Chapter 7

Gemma returned to the villa, utterly drained of strength. She leaned heavily against the doorframe, gasping for breath before summoning the energy to drag herself into the bedroom. In just a few short steps, her vision blurred again and again. Her knees buckled, and she nearly collapsed. She spent the entire day in her room, sorting through everything connected to Theodore. Photographs, gifts, diaries—anything that held a memory. She piled them all in the yard. When she struck the match, her hands trembled violently. The lighter slipped from her grip three times before the flame finally caught. Amid the firelight, she caught sight of their photo taken in Maldovia. In it, Theodore stood behind her, arms wrapped around her. His chin rested on her shoulder, his smile warm and adoring. "When we're old, we'll pull these out to show our grandkids." Gemma suddenly laughed, but the laughter dissolved into tears that fell into the fire. On the final day of her countdown, she forced herself to stop by a funeral supply store. She bought her parents' favorite pastries, along with white lilies and a memorial candle. The road to the cemetery stretched endlessly before her. Every few steps, she had to stop and rest, her vision swimming with black spots. A distance of about one mile took her three hours to cover. "Mom… Dad…" She clung to the headstone, gasping as she slowly pulled herself up. "Just wait a little longer… I'll be with you soon…" As she finally reached the halfway point of the mountain, her legs gave way, and she collapsed to her knees. She couldn't believe what she was seeing— Matilda had brought several workers to dig up her parents' graves. The headstones had been toppled, the burial mounds torn open, and she was holding her parents' urns in her hands. "What are you doing?" Gemma lunged forward, desperate to snatch them back. Matilda sidestepped with ease, a smug grin curling across her face as she swung the urns in her hands. "Your apology yesterday didn't cut it. Since Theodore won't lay a hand on you, your parents can take your place." Gemma dropped to her knees with a thud, her forehead striking the jagged rocks. "I'll apologize again. I'm sorry—it's all my fault. Please… I'm begging you… Give me back the ashes." Blood trickled from her brow into her eyes. She kept groveling, slamming her forehead against the ground, her voice breaking. "I'm begging you… please…" "Fine." Matilda suddenly smiled. "I'll give them back." Her mouth twisted into a cruel smile. Under Gemma's horrified gaze, she slowly tilted the urns. "No!" Gemma screamed in anguish. She lunged, but her hands closed around nothing but empty air. She could only watch, powerless, as her parents' ashes fell into a dog's bowl. The wolfhound wagged its tail, greedily lapping them up. In that instant, her world came crashing down. She struck Matilda with a slap, fueled by every ounce of strength she had. Matilda staggered and fell, yet her lips twisted into a triumphant smile. Sure enough, Theodore came charging forward, shoving Gemma away with brutal force. "Gemma!" His roar echoed through the cemetery. "You've got a death wish!" Gemma's skull slammed against a broken headstone. Blood gushed instantly from the wound. She ignored the pain, clutching the small handful of ashes she'd managed to save. Her voice was raw with hysteria. "I do! I wish I could kill her! You have no idea what she did! She dug up my parents' graves and... fed their ashes to a dog!" He bent down, scooping Matilda into his arms, his gaze colder than the winter rain. "Good job." He lowered his head to wipe the blood from Matilda's lip. "Even if Tilly hadn't done it, I would have. Your dad should have known this day would come when he killed mine." Gemma sat slumped in the mud, watching as Theodore carried Matilda away. His coat shielded her from the rain, just as tenderly as he'd once held an umbrella over Gemma. The icy rain lashed her face, mingling with the heat of her tears. Gemma lowered her gaze to the meager ashes cradled in her palm—and suddenly laughed. The laughter broke into a cough, then a spray of blood. Another gush followed. Then another. The crimson torrent splashed across the stone, staining half of it red. Her vision blurred, but she stubbornly traced her fingers over her parents' names etched into the stone. "Dad… Mom…" Her voice was barely a whisper. "Wait a little longer… I… am coming soon…"