The Frozen Truth: A Mother's Revenge

Brooks was always a master of negligence.

On our wedding day, he rubbed the back of his neck, claiming his tuxedo vanished, and stood at the altar wearing a black Tshirt with cartoon cat ears.

When I had Ivy, I was already discharged from the hospital by the time his text chimed in, casually asking when my water was going to break.

Then came the day he locked Ivy in an automated metal parcel locker outside in the freezing weather for thirtysix hours. My baby girl froze to death in the biting snow.

His only defense was a careless shrug. "I was just absentminded. Lost track of time." The guilt and grief chewed through my bones until my body gave out.

In my final, gasping moments, my eyes caught the lit screen of his burner phone. Pinned to the top of his messages was Skylar, his old college friend. Her profile picture?

That same black catear logo. My pale finger tapped the chat thread.

In the newest messages, the man who couldn't even remember our daughter's age had typed out paragraphs of meticulous instructions.

He told Skylar exactly which brand of painkillers worked the fastest, even attaching a photo of a drawer packed with tampons, carefully sorted by date.

I blinked, and the sterile room vanished. I was back. Back to the exact day Ivy was locked in that freezing metal box.

Brooks stood in front of me, blinking those innocent eyes, claiming he'd been too careless and forgot all about her.

I popped the cork on a bottle of champagne, letting the fizz settle before meeting his gaze. "You really are careless," I said, my voice deadpan. "You even got your own daughter wrong." Chapter 1 Brooks totally missed the undertone, his brow furrowing at my uncharacteristic calm.

I leaned back against the velvet sofa, swirling the Dom Pérignon in my crystal glass, and took a small sip. "It's crisp.

For the company's IPO bellringing celebration tomorrow, we'll go with this one." Seeing I wasn't rushing, he probed again, carrying a tiny fraction of guilt. "It's been almost thirtysix hours since she got locked in.

It's freezing out there. You don't think Ivy's in trouble, do you?" I stared dead into his eyes.

My fingers tightened around the crystal stem, fighting the urge to throw the champagne right in his face.

In my previous life, I had gone out of town on a twoday business trip, leaving Brooks in charge of dropping off and picking up Ivy from school. He promised he had it covered.

But when I got home, the house was empty. I called him. Only then did he smack his forehead and gasp. On the way home with her, a sudden blizzard hit.

He told our daughter to crawl inside an automated metal parcel locker to hide from the snow while he ran into the supermarket to buy an umbrella.

Then he bought the umbrella and completely forgot she existed. I had sprinted to the locker station like a madwoman, slamming my fists against the metal doors. "Ivy!

Ivy!" "Can you hear me? Mommy's here! Mommy came to find you!" I dropped to my knees in the snowdrift, my teeth chattering as I screamed her name over and over. Silence.

Dead silence. The blizzard had raged all night. The temperature outside had plummeted well below zero.

I choked down the bile rising in my throat, grabbed a heavy fire extinguisher, and smashed the metal locker until the hinges buckled. Blood instantly coated my palms, slick and hot.

But I didn't feel a thing. I just mechanically wiped the freezing tears off my face. One strike. Another. And another. Finally, the door gave way. I saw Ivy.

She was already frozen stiff. Her tiny body was curled into a tight ball, her eyelashes coated in tiny ice crystals formed from her tears.

I carefully scooped her up, pressing her freezing frame tight against my chest, desperately trying to transfer my body heat to her. But she stayed icecold.

Inside the dark metal box, deep, bloody scratch marks scarred the back of the door. My lungs collapsed as a raw, guttural scream ripped from my throat. And Brooks?

He just scratched his head, looking mildly inconvenienced. "Maeve, I was just too careless." Back then, I actually bought his bullshit.

Until my final breath, when I saw the chat history on his burner phone. The day Ivy was locked away just so happened to be Skylar's birthday.

After he bought that damn umbrella, he wiped our daughter from his memory. He rushed to pick up a custom cake for Skylar, then hurried to a luxury hotel to celebrate with her.

A whole night of warm candlelight, tangled sheets, and heavy breathing. He couldn't hear our daughter's desperate, suffocating screams echoing inside that pitchblack metal box.

That day, I was drowning in so much agony I completely missed the sprawling, dark purple hickey bruised into the side of his neck. But standing here now? I saw it clear as day.

Brooks shifted his weight, his eyes darting away from my intense glare. "Maeve, it's all my fault. I promise I'll never be this careless again." I gave a slow nod.

You really are careless, Brooks. We arrived at the locker station he mentioned. But unlike my past life, that woman—Skylar—showed up too.

She threw a sideways glance at me, then opened her mouth with practiced ease. "Brooks! What a coincidence!" "Everly has her Math Olympiad prep class right around the corner.

I'm just here to pick her up." Brooks quickly masked the surprise on his face, letting out two soft, awkward coughs. "Honey, this is my old college friend.

She stayed in the city after graduation. I've been meaning to introduce you two, but we just never found the right time…" Chapter 2 Skylar didn't wait for him to finish.

She reached out with practiced ease, adjusting the collar of his coat. Her fingertips trailed intimately down his chest. "Still the same as in college.

You always stutter when you get nervous," she said. "Maeve, right? How do you even put up with him?

Doesn't his constant rambling drive you crazy?" That was the first time I'd ever heard anyone accuse my husband of talking too much. In front of me, his words were pitifully scarce.

If he could use one syllable instead of two, he absolutely would. Brooks shifted uncomfortably, ducking his head.

But Skylar leaned in right next to his ear, a wicked smirk playing on her lips. "You left your blue striped boxers at my place last night.

Didn't you notice?" Her voice was dropped to a whisper, but every single syllable bored straight into my eardrums. Brooks's eyes darted in a panic.

He shot her a frantic look, silently begging her to shut up. Then he spun around to face the wall of lockers, slapping his bare hands against the metal doors. "Ivy!

Sweetie, Mommy and Daddy are here to pick you up!" I watched his impassioned performance, a cold, hollow smirk tugging at my mouth.

Skylar slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes widening in exaggerated shock. "Wait, Maeve, are you saying your kid is locked inside one of these lockers? No way.

What kind of mother just leaves her kid in a box?" "In this freezing weather… I'm guessing she's probably…" Skylar trailed off.

The unspoken end of that sentence held zero concern—just the smug satisfaction of a spectator watching a trainwreck. I massaged my temples, intentionally raising my voice. "Right?

Who in their right mind would lock a perfectly fine kid in a parcel locker?" "Talk about a massive oversight." I paused, letting the silence stretch. "I just don't know… if it was genuine carelessness, or completely intentional." Brooks frantically waved his hands at Skylar. "Drop it, Skylar.

Maeve's been out of town on a business trip these past two days." He rubbed his face, looking worn. "This is all my fault.

I was just careless." Hearing that, she seemed to latch onto a new target. She crossed her arms over her chest, adopting the seasoned posture of a parenting expert. "Wow.

If you ask me, a woman should really prioritize her family.

What's the point of having a successful career if you can't even protect your own kid?" "I mean, I'm a single mom, but I still make sure to spend time with my daughter every single day." I rolled my eyes and threw the question back at her with a slow, deliberate drawl. "Oh?

Well then, you really are mother of the year, spending time with your daughter every single day." I threw heavy emphasis on 'every single day.' Skylar's smug expression instantly curdled.

Brooks sensed the sudden drop in temperature.

He stopped banging on the metal doors. "Honey, it's not easy for Skylar to raise a kid all by herself, so her maternal instincts are just a bit stronger.

Whenever she sees… you know, a mother who's lacking, she tends to speak her mind. Don't take it personally." My fingernails dug violently into my palms.

How the hell did Brooks have the audacity to imply I was the lacking mother?

Seeing Brooks jump to her defense, Skylar straightened her spine, her arrogance inflating right back up. "Your own daughter is locked in a locker and you're not even tearing the place apart looking for her.

Yet you have all this free time to stand here and argue with me." A cold surge of mockery flooded my chest. Exactly. Your daughter is locked in a freezing locker.

Why do you have the free time to stand here chatting? Brooks shot me a look of raw impatience.

He thrust his reddened palms right in front of my face. "Maeve, is all that anxiety you usually show about Ivy just an act? Look at my hands.

They're raw from banging on these doors, and you're just standing there completely indifferent." "Hurry up and help me look.

I forgot which specific locker she hid in." He shook his head, groaning. "And seriously, Ivy is being ridiculous. Can't she hear her parents calling for her?

Why isn't she answering?" Chapter 3 Hearing him mention Ivy snapped the last thread of my patience.

I stared at his slightly red palms and took a slow, deep breath. "Brooks, where the hell do you get the nerve to blame Ivy?

You had one job—picking up your kid—and you couldn't even do that right." I didn't hold back. "What exactly is sitting on top of your neck?

A tumor?" Brooks just stood there, but Skylar immediately bristled. "Maeve, how could you talk to Brooks like that?" She stepped forward, her chin tipped up. "Do you have any idea how incredible he was back in college?" "He gave up massive job offers in the big city just for you.

He willingly stayed in this town to marry you and have kids. And now look at you.

You don't appreciate a single thing he sacrificed, and you're just insulting him." I didn't give her the satisfaction of losing my temper.

Instead, a cold smirk crept onto my face. "Since he's so incredible, and you're a single mom in need, why don't we just get a divorce so he can marry you?" A dark flush crawled up Brooks's neck.

In the subzero weather, a fine layer of sweat broke out across his forehead. "Maeve! Do you know what time it is?

Instead of looking for our daughter, you're standing here talking nonsense!" He spat the words out fast, trying to cover his tracks.

But his eyes remained glued to Skylar, catching the coy, bashful tilt of her head. The electric tension between them was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

If there were a bed right here, they would have ripped each other's clothes off.

Skylar smoothly pivoted. "Brooks, you really need to discipline that daughter of yours." She let out a soft scoff. "You've been banging on these doors forever, and we've been talking out here all this time." "The fact that she's just holding her breath in there?

Everly would never act so uneducated. If my daughter were in there, she'd be crying out for her mom by now…" I snapped.

I hurled the halfglass of ice water into her face, following it with a ringing slap that sent her crashing to the concrete. "Keep your filthy mouth shut.

Trash like you doesn't get to say my daughter's name!" Skylar's eyes blew wide open. She gasped for air, but kept her voice sickeningly sweet. "Brooks, control your wife!

Why is she attacking me? My face hurts so much!" Brooks stepped in front of her, shielding her with his body. "Maeve, what the hell is wrong with you today?

Our daughter is locked in a box, you don't even care, and now you're out here assaulting people—" Smack. Smack. Two brutal, backtoback slaps cracked across Brooks's face.

The impact left my palm stinging and numb. "Don't act shocked.

I'll beat the hell out of your precious college crush, and I'll do the exact same to you." The sharp noise drew the attention of passing pedestrians.

A small crowd began to circle us, whispering. Then, the crowd parted. My mother walked through the gap, holding Ivy securely in her arms. "Maeve, why aren't you home yet?

Ivy has been looking for you all morning." My eyes locked onto my mother's healthy, glowing face and the energetic, bouncing frame of my little girl.

Hot tears immediately flooded my vision, blurring the world into soft, warm shapes.

In my previous life, after I withered away into nothing, Brooks had wasted no time marrying Skylar.

My mother, completely shattered by the rapid loss of both her daughter and her granddaughter, had suffered a total mental collapse and jumped from a building.

Seeing them standing here now, breathing and perfect, a heavy lump formed in my throat, choking off all my words. Ivy spotted my tears instantly.

She reached out with her small, warm hands, gently wiping the moisture from my cheeks. "Don't cry, Mommy.

Ivy missed you too." Brooks exhaled a loud, exaggerated breath of relief, instantly shifting into a tone of heavy reprimand. "Ivy, so you weren't in the locker this whole time?

Why didn't you say something to Daddy? You made me look so hard for you." Chapter 4 Ivy's bright eyes darted nervously, the wide smile dropping from her face in an instant.

I pulled her close, my jaw set tight. "Ivy, ignore your father.

You didn't do a single thing wrong." In this life, I had called my mom ahead of time and had her wait right at the locker station.

The second Brooks walked away, she pulled Ivy straight out. That was how I stopped the nightmare from repeating. I scooped Ivy up into my arms and turned to leave.

Brooks stepped right into my path, his face pulling into a harsh scowl. He couldn't pass up the chance to mansplain parenting to me. "Maeve, do you always coddle her like this?

No wonder she has zero manners." He pointed a stiff finger toward Skylar. "Look at Skylar's daughter.

She just took first place in the Math Olympiad." "She's smart and perfectly behaved.

You should take notes." Skylar shot me a smug, triumphant look. "Maeve, you really need to invest more time and patience into your kid.

It takes real dedication." "Everly is actually taking her Olympiad prep class right around the corner.

I should have her give Ivy a few pointers." But the second the words left her mouth, reality seemed to catch up. Her smug grin faltered.

The class should have ended ages ago, yet Everly was nowhere in sight. Skylar frantically dialed her mother's number.

Through the receiver, the loud clatter of mahjong tiles echoed clearly into the cold air. "I didn't pick Everly up yesterday.

Oh, please, she's old enough to walk on her own two feet. I told her to walk home." "I'm hanging up.

I've been playing cards all night and my luck is just starting to turn." Skylar's face drained of all color.

She hung up and instantly called the prep class instructor, only to be told Everly never showed up this morning.

Her trembling fingers swiped across her phone screen, tracking her daughter's smartwatch GPS. The battery was dead. The screen showed it was completely powered off.

She whipped her head toward Brooks, her voice cracking into a panicked sob. "Brooks… Everly… I think Everly is missing." Right on cue, a faint, muffled wail drifted from the wall of lockers.

It sounded like a whimper crawling up from hell itself. Skylar's entire body went rigid, a violent shudder ripping through her.

She pointed a shaking finger at the lockers, sheer terror blowing her pupils wide. "That… that sounds exactly like Everly…" Hearing it might be Everly, the blood drained from Brooks's face.

Every trace of the casual indifference he had shown when searching for my daughter evaporated.

He threw his bare fists against the metal locker where the sound originated, slamming his knuckles into the steel until the sickening crack of fracturing bone echoed in the cold air.

He didn't stop. He just kept pounding, gasping out raw, frantic breaths. "No! No way! It can't be Everly!" Clang. The metal door gave way.

A little girl lay curled into a tight ball inside, her breathing shallow and raspy.

I watched Brooks drop to his knees, his eyes bloodshot as he caught Skylar's collapsing body. "Everly," he choked out, his chest heaving. "Why the hell is Everly in there?" Suddenly, Brooks wasn't so "absentminded" anymore.

He flawlessly fished his car keys out of his pocket, scooped Everly up like a lifeline, and rushed her to his car, peeling off toward the hospital.

Listening to the roar of his engine fading down the street, Ivy looked up at me, her soft voice tilting in confusion. "Mommy, why is Daddy hugging another lady and holding a different kid?" She blinked. "Is that girl okay?" I gently rubbed her shoulder. "That girl is sick, sweetie.

Daddy is just playing the good Samaritan." Ivy wrapped her small arms tightly around my neck. "Mommy, I don't want Daddy to play the good Samaritan.

I just want him to spend more time with us." The warmth in my eyes vanished, replaced by an icy, hollow stare.

Ivy's sweet, innocent words just poured gasoline over the burning hatred I harbored for Brooks. Yesterday, right after my mother pulled Ivy out of that locker, she videocalled me.

She had been cursing Brooks out, her chest heaving with lingering panic over what could have happened.

While she was talking, I had noticed something moving in the background of her screen. A very familiar little girl slipping quietly into one of the open, empty lockers.

It looked exactly like Skylar's precious daughter. Chapter 5 Since he wanted to play it that way, I'd just let the current take him.

Brooks, it's time you two tasted what it's like to have your flesh and blood ripped away. My mother sensed something was off.

She gave the hem of my coat a gentle tug. "Maeve, tell me the truth. Are you and Brooks having problems?" Her eyes swam with worry. I didn't even know where to start.

I just tilted my head and offered a soft smile. "Mom, don't worry.

I know exactly how to take care of myself." Before we even pulled into the driveway, my phone buzzed with credit card alerts. Thirty thousand dollars in total.

I didn't even have to guess who was draining the accounts. I pulled up the transaction history. Sure enough, every single wire went straight to Skylar's bank account.

I took screenshots of every record. My resolve hardened into ice.

I looked down at my daughter, testing the waters. "If Mommy and Daddy weren't together anymore, would you be sad?" She hugged her stuffed bunny tight, her small face dead serious. "If Mommy and Daddy separate, will Mommy be happy?" I gave a slow nod.

Ivy smiled. "I just want Mommy to be happy forever. As long as you're happy, I won't be sad." That wiped away every last trace of hesitation.

I immediately dialed my private attorney.

I ordered him to freeze every single one of Brooks's supplementary credit cards and to build an ironclad firewall around my trust funds and real estate properties.

By the time the sun came up, I wanted to make sure he couldn't even swipe a card for a cup of coffee.

The second I hung up, a text from Brooks popped up. [Maeve, Everly is in critical condition. Skylar can't handle this all by herself. I'm not coming home tonight.

I need to stay and help.] I didn't reply. I just locked the screen. When Ivy was hospitalized with a high fever, her IV drip had run completely dry.

He had been too busy staring at his phone to hit the call button for the nurse.

I had been so disgusted I sent him to the cafeteria to grab food, and he couldn't even find his way back to her room.

After that, whenever Ivy got sick, I just paid a delivery driver to run errands. But now that Everly was sick, he suddenly morphed into another woman's absolute rock.

A full week passed before Brooks finally dragged himself through the front door. His jaw was covered in dark stubble, his eyes completely hollow.

The second he saw me, his voice cracked into a pathetic sob, and he lunged forward to pull me into his arms. "Maeve… Everly is dead…" He fully expected me to share his crushing grief.

I just took two steps back, my face an absolute blank slate. "Oh." Brooks balled his hands into tight fists and slammed them violently against the entryway console. "Oh!

A little girl is dead, and all you have to say is 'oh'!

Maeve, I never realized until today just how utterly toxic and coldblooded you really are!" The impact sent the framed family portrait on the console crashing to the hardwood floor.

Shards of glass exploded across the room, slicing right through the pictureperfect smiles of our family of three. In my past life, Ivy died freezing in my arms.

He just blinked those innocent eyes and claimed he was a little careless.

At her funeral, he stood there completely detached, acting like the child being buried had absolutely zero relation to him. I spent my days drowning in tears.

He just rubbed the back of his neck, visibly annoyed. "Just because our daughter died, does that mean the living have to be buried with her?" Now, I stared dead at Brooks as he spiraled into a violent, unhinged rage.

It was physically impossible to connect this hysterical man to the calm, indifferent husband from before. My lack of reaction pushed him entirely over the edge.

Blinded by madness, he swung his fist, landing a brutal hook right against my jaw. I didn't see it coming. The heavy impact snapped my head back.

Finding a physical outlet for his twisted grief, Brooks drew his arm back and threw another vicious punch straight at me.

Hot blood gushed from the corner of my mouth, rapidly dripping down my chin. Chapter 6 Ivy heard the crash and scrambled out of her room in a panic.

She immediately wrapped her tiny arms around Brooks's leg. "Daddy, stop hitting Mommy! She's bleeding!" Brooks glared down at her.

He kicked his leg out, sending her tiny body flying backward onto the floor. "Get away from me! Why wasn't it you who died?

Why wasn't it you?!" His unhinged roars echoed off the walls of the entire house. My blood ran completely cold.

I lunged forward, snatching Ivy into my arms and clamping my hands tightly over her ears.

I knew he didn't care for her, but screaming that his own flesh and blood should have died instead of another woman's kid? It hit me right then.

When a man stops loving a woman, he completely stops loving her child, too.

I snatched a heavy glass tumbler off the coffee table and hurled it straight at his head. "Brooks, snap out of it! Do you even hear yourself?

Ivy is your biological daughter!" The thick glass shattered against his temple. Dark blood instantly poured down the side of his face.

He collapsed heavily onto the hardwood floor, burying his face in his hands like the life had been drained right out of him. "Maeve, Everly is dead…" he choked out. "Skylar only had that one child.

Do you have any idea how completely broken she is? How is she supposed to survive this?" His words slammed into me.

Each syllable felt like a rusted nail driven straight into my chest. My years of marriage were nothing but a sick joke.

For countless moments over the years, I had made excuses for his ridiculous behavior. I convinced myself he was just clumsy, oblivious, bad at reading women.

But the truth was, he understood perfectly. He knew exactly how to care for someone. Just not us. In my arms, Ivy was trembling violently like a leaf in a storm.

I held her tight, packed her into the car, and drove her straight to the new amusement park. We spent the entire day there.

She laughed and rode the rides, but on the drive home, she finally looked up at me from her car seat. "Mommy, did I do something bad? Why doesn't Daddy like me?

Why did he say I should have died?" A sharp burn flared in the back of my nose.

I blinked hard, forcing back the hot tears threatening to spill over. "None of us can make everyone in the world like us," I said, my voice soft but steady. "You didn't do a single thing wrong, sweetie." "Daddy just doesn't love you the way Mommy does.

It's the hard truth. You're growing up, and you're going to have to learn to accept these things." She nodded slowly, not fully understanding but trusting me anyway.

It tore my guts apart to say it, but she needed to know the reality. Later, I casually posted a few photos from our amusement park trip to my social media accounts.

Barely two seconds passed before my phone rang.

It was Brooks. "Maeve, what the hell is wrong with you?" His voice barked through the speaker, thick with rage. "Skylar just lost her daughter, and you're plastering this garbage all over the internet?

You're doing this on purpose!

Delete it right now!" I let out a sharp, incredulous laugh, the sheer audacity of his words igniting my temper. "Brooks, are you Everly's biological father or Ivy's?

You kicked our daughter to the ground today! You haven't shown an ounce of concern for her, and now you have the nerve to call and interrogate me?" He didn't even flinch.

He sounded completely justified. "Do you have any idea how crushed Skylar will be when she sees those photos? You're a mother too!" "Can't you show a shred of empathy?

If it was Ivy who died, would you still be acting like this?!" That was the absolute limit.

I gripped the phone and unleashed every vile curse word in the English language, tearing into his entire bloodline before slamming the "end call" button.

Without wasting another second, I called my lawyer. I ordered him to fasttrack the asset transfers and draft the divorce papers immediately.

That night, I packed a bag and drove straight to my mother's house. Just the thought of Brooks's face triggered a physical wave of nausea. My mom sensed the shift.

She didn't press for details, just told me that whatever I decided to do, she would stand right behind me. I stayed at her place for the next few days.

Chapter 7 A motion alert pinged on my phone: stranger detected. I tapped the security app.

Through the highdef lens, Skylar was strutting right into my living room like she owned the place.

Brooks was always so chronically oblivious to anything domestic that he never even noticed the hidden nanny cams I installed right after Ivy was born.

On the screen, Brooks leaned in, his tongue gently tracing the path of a tear down Skylar's cheek. He pulled her deep into his chest, rubbing her back.

Within seconds, clothes hit the hardwood. They tangled together on the velvet sofa.

Skylar casually grabbed Ivy's awardwinning painting of the starry night, tossing it underneath herself as a makeshift mat.

Once they were finished, a smirk crept across Skylar's face.

She took a drag from her cigarette and pressed the glowing cherry directly through Ivy's name on the canvas, burning a hole straight through it.

Then, she brought the heel of her stiletto down, crushing the wooden frame into splinters.

Still unsatisfied, she stormed into Ivy's bedroom and ripped the drawings off the walls, shredding them to pieces.

She kicked over Ivy's little study desk, then dragged a bucket of filthy mop water from the bathroom, violently splashing it all over Ivy's small bed.

Brooks just stood by the door, watching her with aching sympathy. "Skylar, whatever makes you feel better.

Trash anything you want." I switched the feed to 4K resolution and hit screen record, saving every single frame.

What slipped past my notice through the screen was the calculated, sly glint flashing across Skylar's face. That afternoon, I went to the kindergarten to pick up Ivy as usual.

The teacher stopped me at the gate—Ivy had already been picked up. By a man. A heavy knot formed in my stomach. I hadn't even dropped the divorce papers on him yet.

Why would Brooks suddenly remember to pick up our daughter? Ten thousand different scenarios raced through my mind. But one thing was dead certain.

Brooks suddenly showing up for Ivy meant nothing good. I immediately dialed his number. Two rings, and he picked up. "Brooks. I know you took Ivy.

What the hell are you doing?" His tone was incredibly breezy. "You two haven't been home in days. I missed my daughter.

Is it a crime to want to see her?" I let out a cold laugh, dropping the act completely. "You missed her? Cut the bullshit. Spit it out.

What are you planning?" Brooks completely ignored the question. "It's not like I'm going to hurt her. Why are you acting so hysterical?

I just need to borrow Ivy for a couple of days." "I already called the school and excused her absences. Just drop it. I'm her father.

Don't I at least have that right?" My back teeth ground together. Through the receiver, I caught the faint, unmistakable sound of Skylar weeping in the background.

I strained my ears. Wherever Brooks was, it was noisy. Then I heard it—the low, mournful drone of funeral music. My stomach dropped as a cold dread washed over me.

I ripped the steering wheel to the side, flipped a Uturn, and floored it straight toward the city's funeral home