Chapter 5
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I comforted her while helping stop the bleeding. The tooth was too tiny and slipped into a crack in the floor. No matter how hard we tried, we couldn't get it out.
Back then, Chester had even said, "Enough with the digging. We're changing the floor anyway. Let it be a mark Dottie left in this house."
I clenched the tooth in my fist. Its sharp edge cut into my palm, and blood seeped out and stained the bit of white red. Tears splattered soundlessly onto the floor.
None of this had been my delusion. This was the very proof.
If I hadn't given birth and Dorothy never existed, where did this baby tooth, buried beneath the floor, come from?
After the crushing grief came a rage fierce enough to burn everything down. If Chester had gone to such lengths to erase every trace of Dorothy, it could only mean she was still alive.
I wrapped the blood-stained tooth in layers of tissue and hid it close to my body, tucked into the lining of my bra.
…
At 7:00 pm, Chester came home. The moment I heard the fingerprint lock click, I slipped back into bed, slowed my breathing, and let my eyes go dull and unfocused again.
"Sophie, how are you feeling today?"
He walked in, carrying the chill of the night and a faint trace of perfume. I stared blankly at the ceiling, my voice hoarse. "Chester, I have a splitting headache… Am I really insane? I thought I saw blood on the floor today."
A thought flashed past his eyes, but he sat down gently and handed me the two white pills. "See? You're hallucinating again. Take the medicine, and you'll be fine—all the strange things will disappear."
I opened my mouth obediently and took the pills, lifting the glass and tilting my head back. As the water slid down my throat, I tucked the pills into the soft hollow beneath my tongue.
Watching my throat move as I swallowed, Chester finally relaxed. He tucked the blanket around me and said, "Go to sleep. I've got some work to handle in the study tonight. I might be up late."
"Alright," I replied, closing my eyes.
Ten minutes later, the study door closed. I immediately rushed into the bathroom and spat the pills out. Then, barefoot on the carpet, I crept over and lay in wait outside the study.
Chester was on the phone. His voice was low, but every word reached me clearly.
"Don't worry, Mr. Ziegler. That woman's lost her mind. She can't cause any trouble… Yes, that problem is being handled properly. She's staying at St. Mary's Welfare Home in the suburbs for now. A boat will take her to the southeast at midnight tonight.
"As soon as the divorce papers with Sophie are finalized, I'll be free to marry into the Ziegler family. Just make sure the ten-billion-dollar investment is ready."
My nails dug deep into my palm. So, this was it.
My delusional disorder, as well as the claim that I had never given birth, was all for the Ziegler family and that astronomical investment. To become the perfect rich son-in-law, he had to be single, childless, and untethered.
To him, Dorothy and I were just obstacles he had to clear on his path to wealth and status. He didn't want to be labeled as the man who abandoned his family, so he drove me mad and sold Dorothy abroad.
That way, he would become the devoted husband who had cared for his mentally ill ex-wife for years, the flawless victim. It was a vicious, brutal, and calculated move—truly.
Suddenly, I heard a chair's squeak. Chester was ready to come out. I slipped back into the bedroom at once.
At 1:00 am, he was fast asleep. I moved quietly, took his car keys, and planted a tiny tracking program on his phone. It was a trick I had learned back when I worked as an investigative reporter.
Never had I thought I would use it on the man sleeping beside me. Honestly, looking at his handsome yet deceptive face in sleep, I had an urge to stab him.
I held myself back, knowing death would be a bargain for him. Instead, I wanted him ruined, exposed, and deprived of everything he had ever loved.
