, as if something had struck him square between the eyes. He stood frozen, unable to move.
