Chapter 2: Ashes in Rosie’s Room

I came home, my daughter’s ashes in my arms. From Rosie’s room, I heard the unmistakable sounds of a man and a woman—panting, moaning. Savannah’s voice, spent and soft, trembled with pleasure.

The house was too quiet, except for those sounds coming from Rosie’s room. My grip on the urn tightened, knuckles turning white. Every moan, every gasp from behind that door was a fresh wound, salt in the rawest place.

"Enough, Dylan. I can’t fit into the kid’s clothes… Don’t lick there…"

Her voice was breathy, tinged with giggles. The image made my stomach twist. I wanted to scream, to rip the door off its hinges, but I held back—waiting, listening, gathering proof.

Dylan’s voice, smug and satisfied, carried through the door.

He sounded like he’d just won the lottery, every word a slap in the face. My heart hammered, rage and grief clawing at each other inside me.

"Savannah, you even ditched your daughter’s surgery for me. I’ll make it up to you, I swear! You’re gorgeous—I can’t bring myself to delete a single picture! Your period’s late this month—you must be pregnant! I’ll give you a healthy baby!"

Every word was poison, twisting the knife deeper. I could hear them moving, sheets rustling, a phone camera clicking. The casual cruelty of it all made me want to puke.

After their wild session, Savannah curled into Dylan, complaining.

Their laughter grated on my nerves, sharp and ugly. Savannah’s voice turned soft, almost sweet, as she confided in Dylan. I pressed my ear closer, every word burning itself into my brain.

"My husband is so boring and stiff in bed. He just hangs around the house, smelling like fried food, eating for free. Kids grow up just fine—no need to coddle them like he thinks. I’m always busy saving lives, and he can’t even let me have a little fun. So annoying!"

She said it like I was nothing. I felt myself shrink, the ground falling out from under me. I wanted to storm in, to make her see what she’d become, but I held back, needing proof.

My hands shook so badly I almost dropped my phone while recording.

I fumbled with the screen, blinking away the tears that kept threatening to spill. The urge to burst in was overwhelming, but I gritted my teeth, making sure I got it all on tape. My breath came in short, sharp bursts.

"Ha! Thanks for the compliment, Savannah! Wasn’t it wild to try it in the kid’s room today?"

Dylan’s laughter was loud and shameless. The thought of them together in Rosie’s room nearly made me lose it. I bit down hard on my lip, tasting blood, and pressed record.

Little Rose was dead, and these two were messing around on her favorite little bed!

The realization hit like a punch to the gut. My daughter was gone, her room defiled by the people who should’ve loved her most. The injustice made my vision blur with rage.

I stood at the door, fists clenching and unclenching. Even after three deep breaths, I couldn’t get a grip on my anger. Eyes burning, I burst in.

The door slammed open, banging against the wall. I stood there, shaking with fury, breath ragged. Savannah and Dylan froze, their faces a mix of shock and annoyance. I barely recognized the woman in front of me.

"Savannah! Look—this is our daughter’s ashes! You left her on the table for two hours during surgery. Did you know she was calling for you—‘Mom, save me!’—right before she died?"

My voice was rough, shredded by grief. I held the urn out, hands shaking so bad I thought I’d drop it. The words spilled out, desperate and pleading, but Savannah just rolled her eyes.

My desperate words just bounced off her. Savannah’s face went stone-cold.

She looked at me with pure contempt, her lips curling. No guilt, no regret—just annoyance that I’d interrupted her fun.

"You knew there were people in here—couldn’t you wait before barging in? Stop using this to scare me! The nurse said after I left, my dad found another top surgeon. Rosie was faking it the whole time!"

Her words were like ice, each one a slap. She threw a robe on, barely bothering to cover up. I stared, numb with disbelief and horror.

The pain was sharp, like a punch to the stomach. I wiped at my eyes, trying to see straight. Savannah moved around the room, totally unfazed, her indifference cutting deeper than any insult.

Dylan shot me a smirk, acting like he was worried.

He met my eyes, smirking, daring me to react. His fake concern made me want to punch something.

"Ethan, even though you and Mr. Carter locked me up on that island and someone busted up my wrists, I never held it against you. I can’t work these days, so I want your barbecue ribs—otherwise I won’t have the energy to keep up with Savannah."

He leaned in, whispering something that made Savannah giggle. His words were meant to get under my skin, and they did.

My chest was about to burst from rage and grief. After three days of running on fumes, I could barely process Dylan’s demands. He kissed Savannah, then paused and said,

I swayed, exhaustion and fury twisting in my gut. Dylan’s arrogance was unreal. I clenched my fists, fighting to stay upright.

"Ethan, you trying to join us? Sorry, I really don’t want to teach you how to please Savannah!"

He grinned, every word oozing mockery. My face burned with anger, my hands shaking. I wanted to hit him.

He made me sick. I glared at Savannah, voice shaking with fury.

My voice was raw, thick with pain. I stared at Savannah, searching for any hint of regret. There was nothing.

"Our daughter’s dead, your dad’s in the hospital—are you happy now? No one’s ever going to beg you to do surgery again! Savannah, I swear—within three months, you’ll be the disgrace of the whole Maple Heights medical community!"

The words rushed out, fueled by rage and heartbreak. I pointed at her, my voice echoing in the house. The promise hung in the air.

In six years of marriage, I’d never yelled at Savannah. She glared right back, snapping,

Her eyes burned, her voice like a whip. She spat the words, face twisted in contempt. I barely recognized her.

"I always knew you were worthless! You’re just a useless man, finally showing your true colors! Just to get me to help you and your daughter compete for attention, you even curse your own kid and my dad? What, you want another funeral at home to make yourself feel better?"

She rolled her eyes, voice dripping with mockery. The sting of it hit hard, but I stood my ground as she grabbed her phone.

Savannah grabbed her phone, shooting me a look that could freeze water.

She fired off a text, fingers flying. Every move screamed contempt.

"I want you to send this loser to the island in ten minutes! I hear your training’s top-notch—teach this clueless, boring husband a lesson!"

Her voice was icy, all business. She didn’t even glance at me as she gave the order. The bodyguards showed up almost instantly, stone-faced and ready.

I was stunned, no clue how she knew so much about the underground world. Suddenly, a wall of bodyguards slammed me down. The leader looked me over.

I tried to fight, but they were too strong. The leader gave me a mocking once-over, like I was just another piece of meat. My mind spun, scrambling for a way out.

"Dr. Carter’s really going all out. Willing to hand over such a handsome husband for us to deal with?"

His words dripped sarcasm, his grip like steel. I struggled, but it was useless. Fear crawled up my throat.

They slapped tape over my mouth. A boot crashed into my face, blood pouring from my nose. Savannah barely looked up.

The tape was suffocating, the kick to my face sent stars spinning behind my eyes. Blood dripped down, pooling at my feet. Savannah watched, arms crossed, not even flinching.

"He seems really attached to that little urn. Smash it in front of him! Let’s see if he ever dares yell at me again!"

Her words were arctic, her eyes hard as glass. The bodyguards moved to obey, faces blank. I thrashed, desperate to protect the only thing I had left.

Veins popped on my forehead, eyes bloodshot. I fought with everything I had. After barely breaking free, I got whipped across the back. Shaking my head at Savannah, I dropped to my knees, begging for mercy, banging my head on the floor again and again.

The pain blurred everything, but I kept going. On my knees, forehead thudding against the floor, I begged through the tape, praying she’d see the desperation in my eyes.

She just sighed, rolling her eyes like I was a fly buzzing in her ear.

She waved me off, her impatience obvious, not even pretending to care.

"Who knows what he’s saying—so annoying!"

She flicked her hand, turning her back on me. The bodyguards dragged me closer to the urn.

"Savannah, Ethan looks really freaked out about that urn. Why not just give it to him? Maybe then he’ll stop hating me…"

Dylan put on a soft, wounded voice, giving Savannah those big sad eyes. The act was obvious, but she fell for it.

He played the victim, every move calculated. Savannah’s face softened, her "saintly" side triggered. She strode over, raising Rosie’s urn high in front of me. I looked up, tears streaming uncontrollably.

Seeing her hold the urn over her head nearly broke me. My vision blurred, tears running down my cheeks. I reached out, begging her to stop, but she just sneered.

"Still threatening me? You married into the Carter family and think you can take me on? I’ll tell you what—I love being with Dylan, and there’s nothing you can do about it! Every day I come home to you and your daughter faking illness—it makes me sick!"

Her words were pure venom. My heart shattered, hope slipping away for good.

Smash!—the urn shattered over my head. Ashes rained down, sticking to my skin, gritty and cold. My sobs were swallowed up by the dust. The woman I’d loved was gone—a demon where my college sweetheart had been. Turns out, letting go can be that easy.

Ashes clung to me, cold and real. I sobbed, the sound muffled by tape. The memory of our wedding flashed through my mind—a cruel, sharp reminder of everything I’d lost.

I remembered our wedding, and my daughter’s last words—"Mom doesn’t want me anymore"—haunting me forever.

Those words wouldn’t leave me. I clung to the memory of Rosie’s voice, her tiny arms squeezing my neck. The pain crashed over me, impossible to escape.