Cradling Ashes on Our Honeymoon

I spent the night tending to my wounds, carefully dabbing ointment on each bruise until my face looked presentable again.

The next morning, I took the score report to the psychiatric hospital.

My mother had been living there for ten years, committed after my father, in a drunken rage, beat her so badly she lost her mind. Now, I was the only person she recognized.

After my mother's breakdown left the family without her support, my dad forced me into this program, designed to groom a husband for Sterling Bay's heiress, Genevieve.

"Mom, I'm here. I know you're disappointed I didn't win, but I really had no choice..."

She sat on the bed, clutching a delicate music box. It was a gift Genevieve had given me back in middle school.

My mother caressed it gently, murmuring with a dreamy smile, "Lily, look who's here. Say hello to Nolan."

Lily was the sister I never met. Ten years ago, my father's fists had not only shattered my mother's mind but had also caused her to miscarry.

From that moment on, everything had been broken.

My eyes stung as I thought about how powerless we were, our lives toyed with by the Prescotts as if we were nothing more than weeds to be trampled underfoot.

Just then, a loud, mocking voice broke the silence. "Well, if it isn't Nolan. What are you doing here? Reserving a room for yourself in the nuthouse?"

Julian's voice dripped with mock surprise. "Well, look at you, actually going through with the final interview. How inspiring. For a second there, you were almost my equal."

They were both wearing volunteer vests, probably here for some charity project to earn extra credit for their college applications.

Genevieve wrinkled her nose at me and said to him, loud enough for the whole ward to hear, "Don't be scared, Julian. I'm here. He's not the crazy one; his mom is. She's been insane for ten years."

Their mocking voices cut through the air like glass. My mom flinched. Then, as if to protect the music box, she clutched it to her chest and tucked it under the hem of her shirt. "Don't be scared, Lily. I'm here."

I rushed forward, gently taking the music box from her and straightening her clothes with trembling hands. A film of tears clouded my vision, but I forced myself to stay calm.

Genevieve pursed her lips. "A whole family of psychos."

Her gaze fell on the music box in my hand. She pinched her nose in disgust. "Nolan, that thing looks like some piece of junk from the last century. Why do you still have it? God, you're pathetic. It's disgusting."

Disgusting? This music box had once been her favorite, too.

Unlike the other candidates, I was the only one actually born in Sterling Bay. During summer breaks, I was assigned to be Genevieve's programming partner and playmate.

Once, when we were just kids, she had handed me this music box and giggled, "Nolan, this is our baby."

The adults had laughed, but I had held that music box like a treasure.

Now, to prevent my mother from having another episode, I clutched it tightly and said softly, "I'm sorry, Miss Prescott. My mother's behavior startled Julian. She's not well. Please forgive us."

Before I could finish, my mother's voice rose behind me, sharp and trembling. "Nolan! Who's bullying you? I'll beat them up!"

Julian clutched his chest dramatically and squatted down. "Nolan, what are you doing?" he wheezed weakly. "Just because I beat you, you're siccing your crazy mom on me?" His voice cracked as if he was about to cry.

Genevieve was overcome with pity. She hugged Julian tightly, cooing at him. "Julian, are you okay? Don't worry. I'll take care of this crazy family for you!"

Once he caught his breath, she stood up and slapped me twice, hard, across the face.

Genevieve warned, "Get your crazy mother under control. If she ever dares to touch Julian again, I'll make you both regret the day you were born."

My mother shrieked back, "I'm not the one who's going to die—you are!"

Shaking with rage, Genevieve snatched the music box from me and said coldly, "Mrs. Shaw, that's not Lily. It's a broken old toy from my childhood. Lily is gone, gone when you were pregnant. Stop living in a fantasy."

Then, as if her words weren't cruel enough, she raised the music box high and smashed it onto the floor. Over my mother's heart-wrenching screams, Genevieve stomped on it with the heel of her stiletto until it was a pile of splintered wood and parts.

"She's dead! Do you hear me? Dead!"

My mother stared blankly at the pile of debris, her face a mask of emptiness, before collapsing to the floor. Uncontrollable sobs wracked her body with tremors. With trembling fingers, she tried to piece the torn fragments together, murmuring, "My Lily… Oh, my Lily…"

I held her tightly, terrified she would hurt herself, my own heart hammering with a mix of rage, grief, and helplessness.

When I finally looked up, my eyes met Genevieve's. My voice was cold and steady. "Genevieve, you won't have to worry about seeing me again. I'm leaving the country soon."