Part 2A Song for the Stolen

The air in the room seemed to freeze.

Lily, terrified, shrank into my arms, sobbing quietly.

Though Mark was crippled, he stood before us like an angry lion.

"Get out!"

He grabbed the wrench he used for fixing appliances.

A bodyguard stepped forward, reaching out to shove Mark.

"Don't touch him!"

I screamed, grabbing the scissors on the table used for cutting delivery bags.

I aimed the sharp tip at Chloe's exquisite face.

"Get your people out, or I don't guarantee this face will ever go on stage to play piano again."

Chloe was startled.

She instinctively covered her face and took two steps back.

"Ava, are you crazy?"

"I'm here to help you!"

Her eyes widened, full of incredulity.

"Look at this loser you married, and this little brat you gave birth to."

"Don't you want a better life?"

I sneered.

"Help me?"

"As who? As Chloe, the name I should have had, or as 'Ava,' the name that stole my life?"

Hearing this, Chloe's face paled.

It was her only stain.

The scar she feared most being uncovered.

She gritted her teeth, pulled a check from her limited edition Hermès bag, and tossed it lightly onto the ground.

The thin piece of paper landed on the cold concrete floor.

"It wasn't easy for Mom and Dad to raise you. Although the methods were harsh back then, you took the money yourself."

"You squandered three hundred thousand and ended up like this. Who's to blame?"

"Unlike me. I worked hard, I improved myself. I lived up to that admission spot."

She spoke with such righteousness.

As if I really took the huge sum to party, while she was the diligent genius.

I just found it absurd.

Anger exploded in my chest, burning my insides.

But I couldn't get physical.

For my daughter, I couldn't go to jail.

I took a deep breath.

Bent down.

Picked up the check.

A smug smile curled Chloe's lips.

"That's rig—"

Riiiip—

The sound of tearing paper.

I tore the fifty-thousand-dollar check into shreds right in front of her.

I threw them into the air.

The confetti fell like snow on her coat worth tens of thousands.

Then.

I picked up the cup of overnight tea on the table.

Bitter tea stems still floating in it.

Splash—

The brown tea water flowed down her meticulously styled curls, ruining her exquisite makeup, and dripping onto the white fur.

Chloe's scream almost lifted the roof.

"Ah!! Ava! You dare splash me!"

The bodyguards moved to strike.

I pointed at the old camera in the corner.

"There's surveillance in this room, connected to the cloud."

"Touch me, and I'll send the story of you buying an identity and stealing my college admission ten years ago to the media."

"We'll go down together."

Chloe froze.

She was a famous pianist. A public figure.

She couldn't afford to lose.

"Fine. Very good."

Chloe wiped the tea from her face. Makeup smeared, she looked like a clown.

"Ava, you will regret this."

She fled in embarrassment with her bodyguards.

The hurried click-clack of high heels echoed in the hallway.

Until the sound completely disappeared.

Only then did I go limp, the scissors clattering to the floor.

Mark walked over, asking nothing.

He just silently pulled me into his arms.

His embrace smelled of engine oil, but it made me feel incredibly safe.

"It's okay, Ava. It's okay."

But.

Was it really okay?