A WEEK LATER
ISABELLA
The wind was cold, biting into my skin like the ghosts of everything I had lost.
A week had passed, yet his words still haunted me like they had been carved into my bones.
"Your father killed your mother…"
I stared at the tombstone in front of me, my fingers tracing the name etched in stone.
My throat burned, but the tears refused to fall anymore. I had cried enough. Now, all that remained was this hollow ache… this fire I couldn't put out.
"Hey, Mum…" I whispered, kneeling beside her grave. "I finally got him."
The wind blew softly as if she were listening.
"I arrested the man who killed you," I said with a weak smile. "I am sorry it took so long. I'm sorry I couldn't see it before."
My voice cracked.
"I thought he was a good husband, I thought he cared. He wore a mask so well, I even wanted to forgive him at one point. But he never loved me. He never loved you. You were just a shadow in his way."
