When Margot opened her eyes again, night had already fallen.
She glanced around the empty hospital room, a cold smile reaching her eyes.
A nurse entered, holding her medical report. She briefly explained Margot’s condition and informed her to settle the bill and prepare for discharge the next day.
As Margot flipped through her medical records, the phone on the bedside table buzzed incessantly.
The messages were from Maisie.
Maisie had sent dozens of photos, each one flaunting her happiness.
In the images, Joey carried Maisie on his back, walking her home, while Charles, wearing an apron, cooked for her.
The two men surrounded Maisie, their faces brimming with affection.
Piled at their feet were heaps of extravagant gifts.
[Gigi] Maisie wrote smugly.
[Charles and Joey spoil me so much. I must be the happiest little girl in the world!]
Margot glanced at the messages but didn’t reply to a single one.
The next morning, after a night of rest, she completed her discharge procedures and returned home.
As soon as she stepped inside, she saw Charles, Joey, and Maisie gathered on the sofa, watching a movie together.
The two men flanked Maisie protectively. Charles fed her pieces of fruit, while Joey handed her a drink.
The bloodstains that had once marked the floor were gone, thoroughly cleaned away. No one seemed to care.
Margot averted her gaze and silently retreated to her room.
She pulled out a cardboard box and began packing. Piece by piece, she filled the box with belongings until it was overflowing.
Once it was full, she carried the box and walked out.
Not long after, the blaze outside caught Joey and Charles’s attention.
Noticing something was amiss, they both rose from their seats and stepped outside, only to see Margot standing before a large fire pit, throwing items into the roaring flames.
Their hearts sank.
“What are you doing, Gigi?” Joey demanded, his voice tight with alarm.
Margot didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she picked up a veil from the box and held it up, her gaze fixed on Joey.
“Joey, you gave me this when you were seven,” she began, her voice steady but cold.
“We were playing house, and you wouldn’t let anyone else be my groom. You said only I could be your bride.
“You gave me this veil and told me it would be the one I’d wear at our wedding someday.”
Then she tossed the veil into the fire.
The flames consumed it instantly.
Before the shock could register on their faces, she pulled out a charm and looked at Charles.
“Charles, you gave me this when you were fifteen. I was frail and constantly sick back then, always running a fever.
“You couldn’t bear to see me suffer, so you went to Fragrant Hills Church just to pray for my health and safety.”
Once again, Margot threw the item into the fire, her actions swift and resolute.
Next, she pulled out a love letter Joey had written when he confessed his feelings to her.
Then came the glass slippers Charles had gifted her.
After that, it was the princess dress Joey had once given her.
One by one, she threw each token of her past into the flames. Not even the photographs capturing her childhood and youth were spared.
Watching her methodically erase every memory they had shared, Joey could no longer stand it.
