Dorothea frowned, instantly on edge.
“Why are you in my room? Aren’t you supposed to be staying in the master bedroom?”
Kim gave a small smile, her tone deliberately gentle.
“I heard you were getting discharged today, so I came to wait for you. About what happened last time, I was too emotional. I wanted to apologize to you.”
She paused, then added, “You can’t be a mother, so you probably don’t understand how scared to death I was…”
Her words were suddenly cut off by a kid’s laughter coming from inside the room.
Dorothea pushed past her and froze at the sight that shattered her completely.
The guest room was a mess. All her belongings had been dragged out and scattered everywhere.
Chrisette sat on the bed, surrounded by pages. It was Dorothea’s handwritten sheet music from the past three years.
One by one, the little girl tore the pages apart, crumpled them into balls, and tossed them to the small dog crouching nearby.
The dog wagged its tail excitedly and ran over to grab the paper balls in its mouth.
“Chrisette! What are you doing?!”
Dorothea rushed forward, her voice shaking with anger.
Chrisette looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes. “Oh, you’re back, Auntie Thea! Mommy said I could play in your room. These scrap papers are so fun! Even the dog likes them.”
A sharp ringing filled Dorothea’s ears, and her mind went blank.
The sheet music she had worked so hard on, hiding it from Jimmy, pouring everything into it, had become nothing more than trash in the eyes of a three-year-old.
She had carefully saved every page, planning to organize them over the next few days and send them to an orchestra overseas for a chance at an audition.
That was her way back. After the divorce, it was her only shot at returning to a classical orchestra and stepping back onto the stage as a pianist.
Dorothea took a slow breath. She reminded herself that this was just a three-year-old child.
Forcing down her anger, she said, “Chrisette, give me the rest of those papers, and I’ll forgive you for what you did.”
A flash of stubbornness crossed Chrisette’s face. “No! Mommy said this room is mine today!”
She turned and shouted, “Mommy! Auntie Thea is trying to kick me out! You have to help me!”
Kim stepped forward when she heard that, a faint, mocking smile tugging at her lips.
“Come on, Dorothea, it’s not a big deal. Chrisette likes your useless sheet music. Just let her play with them. Why are you being so petty?”
The anger surged through Dorothea.
She couldn’t hold it back anymore. She pushed past Kim and reached for the sheets in Chrisette’s hands.
In the next second, the kid’s foot slipped, and she tumbled off the bed.
Her scream rang out, followed by loud, panicked crying that echoed through the entire villa.
Kim’s expression changed instantly. She shoved Dorothea aside and rushed over, pulling Chrisette into her arms.
“Chrisette! Are you okay? Don’t scare me, baby!”
Dorothea’s head slammed hard against the bedframe. Blood from the back of her head trickled down her neck.
Hearing the commotion, Jimmy came down from the upstairs study and immediately checked on Chrisette in Kim’s arms.
Clutching her swollen forehead, Chrisette sobbed, “Daddy, it hurts! It hurts so much!”
Meanwhile, Kim burst into tears. “I know. I know I’m just a nobody compared to you, Dorothea. I’m not as capable. I can’t play piano like you. But Chrisette just wanted to look at your music, and you… you actually laid hands on her!”
Jimmy turned to Dorothea, his voice cold and sharp.
“So over a few sheet music you composed, you’d hurt a three-year-old? Is that how much you hate Kim and her child?”
Dorothea felt like something inside her had shattered.
So he had always known what those scores meant to her and still let someone else purposely destroy them.
She lifted her gaze, staring straight at him. “Jimmy, I didn’t—”
He cut her off, his expression dark.
“Dorothea, did you forget what you promised me? When you married me, you agreed to leave your past behind and just be a dutiful wife.”
That old piano, barely more than junk at this point, was the only thing he had ever allowed her to keep.
“Stuff like this shouldn’t exist in the first place. I’ll give you anything else but not this.”
As soon as he finished speaking, two bodyguards rushed in and dragged her out of the room.
Then they gathered everything: her handwritten compositions, her piano certificates, her music books, and scores. Then, they dumped it all into a large metal barrel in the backyard.
Jimmy personally lit a torch and tossed it in.
The flames shot up instantly, thick smoke billowing into the air.
Dorothea collapsed into hysteria.
“No!”
