Fatal Preference: Mother's Ruin

The yellow school bus crumpled. Daphne bled inside.Her vitals crashed. Her mother—Astrid, a top national pediatric trauma surgeon—walked away.

She flatout refused to treat her own flesh and blood. Instead, she sprinted to her high school sweetheart’s son. Toby barely had a scratch. Daphne fought until her final breath.

She just wanted her mom. One last look. One last touch.

Astrid’s voice dripped disgust through the phone line. "Her grades already suck, and now she fakes a trauma for attention?" she scoffed. "God, what a toxic brat.

I regret wasting my life raising her." She actually believed her own daughter gaslit her. Then, nurses rolled out the gurney.

Astrid collapsed at the sight of Daphne's shattered corpse. "I'm sorry," she choked out.

Her fingers frantically clawed the bloodsoaked fabric. "Mommy messed up." Chapter 1 The softness in Astrid’s eyes right now? She never once looked at Daphne like that.

Daphne just turned eight. Since Astrid practically lived at the hospital, I was the one raising our little girl.

Naturally, Astrid always found a way to blame me for every single one of her flaws. Daphne worked herself to the bone.

She only slipped off the straightA honor roll a handful of times. But Astrid didn't care about the effort.

The second she brought home a B, the verbal firing squad began. "Are you completely braindead?

A toddler could solve this!" Astrid would snap. "I don't know where you get this from. You're so utterly useless.

If I had known you were going to be this pathetic, I would have saved myself the embarrassment of giving birth to you." Daphne would just stare at her sneakers.

Tiny shoulders shaking. Swallowing her sobs so she wouldn't make a sound. At that moment, my hand rested on Daphne’s freezing skin. The air emptied from my lungs.

My heart felt like it was being sliced open, and I couldn't even speak. "It's okay, Toby. Aunt Astrid's got you.

I'm going to fix this," Astrid whispered, her voice trembling as she fought to keep it together. She was the best pediatric trauma surgeon in the state for a reason.

It took hours before the heavy OR doors finally swung open, signaling Toby's success. Astrid let out a massive breath and stepped out of the OR, rolling her stiff shoulders.

A young scrub nurse practically ambushed her in the hallway.

Panic widened the girl's eyes. "Astrid… One of the kids from the pileup… we think it's your daughter." The nurse swallowed hard. "She's crashing. She just keeps begging to see you.

One last time." Astrid's lingering worry vanished, hardening instantly into irritation. "Is she still pulling this stunt?" Astrid scoffed, rolling her eyes. "She thinks she can fake a trauma to get out of her homework?

She's not just an idiot now, she's a pathological liar?" The nurse chewed her bottom lip, visibly recoiling. "Astrid, I swear to God, it's real—" "Enough!" Astrid barked, cutting her off. "If she wants to die so badly, let her drop dead!

Good riddance! I'll just pretend I never gave birth to her! She spends all her energy plotting these sick lies instead of actually opening a textbook! Look at Toby!

That kid is brilliant. Top of his class, every single time!" I stood at the end of the hall. Watching the ice in her eyes. The tearing in my chest metastasized.

It hardened into a suffocating, black rage. I always knew Astrid resented our daughter. But this? She wanted Daphne in a body bag.

She wouldn't even grant her own flesh and blood a final goodbye. My sweet, tiny girl.

Right up until her eyes rolled back for the last time, her cracked lips kept moving. "Mommy… it hurts… I'm sorry, Mommy. I won't embarrass you next time.

I promise…" A monitor beeped from Toby's room. Damon called out that his son was waking up. Astrid didn't even blink.

She shoved past the trembling nurse and rushed right back to Toby’s bedside. Chapter 2 Astrid practically sprinted to Toby’s side.

She brushed his hair back, maternal warmth radiating from her pores. "Toby, sweetie, how are you feeling? Tell Aunt Astrid if anything hurts, okay?" Toby offered a weak nod.

Damon shot Astrid a look, shifting his weight. "Astrid… I heard Daphne was brought in too. How is she doing?" The smile vanished.

Astrid’s face contorted with disgust at the mere mention of her daughter. She pressed her lips into a thin, annoyed line. "We're in the best trauma center in the state. She's fine.

The little brat just had someone call down here to say she's dying. I swear to God, they must have switched her at birth." A fleeting smirk crossed Damon’s face.

He buried it instantly, adopting a gentle tone. "She's still your kid, Astrid. She just wants your attention.

Cut her some slack." "Don't make excuses for her!" Astrid snapped, vibrating with indignation. "Hayes ruined her! Look at Toby. You raised a perfect gentleman.

Toby would never stoop to this level of toxic manipulation." Her phone buzzed in her pocket. It was me. I stood down the hall, watching the scrub nurse trudge back.

Her slumped shoulders told me everything. I squeezed the nurse's arm, forcing a hollow, broken smile. Six kids came through those sliding ER doors from that crushed yellow bus.

Daphne was the only one who didn't make it. I stared at Daphne's face. Her skin was already turning slightly yellow. It felt like a heavy stone was pressing down on my chest.

Every inhale scraped against my ribs like shattered glass. Astrid picked up the call. "What do you want?" she huffed. Any other day, I would have fought her.

But the fight bled out of me the second my daughter's monitor flatlined. "Daphne is dead," I stated.

The words tasted like ash. "If you walk down here right now, you might catch them before they take her to the morgue." Dead silence on the line. Then, an audible scoff. "Fine.

Let's go," Astrid hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "If I walk down there and she's breathing, I will physically beat the living hell out of her! Ditching class.

Faking injuries. Keep enabling her, Hayes! When she ends up behind bars, do not call her my daughter!" My fingers dug into the plastic casing of my phone. The room tilted.

My lungs seized. "Astrid," I forced the name through my clenched teeth, the sound ripping from my throat. "I am going to say this one last time. Daphne is dead!

You're supposed to be a goddamn genius! Do you not understand plain English?" She let out a condescending little laugh. "Are you done with this charade? I have to take care of Toby.

I don't have time for your sick little games!" Click. The screen went black. The fluorescent lights strobed into blinding flashes. My knees gave out. I hit the tiles hard.

My hand clawed at my sternum, dragging in ragged, tearing gasps of air. I dragged myself across the linoleum. Inch by inch. Right back to Daphne's side. I opened my contacts.

Hit block on Astrid's number. Then, I just sat there. Staring at my little girl. Chapter 3 Daphne was always a good kid.

The only time she ever missed school was when her temperature spiked to 104. I panicked, scooped her up, and rushed her straight to the ER.

In the sheer chaos, calling the attendance office completely slipped my mind. The school called Astrid. She didn't even let me explain.

She immediately branded our daughter a manipulative truant who just wanted to ditch class and play hooky.

After that day, Daphne dragged her tiny, aching body to school no matter how sick she felt. Six months ago, she collapsed right in the middle of the cafeteria.

By the time I rushed to the hospital, the doctor told me she had been running a fever for three days straight. The untreated infection had triggered severe myocarditis.

But to Astrid?

It was all just another toxic lie. "Why does she get sick when normal kids don't?" Astrid had sneered. "Her grades are already rock bottom, and now her immune system is garbage too?" "Aunt Astrid, your cooking is the best.

Can you make dinner for me every single day?" Toby tugged at Astrid's sleeve, giving her those innocent puppydog eyes.

I was the one who cooked every single meal since the day Astrid and I got married. She hadn't touched a spatula in years.

But looking down at Toby's face, she agreed without a second thought. "Astrid, I'm so sorry to impose on you," Damon murmured, looking thoroughly apologetic.

Astrid ruffled Toby's hair with a bright smile on her face. "It's no trouble at all. Toby grew up without a mom. It's only right that I step up for him." She kept her word.

That very afternoon, she hauled bags of expensive groceries straight to Damon's place. She spent hours prepping a massive, multicourse dinner just for the two of them.

Meanwhile, I was standing in the funeral home. Arranging my eightyearold daughter's funeral. My gaze locked onto the tiny, pale face resting inside the casket.

Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot.

She hesitated before handing me her phone. "Astrid just called me five times in a row," Mom whispered. "Is… is there an emergency?" I slowly lifted my heavy head and took the phone.

My vocal cords felt like sandpaper. "What?" "What do you mean, what?

Where the hell did you take Daphne to mess around this time?" Astrid’s shrill, furious voice pierced through the speaker. Bile rose in my throat. It was sickeningly ironic.

Even now, she actually believed Daphne was just out on some joyride. When I didn't answer, her tone softened just a fraction. "Look, I'm swamped right now.

Damon has to pick up some shifts, so I'm watching Toby. When you two are done playing hooky, get your asses home." I found it ridiculous.

Daphne literally flatlined in Astrid’s own trauma center.

If she had an ounce of maternal instinct—if she had just glanced at the morgue registry—she would have known. "Daphne isn't coming back," I rasped. "She's never coming back." Astrid snapped. "Fine!

Go run wild with her! Do whatever the hell you want! I am officially washing my hands of both of you!" "Astrid." My lower lip began to tremble slightly. "Daphne is dead.

If you have a single shred of a human heart left, you will come to the crematorium right now. To see her one last time. I am giving you exactly one hour." "Hayes!

Are you seriously still dragging this out—" "Astrid! Are you completely deaf?!" I roared into the phone, the sound tearing my throat to shreds. "You're a goddamn doctor!

She died in your hospital! If you think I'm lying, why don't you march out to the nurse's station and ask your own colleagues?!" Chapter 4 My chest heaved violently.

Oxygen starved my brain. Whether Astrid actually bought it or not didn't even matter anymore. Every last drop of hope I ever had for my wife was already dead.

It died every time she praised Toby’s perfect manners right to our daughter's face. It died when she abandoned Daphne in a trauma bay to coddle a kid with a scratch.

It died every single time she used her surgical schedule as an excuse to ditch birthdays and school plays. Exactly one hour later, the funeral home doors slammed open.

Astrid stood there. Staring at the tiny body. "How did this happen?!" She lunged, her fist twisting into my collar. Her other hand shook wildly as she pointed at the casket.

Tears spilled down her cheeks. I just stared at her, a bitter, hollow laugh scraping my throat. "Out of that entire wreck, the only fatality was your daughter.

The exact same daughter you explicitly wished would drop dead." Astrid’s jaw dropped. She searched my eyes, practically begging for a punchline.

Begging for a lie to make it all make sense. "The blood soaked into Toby's clothes?

That belonged to Daphne," I stated, my voice dead. "When the paramedics found them, Toby was buried completely underneath her." Astrid looked like she'd been slapped.

All the strength abandoned her. She sank to the floor, dragging herself forward, step by heavy step, until she reached the polished edge of the open casket.

Violent tremors seized her hands. "Daphne… Mommy is so sorry…" Her voice cracked into a guttural wheeze. "Please, baby. Just open your eyes.

Just look at me…" She clawed at the polished wood. "Mommy was wrong. I won't force you to study anymore. No more pressure, I swear. Let's go home, baby.

Please…" She cried so hard she almost passed out. She collapsed over the polished wood, gasping for air. But Daphne was never coming back.

Suddenly, Astrid ripped her gaze away from the casket. Her bloodshot eyes locked onto me, blazing with sudden fury. "Hayes!

Why the hell didn't you tell me it was this bad?!" A fresh wave of disgust crashed over me. "I didn't tell you? Or you just flatout refused to believe me?!" Astrid flinched.

The memory of my frantic phone calls clearly flashed across her eyes, but she instantly doubled down. "That's because you two are constantly lying to me!" she shrieked. "Lying to you?

About what?!" My entire body shook. "Do you have any idea that because of your toxic comments, she hid her fever from me?

She pushed through the pain until her heart literally gave out! Severe myocarditis, Astrid! But how would you know?

You're too obsessed with playing mommy to Toby!" The fight drained completely out of her. "I… I didn't know…" Her fingers slipped off the polished wood.

She slumped against the casket, utter despair swallowing her whole. "Why didn't you tell me, baby?" she sobbed into her hands. "Why did you let me believe the worst about you?" Her apologies were empty.

Pathetic. I stood completely frozen, watching my wife break apart next to our dead child. Then, her phone rang. A small voice echoed through the speaker. "Aunt Astrid?

Where did you go?

I'm scared…" Astrid instinctively turned her back to me, huddling over the phone. "I'm so sorry, Toby," she whispered frantically, desperate to keep me from hearing. "I'm coming right back.

Don't be scared." Chapter 5 The line went dead.

Astrid shifted her weight, clearly debating how to spin this. "Let me guess." I stared blankly at the sterile wall. "Toby." She chewed her bottom lip, her expression hardening into stubborn resolve. "Yes.

Toby is home alone. He's terrified. I need to head back and sit with him." "Astrid!" The anger I had just suppressed flared back to life. "Did you give birth to Daphne or not?!

What could possibly be more important than putting your own child in the ground?!" She scowled, repulsed by my volume. "You're here, aren't you? Toby is little.

He doesn't have a mother. Leaving him alone is a massive safety hazard! Jesus, Hayes, do you have zero empathy?" She spun on her heel, fully prepared to walk out.

She paused, glancing back with an expression of pure disbelief. "I already told you, the kid has no mom. I'm just stepping up.

Are you seriously threatening divorce over such a minor inconvenience?" A minor inconvenience. Missing her own daughter's funeral. A minor inconvenience. Ice water flooded my veins.

My chest went completely hollow. "Toby doesn't have a mother, Astrid," I said, my voice eerily calm. "But Daphne does." "Daphne is already dead!" she fired back, glaring at me like I was the villain. "Me standing around a crematorium isn't going to magically change that!

The living take priority over the dead! If Toby gets hurt today because you guilttripped me into staying, that blood is on your hands!" My jaw locked tight.

I stared dead into the eyes of the woman I married. "Astrid. If you walk out those doors right now—we are done. I will file the papers.

And Daphne will never acknowledge you as her mother." She sucked in a sharp breath, swallowing her rage. "Stop trying to guilttrip me, Hayes! Stop with the emotional blackmail!

What is so wrong with a doctor checking on a patient? What is so wrong with a mother showing a little compassion to a singleparent kid? Why are you so incredibly toxic?

You literally disgust me." She didn't even wait for a response. She marched out the door. I felt dizzy, and my vision went dark. The world tilted off its axis.

I would have hit the concrete floor if my mother hadn't rushed forward, catching my dead weight against her shoulder.

The ashes were barely settled before I parked outside my lawyer's office to sign the divorce papers. When Astrid finally got served the court summons, she called me.

She sounded exhausted, completely put out. "Hayes, can you please just give it a rest? I am drowning in work. Stop throwing these ridiculous tantrums." "Monday morning.

Family court," I stated coldly. "If you aren't there, I will walk straight into your hospital lobby and broadcast exactly what kind of mother you are to every single one of your colleagues.

Try me." The threat choked the words right out of her throat. Before she could recover, a small voice echoed in the background. "Aunt Astrid? Who are you talking to?

Daddy says dinner is ready." A dark, bitter sneer curled my lips.

I genuinely couldn't wait to see the look on Astrid's face the day she finally realized Toby was the reason Daphne was in a body bag. "I have to go.

I'll deal with you later," Astrid rushed out. In her panic, she fumbled the screen.

She didn't hit the endcall button. "Is everything okay, Astrid?" Damon's voice floated through the open line, dripping with innocent concern. "Was that Hayes?

I'm so sorry, I accidentally overheard… is he doing this because of me?" "Just ignore him," Astrid sighed, her voice laced with irritation. "He's just being completely irrational." I heard the muffled thud of the phone being tossed onto a fabric sofa.

Footsteps retreated toward a dining table. Then, rustling. Someone picked up the phone. Through the open line, I could practically feel Damon staring at the active call screen.

Smiling. Chapter 6 The mocking drawl of a man’s voice filtered through the open line.

Damon had picked up the phone. "If she hadn't hesitated back then, my wife wouldn't have missed the golden window for resuscitation," Damon sneered. "Hayes, she's just paying off her guilt.

I heard your little girl flatlined, though. If you love her so much, why don't you do us all a favor and go join her?" My teeth chattered from anger.

I just wished I could kill him right then and there to avenge my daughter. Astrid didn't show up. I walked out of the family courthouse alone.

The rational part of my brain screamed at me to maintain my composure. But rationality was dead. I drove straight to her trauma center.

I marched right up to the crowded nurse's station, zeroing in on Astrid. I didn't even blink.

I whipped the thick, heavy stack of courtstamped divorce papers directly into her face.

The sharp, explosive crack of the thick parchment striking her cheek echoed through the lobby.

Astrid stumbled back, utterly stunned. "Hayes, are you out of your goddamn mind?!" she shrieked, clutching her face. "Yeah, I am!" The words tore from the bottom of my lungs, raw and fractured. "I gave you an ultimatum!

But you? Do you even have a shred of a soul left for me or Daphne?!" "Psycho! Security! Get security!" Astrid screamed. A wall of blue scrubs instantly formed around her.

A tiredlooking middleaged man stepped forward, trying to restrain me. "Sir, please calm down. As a fellow parent, I understand how you feel, but Astrid is a toptier surgeon.

There has to be a misunderstanding." I used to watch hospital freakouts on the news. I used to judge the families, wondering why they couldn't just be rational.

Now, I felt the butcher knife twisting in my own ribs. Because of Astrid, Daphne was trapped in a freezing drawer. Forever. Phones lifted into the air.

Dozens of camera lenses pointed straight at us, recording the meltdown and posting it online. I didn't care.

I pointed a shaking finger right at my wife. "Yeah, she's a toptier surgeon!

She's so professional!" I yelled, my voice cracking. "So professional that when her own flesh and blood was begging to see her one last time before dying, she flatout refused!" The murmurs rippling through the crowd instantly died.

People exchanged shocked glances. Astrid forcibly regulated her breathing. She adjusted her pristine white coat, slipping perfectly into her victim mask. "I am a mother.

Of course I love my child," she stated smoothly, projecting her voice for the cameras. "But I took an oath.

My child’s life matters, but doesn't another child's life matter just as much?" She looked around, playing the crowd. "From a medical standpoint, I did nothing wrong by treating a patient I deemed critical.

As a wife and a mother, if you blame me and want a divorce… then fine. I accept that." Her PR speech was flawless. Empathy washed over the faces of the bystanders.

A dark, bitter laugh scraped its way out of my throat. Even with her daughter dead, she was still manipulating everyone in the room. "How noble, Astrid. A real martyr," I sneered.

I ripped open the manila envelope in my hand. I hurled the photos in my hand straight into the air. They rained down over the nurse's station. The crowd looked down.

The photos clearly showed Astrid clinging to Damon's arm. Gazing up into his eyes. They looked so intimate. The sympathy in the lobby evaporated, curdling into disgust