Dad's face froze when he saw me. The anger twisted in his expression faltered, and he quickly lowered the gun.
Mom pulled me tightly into her arms, her whole body trembling.
She must be terrified, I thought.
I wrapped my arms around her, copying the way she usually comforted me, patting her back clumsily.
"Mom, don't be scared. Justin is here."
But her trembling only grew worse. She looked up at Dad, eyes full of despair, and held out a divorce agreement.
"Steven, let's divorce. Justin will stay with me."
Dad didn't even hesitate. He tore the papers into shreds and shoved them into the trash.
"We agreed on the day we married—between us, there will never be divorce. Only death."
His voice softened a little as he continued, almost weary.
"This was my fault. I shouldn't have let Bella move in next door without warning you—it provoked you. So you don't need to apologize to her. I'll find a way to atone for you."
Without another glance at us, Dad turned and left.
Watching his back as he walked away, I felt something shift in our family. Something broken that couldn't be put back together.
I thought he wouldn't return for a long time, the way it always was.
But the very next day, when Mom picked me up from school, Dad was already home.
The woman from yesterday—Bella—stood in the living room, directing bodyguards as they hauled our furniture out piece by piece. In its place, pink furnishings—colors that Mom hated—were carried in.
When Dad saw us, he stubbed out his cigarette and walked over. His voice carried exhaustion.
"Gianna, Bella wants to stay here for postpartum recovery. She doesn't like the old furniture, so we're replacing it. We've used this set long enough anyway—it's time for new ones. I know you don't like her, so I've bought tickets for you and Justin. Spend the month traveling abroad."
But this was our home! Why should Mom and I leave just because of an outsider?
Bella noticed us too. She walked straight up to me and pinched my cheek hard.
"You little brat. So the sickly weakling knows how to tattle, huh? I was planning to make you serve your baby brother once he was born, but instead you ran to your mother first. You really have a big mouth."
She leaned closer, voice sharp with malice. "Women like me don't like tattletales. When your dad and I have another child, not a single cent of Pearson inheritance will go to you."
Her perfume was thick and suffocating, making my chest tighten and my breath hitch.
Mom instantly pulled me into her arms.
"Justin is having an asthma attack! Quick, get his medicine!"
One of the bodyguards hurried to fetch it, but just as he came downstairs, Bella blocked his path. She took the inhaler and dumped everything into the trash.
"I'm a doctor," she said coldly. "Justin doesn't have asthma, just a little trouble breathing. He'll get over it without medicine."
My throat burned like a fist was clamped around it. I struggled harder to breathe.
Bella's eyes glinted with cruel satisfaction.
"Do you know why you're so weak, Justin? Why you keep getting sick? Because while your mom was pregnant with you, she slept around with countless men and caught something dirty. She passed her disease on to you."
Her smile twisted venomously. “Your mother is a whore who’s been with thousands. That makes you just as filthy. Not like me—I’m clean because I respect myself.”
But I knew the truth. Mom had only gotten sick because she sacrificed herself to save Dad. It had nothing to do with other men.
Had Dad forgotten that?
He sat on the sofa, head bent over work documents, silent. As if he hadn't heard a word.
Finally, Mom snapped. She kicked Bella hard, sending her stumbling aside, then snatched the medicine out of the trash. She pressed it to my nose with shaking hands.
