Chapter 9

She smacked Irene's hand away with a sharp flick. "Irene!" Chloe's ears were ringing, her vision blurred. The only things she could make out were Irene's panicked face and Hank rushing toward them. "Chloe, how can you be so heartless?" Hank's eyes were full of disgust, making Chloe's heart sink hard. No, it's not like that! Irene tried to hurt her baby, she only acted to protect her child! "Irene, can you stand? Let me carry you to your room." Chloe could only watch as Hank carefully picked Irene up and carried her upstairs. It felt like someone had plunged her into a pit of ice. Once Hank was safely behind a closed door and couldn't hear them anymore, Jennifer stepped over and helped Chloe up. "Chloe, I know you've had it rough these years, but you know how fragile Irene is. As her sister, just cut her some slack, okay? Don't keep fighting with her over Hank." Jennifer's voice was suddenly soft, completely different from how harsh she had been moments ago. Chloe's eyes were red as she turned her head, staring straight at her. "If I pity her, who's going to pity me?" Then she yanked her arm free, lifted her head, and walked back toward her own room step by step. Richard narrowed his eyes as he watched her leave, a dangerous glint flashing across his face. "Should've finished this earlier…" Jennifer lightly pressed his hand down, a small smile tugging at her lips. "At least things went our way. Once that baby's born, our daughter will officially become Mrs. Collins." Chloe didn't hear any of this. Her room still looked the same, familiar yet distant. The family portraits placed right where they could be seen the easiest now just made her nauseous. Her trembling hands reached for the drawer by her bed. Inside was a black brocade box, and when she opened it, old photos, yellowed with time, waited inside. She gently ran her slender fingers over one of them—the picture of a little girl, maybe around four or five, clinging tightly to a woman's sleeve. That woman was beautiful, her eyes filled with overflowing warmth and love. Chloe started sobbing quietly, but soon her silent tears turned into full-blown cries as she pressed the photo to her chest. "Mom… life's been so hard. Do you even know? I miss you so much." She didn't remember when she fell asleep. When she woke up, she was still on the floor, in yesterday's clothes, with photos scattered all around her. But now… they were all shredded, like someone had taken scissors to every single one—nothing left in one piece. Chloe stared, stunned. Her hands scrambled to gather every scrap like she could fix what had been torn apart. She didn't even care to figure out who did it. She just wanted to put them back together. "Glue! I need glue!" she muttered, dragging herself to her feet and tearing through the room in a frenzy. Why isn't there any? No—please no! Don't take this from me too! This is all I have left! She flung the door open and started searching the hallway like a madwoman, looking for anything that could help. "What are you looking for?" Hank came down the stairs, clearly annoyed by the noise. Chloe spun around like she saw a lifeline. Eyes red, she looked at him and said, voice trembling, "Glue—I need glue. Help me find some glue." He frowned. "What's the glue for?" "The photos… they're all gone." Hank's eyes narrowed, and his voice turned ice-cold: "What photos?" Chloe didn't pick up on the shift in his tone. She kept rummaging through drawers. "I just need the glue…" "I said, what photos?!" Hank roared, grabbing her arm and yanking her back. Startled, Chloe blinked, her mind clearing a little. She tried to shove him away. "It's none of your business." "None of my business? Chloe, you've gotta be kidding me! Do something messed up, and now you don't even wanna own it?!"