Her Last Gift

At seven in the evening, the villa glowed with bright light. I wore an apron as I carried the freshly cooked braised short ribs out of the kitchen.

Daniel sat on the couch and peeled an apple for Morgan. The scene of mother and son bonding felt painfully ironic.

“Mom, have some fruit.”

Morgan wore a dark green dress and a strand of round pearls around her neck.

She did not take the apple. Her gaze moved past Daniel and landed on me.

“Daniel, why is this thing you keep around still here?”

I lowered my eyes and placed the dish on the dining table. I knelt at the coffee table with my hands folded in front of me. “Hello, Mrs. Cardea.”

Morgan let out a cold laugh. She stood up, and her heels struck the marble floor in a sharp rhythm.

She walked up to me and looked me over. “Still reeks of poverty. It is only because Daniel is kind‑hearted that he took pity on you and threw you a few scraps. You do not think wearing a few designer labels can change what you are, do you?”

Daniel stayed on the couch and took a slow bite of the apple.

He enjoyed watching me belittled. He believed that if I was pushed low enough, I would cling to him more.

“Mom, Mira is very obedient.” Daniel spoke in a light tone.

“Obedient. I have seen many people like her.”

Morgan picked up the cup of hot tea from the table.

I wanted to move away, but Daniel’s cold gaze warned me to stay still.

In the past, I would have avoided it to lessen the pain. At that moment, I believed it no longer mattered.

This body would be gone in a few days. One more injury made no difference.

The tea splashed onto my chest and arms. The wool sweater absorbed the heat and clung to my skin. A sharp pain spread across the area.

I let out a quiet sound and bit my lip to keep from crying out.

Morgan covered her mouth in an exaggerated gesture. “My hand slipped. Ms. Lowe, you are not upset, are you?”

Tears filled my eyes, but I did not let them fall.

“It is fine, Mrs. Cardea. I should not have been in the way.”

Daniel walked over and lifted my arm to look at the red skin. He frowned, but not out of concern.

“What a shame. Her skin is damaged. It will not feel the same anymore.”

He turned to Morgan with a helpless smile. “Mom, use cold water next time. And this rug came from overseas. It is very hard to clean.”

In that moment, something inside me broke. It was not dignity, because that had disappeared long ago. It was the last small piece of hope I held for this world.

This was the man I had loved, feared, and tried to understand. On his scale, my pain and his rug held the same weight.

Morgan waved her hand. “Enough. Stop being an eyesore.

“Go wash up. Do not let that poverty of yours touch my son.”

I lowered my head and stepped back as if released from a sentence.

As I walked toward the bathroom, I heard Morgan say behind me, “Daniel, these playthings are fine for amusement, but Ms. Weston is back for her break. You should meet her.”

In the bathroom, I rinsed my red skin with cold water again and again. The woman in the mirror looked pale and drained.

The door opened suddenly. Morgan stepped inside and locked it behind her.

The small space felt even tighter. I pressed my back against the wall.

She washed her hands under the faucet, then pulled a check from her crocodile skin handbag and placed it on the counter.

“Here. Five million dollars. Take the money, leave Silverton, and stay away from my son.

“If you bother him again, I have many ways to make that father of yours in prison suffer.”

I stared at the check. The long string of zeros felt like a dark whirlpool.

Five million dollars was enough to clear my debt to Daniel, with money left over.

Three years earlier, I would have begged for this. Now, it was too late.