Savina’s son was dead, and she herself fell unconscious soon after.
When she finally woke up, the first thing she did was to cancel her son’s civil registration.
At the office, the staff member asked gently, “And the child’s father?”
“He doesn’t have one,” she replied coldly.
A man like Myron didn’t deserve to be called a father.
The staff member hesitated for a moment, then said nothing more. With a quiet snip, he cut the child’s ID card in half and handed the pieces back to her.
After completing the process, Savina went straight to have her son’s ashes cremated. Then, she returned to the hospital, cradling the small urn in her arms.
The moment she stepped through the door, Myron’s furious voice lashed at her like a whip.
“Savina! Weren’t you supposed to be sick? What are you doing running around outside?”
A bitter laugh escaped her lips.
Their child was dead. She’d been handling his funeral arrangements, and yet in his eyes, she was just “running around.”
She was too tired to argue. Without saying a word, she held the urn tighter and walked past him.
Something in her empty gaze made Myron’s chest tighten with discomfort.
“What are you doing carrying that cursed urn around? Throw it out! Now!”
As he spoke, he reached out to grab it from her arms.
But in that instant, she seemed to change completely. Her eyes burned red as she snapped, “If you dare touch this urn, I swear, Myron, I’ll fight you to the death!”
Myron froze. The look in her eyes made his heart skip a beat. After a long pause, he finally lowered his arm.
‘Forget it,’ he thought. ‘She must still be angry that I sent her to the lab the other day. She’s just making a fuss. She’ll calm down in a few days.’
With that, he straightened up and said evenly, “You actually did well in the lab this time. Helene has been reinstated at the hospital, and they’ve even promoted her to department head. It’s all thanks to your contribution.”
“I’m hosting a celebration dinner for her tomorrow night at home,” he continued. “You’re the lady of the house. Remember to come back and make the arrangements.”
From beginning to end, Savina didn’t utter a single word.
Noticing that, Myron frowned slightly. “Alright, I get it. You’re upset. Once in a while, that’s fine—it’s cute. But if you keep showing me that face, it’ll stop being charming and start being annoying.”
“After Helene’s promotion dinner, we’ll go pick up our son together, alright?” he promised.
Little did he know, Savina’s heart bled at his words.
Their son could never be “picked up” again.
Alonzo was gone—dead at the very moment his father chose to protect Helene instead of him.
Savina bit down her grief, forcing out a steady voice. “Alright. I’ll make sure everything is ready.”
Hearing her agree, Myron let out a small sigh of relief. ‘She’s still the same as before,’ he thought.
Moments after he left, Savina’s phone buzzed. Her bank account had just received a transfer—two million dollars.
She immediately called the funeral home.
“Hello, I’d like to book the grandest funeral in the entire country,” she said calmly. “Tomorrow at ten in the morning. Arrange a hundred funeral cars to circle the Lestranges villa a hundred times.”
“I want the entire Maryland to know—the Lestranges aren't hosting a celebration tomorrow. They’re hosting a funeral.”
“Oh, and one more thing,” she added, her tone turning icy. “Prepare the most spectacular fireworks you can. I want the words ‘A life for a life’ blazing across the sky.”
When she hung up, a cold smile curved her lips.
Her son was dead.
How could Myron and Helene possibly deserve peaceful days ahead?
After making all the arrangements, Savina went home with the urn in her arms.
That afternoon, she anonymously purchased the entire laboratory and retrieved all its surveillance footage.
The videos showed everything—the abuse she and her son had suffered. All the evidence, every bit of it.
She placed her son’s death certificate, the flash drive containing the footage, and all of Helene’s crimes into a safe.
Then, Savina wrote one final message on it.
[Myron, from this life onward, we shall never meet again.]
At midnight, the car she had booked arrived.
She picked up her son’s urn, grabbed her luggage, and walked out of the Lestranges’ villa for the last time.
From that night on, she swore—she would never set foot in that place again!
