Chapter 12 - The Truth in the Nursery
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Brendan followed her up the stairs, ignoring Victoria’s screams from the dining room and the officers calling for him to remain downstairs.
He sprinted down the long hallway, reaching the open doorway of the small northern nursery just as Nora walked inside.
The harsh white ceiling light was still on.
For the first time, Brendan actually looked into the wooden crib.
In the center of the crisp, empty white sheet sat the silver-and-white porcelain urn. Engraved on the front plate in delicate gold lettering was a single name and two dates:
Chloe Fairchild
Nov 14, 2023 – Nov 8, 2026
Forever Loved
Brendan stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes widened, staring at the small container as the reality hit him like a physical blow.
He dropped to his knees right there on the doorway threshold, his chest heaving as tears streamed down his cheeks.
"No... no... no..." he choked out, slamming his fists against the hardwood floor. "Chloe... my baby girl..."
Nora stood beside the crib, looking down at him without a single drop of pity.
"You didn't come to the hospital once during her last week," Nora said, her voice dropping into a terrifyingly quiet register. "You blocked her doctor's calls. You let your assistant treat her life like an unwanted line item on a ledger."
"I didn't know it was that bad!" Brendan wept, lifting his tear-stained face. "Ximena told me it was just routine management! She told me you were overreacting!"
"You chose not to know because knowing was inconvenient for your lifestyle," Nora said.
May you like
She picked up the urn, cradling it gently against her shoulder, and pulled her coat off the back of the rocking chair.
"The house is gone, Brendan," she said, walking toward the doorway where he lay weeping. "The company is gone. Your money, your name, your reputation—they're all gone. You have twenty minutes to leave."
