Chapter 2

Yvette hung up. For a few seconds no one made a sound.

Then the whole room burst out laughing.

"Yvette, there's a limit to how much crap a person can spout. You? Chairwoman of the hospital? You've been watching too many soap operas!"

"Right? Everybody here knows you're just a housewife Dr. Henson keeps around. Chairwoman? You wouldn't even qualify as his mistress!"

"This hospital was funded by Skyocean Group. A housewife dreaming of running it? Delusional, plain and simple!"

Yvonne looked at me with the same mockery in her eyes.

"Yvette, have you been overworking lately? Should I book you a psych consult and have someone check your head?"

Cornelius wore nothing but disgust.

"Yvette, what are you losing your mind about now? Keep this up and don't blame me for not being polite."

Then he called hospital security straight over and had me thrown out.

For the next several days, Cornelius used the excuse that Yvonne's son needed his attending physician close by. He never came home, and never once asked about our child.

The day of our son's burial, the rain came down hard.

I kept hearing him call for "Daddy" before he died, so I took out my phone and called Cornelius anyway.

"Dennis is being buried today. If you have a shred of conscience left, come see him one last time."

The line went quiet for a moment. Then a furious voice came through.

"Yvette, are you ever going to stop? First you used your standing as family to force me to operate on Dennis first, and now you're cursing our son to death. Are you even human?"

Then Yvonne's contemptuous voice drifted through the phone.

"Yvette, I know you want Cornelius's attention, but you can't go cursing your own child to die. Even a vicious tiger won't eat its own cubs."

I was about to explain when I heard her son whining in the background.

"Daddy Henson, the puppy you gave me died. Can you get me another puppy?"

Cornelius's anger softened in an instant.

"Okay, Daddy Henson will take you to buy another puppy, exactly like the last one. All right?"

The second the words were out, he ended the call.

When I dialed again, he had already blocked me.

I looked down at the small urn in my hands, and the tears came down hard.

The one thing my son had wanted most in life was a pet of his own.

But Cornelius had refused, righteous as ever, saying dogs carried germs.

Even the little hamster our son kept, he'd thrown out because he thought it was filthy.

Our son knelt on the floor and begged him, and he didn't soften for a second.

But now I saw it clearly. It was never the germs he couldn't stand.

It was us.

After burying my son's ashes alone, drained in body and spirit, I turned to leave.

I had just reached the cemetery gate when a frantic shout came from behind me.

"Ms. Winfield, it's bad! Someone's digging up your son's grave!"

Crack.

It was like a bolt of lightning struck straight down on my head.

I ran back like a woman gone mad.

His headstone had already been knocked flat on the ground, and two bodyguards were driving their spades into the earth, tearing the grave open.

"What do you think you're doing?"

One of them glanced at me, disdainful.

"Ms. Yvonne Fox has taken a liking to this plot. Dr. Henson had us open it up so we can bury Ms. Fox's dog here."

His words dropped me into a pit of ice.

Cornelius wanted to dig up his own son's grave to bury his first love's dog?

The two of them showed no sign of stopping.

I rushed forward and lunged to wrench a spade out of their hands.

One of them saw me coming and swung the spade at me with all his strength.

A pain like a drill shot up through my foot, and I went down flat on the ground.

The other one saw it and lifted his foot to stomp down on me.

In that split second, a furious voice rang out behind me.