On New Year's Eve, the crowd tore my daughter from my grasp.
She vanished into the sea of people, and my wife, Bonnie Acevedo, collapsed on the spot. To find my little girl and salvage what remained of my broken family, I abandoned my career and drained every cent of my savings. I spared no expense, chasing every whisper of a lead.
But news never came.
For three agonizing years, silence reigned. Guilt crushed my spirit; longing snapped my spine. The tragedy drove a wedge between Bonnie and me, pushing us miles apart even when we stood in the same room.
Finally, consumed by despair, I decided to wash away the sins of this lifetime with death.
I stood on the edge of the bridge and let gravity take me. But as I plummeted past the walkway, time seemed to freeze. A sight seared itself into my retinas, more shocking than the impact awaiting me below.
I saw Bonnie and her first love, Brandon Pruitt.
They were walking along the riverbank. And between them, holding their hands, was my daughter.
——
My body hit the water. By the time the New Year's bell tolled, my cold, stiff corpse drifted downstream with the current. Meanwhile, on the bank, the very people I had sacrificed my life to find were lighting fireworks, celebrating a reunion I was never meant to witness.
The biting wind flushed Brandon's cheeks.
Bonnie immediately unwound her scarf and draped it around him, pulling him into her embrace. She rubbed his hands between hers to warm them, a soft smile on her lips.
"The fireworks are breathtaking this year," she murmured. "I wish I could freeze this moment forever."
Brandon lowered his head, feigning shyness. A moment later, he squeezed her hand.
"Like a dream," he whispered. "Bonnie, I never expected we could truly be together again. And I didn't expect you to sacrifice so much for me."
He paused, his voice taking on a tremble. "I didn't mean to hide Mandy back then. I just wanted to scare Justin a little. I was jealous. Jealous that he got to be with you, jealous that you two had such a lovely daughter."
Pain flashed across Bonnie's face. She kissed his forehead, her voice firm.
"Don't say that. As long as I'm here, no one will ever bully you again," she vowed. "I may not be able to give you the official status you deserve yet, but I will give you a happy home. From now on, Mandy is your daughter. No one can separate us."
Mandy seized the opportunity to throw herself into Brandon's arms. She nuzzled against him, whining sweetly that she wanted to stay with him forever.
A family of three. Happy. Harmonious.
I, a lonely ghost, could only stand aside and watch, my spirit weeping silent tears.
Three years ago, it happened on this very riverbank.
A phone call from Bonnie had distracted me, and in that split second, the crowd surged, separating me from Mandy. Later, surveillance footage showed the last person to make contact with her was Bonnie's "white moonlight"—Brandon Pruitt.
I had tried to find him. I wanted to grab him by the collar and demand the truth. But time and again, Bonnie blocked my path.
No matter how I knelt, no matter how I begged, she would only glare at me, her face twisted in righteous anger.
"I did like Brandon once, but that's ancient history," she would snap. "You can't drag an innocent man into this just to evade your own responsibility. Justin, the misery you've caused is enough. Don't bully a pitiful man to make yourself feel better."
Her accusations piled onto my guilt like stones.
Desperate to find Mandy, I quit my job. I gave up my dreams. I spent my days rushing down dead-end roads. In three years, I traveled across half the country. I knelt until my knees bled at over a hundred temples, praying for a miracle.
Each time I left with hope; each time I returned with nothing but ash in my mouth.
The ridicule of neighbors and the condemnation of relatives swallowed me whole. My parents' accusations left me nowhere to hide. Night after night, I punished my own body. I cried until my throat was raw, repenting for a mistake that wasn't mine.
In the end, the burden became too heavy. I chose death to end the pain.
But even as the icy river water filled my lungs, I couldn't forget that night three years ago. And I couldn't forgive the incompetent fool I had been.
