Chapter 1 His Daughter Was Cremated

My daughter's kidneys were failing. Before her surgery, she shared a simple, heartfelt wishshe longed to spend her birthday with her father at the amusement parkjust the two of them.

I had knelt at Wyatt Sinclair's feet, beseeching him to grant her this humble yearning. And he had agreed.

Yet, on the cold embrace of her birthday, my daughter stood shivering at the amusement park gates, her delicate frame enduring the bitter wind, waiting for the man she called "Dad." She waitedand waited. By the time her fragile body gave out, blood bubbling from her lips just before she collapsed into an unconscious heap, he was still nowhere to be seen.

The doctors' efforts were all in vain. Her condition deteriorated under their desperate hands, and, she slipped away.

As her vision blurred in her final moments, her cheeks wet with tears, she turned her gaze to me, asking, "Mommy, why does Daddy love Isabella's daughter more than me? Is it because I wasn't good enough?"

Grief consumed her as she passed, unable to reconcile her father's indifference with her own desperate longing to be cherished by the man she idolized.

From her small, lifeless hand, her phone fell, the dim screen playing a video.

The man she had called Dad' had not forgotten about birthdays. He had, in fact, reserved the largest amusement park in the city for Isabella's daughter.

*****

Ophelia Thompson stood alone at her daughter's cremation for the final farewell.

Wrapped in a bulky black coat, she still looked fragile and thin.

She cried her eyes out, tears carving paths down her red, swollen face, her throat raw with sorrow.

From her pocket, she pulled out a pair of hairpins. She leaned over and gently tucked them into the girl's hair.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart. I love you forever."

Leaning down, she pressed her lips to her cold forehead, the touch of death sparking fresh agony.

It was time.

A male staff member stepped up and reminded her kindly, "Condolences! Is her father still not here?"

"He will never come." A hint of coldness flashed across Ophelia's eyes.

"Would you like to wait a little longer?"

He was a father himself. Not being able to see his own daughter one last time would surely be a lifelong regret.

A cold laugh escaped Ophelia, biting against the heavy air. "Wait? Yesterday, my daughter stood outside in sub-zero temperatures, waiting for him. She waited until her lips were stained red with her own blood and fainted. And where was he? He was hosting his beloved's child's birthday celebration, shutting down Disneyland for someone else's daughter."

The man was lost for words.

He couldn't believe there was such an irresponsible father in the world..

Ophelia stroked her daughter's lifeless face one last time, her fingers desperate to capture what little warmth remained. Her voice broke as she muttered, "Do it now. Do not delay my daughter's journey one moment longer."

If love could speak the girl into a new life, Ophelia prayed her daughter would be born into a home where kindness thrived, where her father would walk through fire for her instead of turning his back.

*****

Outside, winter's darkness fell heavy, swallowing whole the embers of the day.

Ophelia sat in the back of a cab, the urn holding her daughter's remains clenched tightly in her arms.

She stared out the window, her empty eyes filled with sorrow.

Traffic crawled near Disneyland.

The cab slowly came to a stop.

On the massive electronic billboard ahead, news footage played brightly.

"Sinclair Group's president celebrates his daughter's birthdayrents out the entire Disneyland for a private fireworks display!"

"Boom!"

"Boom!"

"Boom!"

Fireworks painted the sky in bursts of color. Above the shimmering blossoms, clear words hung in the night sky: "Happy Birthday, Cindy Sweetie!"

Under the dazzling fireworks, Cynthia wore the custom-made Elsa princess dress that Mia had always dreamed of. With a beaming face, she held Isabella's hand on one side and Wyatt's on the other.

As the second round of fireworks soared into the sky and burst into brilliant blooms,

Wyatt and Isabella leaned over at the same time.

One on the left, the other on the rightthey kissed Cynthia's cheeks, eyes full of doting love.

The moment froze, perfect and timeless.

"Seeing is believingMr. Sinclair really dotes on his daughter."

"This is what they call love me, love my dog".

Envious whispers filled the air.

But Ophelia's eyes burned with pain. Her heart ached as if it had been pierced by a knife. She wrapped her daughter's urn tightly in her down jacket.

Shielding it with her hand, she whispered painfully, "Sweetheart, don't look."

She was afraid her daughter would be hurt.

*****

At 10 p.m., Ophelia finally returned to Royal Mansion, where she and Wyatt lived.

With heavy steps, she trudged upstairs and entered her daughter's room.

After packing away her daughter's belongings, she held the urn and sat numbly on her daughter's small bed all night.

Early the next morning, Ophelia went downstairs and ran straight into a tall, handsome figure.

It was Wyatt.

He didn't look at her, his expression as cold and aloof as ever. Without wasting words, he asked bluntly, "Where's Mia?"

"Hah."

Ophelia let out a bitter, mocking laugh.

Three days after their daughter's death, he finally remembered Mia.

Wyatt frowned slightly, shooting her a displeased glance.

He wondered, 'Is she throwing a tantrum because I stood Mia up the day before yesterday?'

He chose not to argue.

Suppressing his irritation, he said sternly, "I'm here to take Mia to the amusement park."

The mention of the amusement park sent a sharp pang through Ophelia's heart.

She would never forget the scene she witnessed when she rushed into the amusement park after getting a call from the staff.

Her precious child had collapsed in a pool of blood, blood staining the girl's mouth, with no sign of Wyatt anywhere.

At that moment, Ophelia realized

The phone call earlier that day, on which Mia told her, "Mom, Dad arrived on time. We're having so much fun together. Don't worry," was a lie.

Her darling child had told her first-ever lie just because she longed to spend time alone with her father,

She had trusted that her father wouldn't break his promisethat if he said he'd come, he would.

And so, the little one stood waiting foolishly in the bitter cold, from morning till night.

Tears welled up in Ophelia's eyes.

Eyes bloodshot, she stared at Wyatt's impatient expression, her voice icy and sharp.

"Take Mia? She's dead! Where exactly are you planning to take her? The underworld, huh?"

"Ophelia Thompson, how dare you!"

Wyatt was pissed off.

He just broke one promise.

What was the big deal?

How could she lose her mind to the point of cursing their daughter to death?

She was Mia's motherhow could those words even leave her mouth?

Wyatt looked at Ophelia as though she were a raving lunatic.

"You're utterly impossible!"

He couldn't be bothered to entertain her madness. After shooting her a cold, warning glance, he headed upstairs to fetch Mia himself.

But after just a few steps, his phone rang.

A special ringtone made him stop immediately. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and answered in an instant.

A sweet, cooing voice echoed through the quiet living room.

"Daddy, I miss you. Can you come play with me?"

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