Chapter 3

The next morning, I woke to sixteen missed calls from Ethan.

For one breathless second, I thought he had remembered. Lily's birthday. The promise.

Then I read the texts.

"Where are you? Victoria needs the jewelry from the bedroom safe. Bring it to my office."

"Mia, stop ignoring me. This is important. Victoria has a gala tonight."

"I'm not asking again."

Not a single word about Lily. Not one.

I deleted the messages and focused on giving my daughter the birthday she deserved.

I rented a small room at a bakery Lily loved. I bought a cake shaped like a rabbit — her favorite. I blew up balloons until I was dizzy and hung a banner that read "Happy 2nd Birthday, Lily!"

It was nothing compared to the extravagant Cole family parties. But when Lily saw it, she gasped like I'd given her the whole world.

"Mama! It's a bunny cake! Like Mr. Flopsy!"

She hugged her stuffed rabbit and bounced with pure joy.

I took a photo. Then another. I wanted to remember this — her happiness, untouched by everything ugly in our lives.

"Can Daddy come?" she asked suddenly, looking at the door.

My throat tightened. "I called him, baby. He said he'll try."

I had called. He hadn't picked up. But I couldn't tell her that.

We waited.

Lily insisted on saving a slice of cake for him. She sat by the door with it on a paper plate, her little legs swinging, watching for him.

One hour passed. Then two.

Her legs stopped swinging.

"Maybe Daddy's stuck in traffic," she whispered.

"Maybe," I said, barely holding it together.

By the third hour, the bakery staff gave us sympathetic looks. Lily's party hat had slipped sideways. The candles on the cake had melted into the frosting.

I was about to pick her up and leave when the door finally opened.

Lily's face exploded with joy. "DADDY!"

But it wasn't Ethan.

It was his assistant, carrying a shopping bag. He couldn't meet my eyes.

"Mrs. Cole — I mean, Ms.... Ethan sent this for the child. He apologizes, but something came up."

I opened the bag. Inside was a generic stuffed bear with a price tag still attached. The kind you grab from a hospital gift shop in under thirty seconds.

No card. No note. No personal touch.

Lily took the bear and held it uncertainly. "Where's Daddy?"

"He's... working, sweetheart."

She looked at the bear. Then at the door. Then at me.

"He's not coming, is he, Mama?"

She didn't cry. That was the worst part. She just... accepted it. Like she'd already learned, at two years old, not to expect anything from her father.

I took the bear from her hands and threw it in the trash.

Then I kneeled in front of her and held her face gently. "Lily, how would you like to go on a big adventure with Mama? We'll go meet your great-grandma. She has a huge garden with real rabbits."

Her eyes widened. "Real bunnies?"

"Real ones. And she's been waiting so long to meet you."

Lily looked at the door one more time. Then back at me. "Will Daddy know where to find us?"

I kissed her forehead. "If he looks hard enough, he will."

That was the last lie I told my daughter about Ethan Cole.

That night, while Lily slept, I made three calls.

The first was to James. "Prepare the car for tomorrow. Early."

The second was to my grandmother's attorney. "Start the process."

The third — the last — was to Ethan. He picked up on the sixth ring, and I could hear Victoria laughing in the background. Music. Clinking glasses. A party.

He was at a party. While his daughter waited alone with a slice of cake.

"What?" he said impatiently.

"I just wanted to hear you say it," I replied calmly. "One last time."

"Say what? Mia, I'm busy—"

"That she doesn't matter to you. Say it, so I never doubt this decision."

A pause. Then a sigh — bored, dismissive. "You're being dramatic. I sent a gift, didn't I? What more do you want from me?"

I closed my eyes. "Nothing, Ethan. I don't want anything from you. Not anymore."

I hung up, removed the SIM card, and snapped it in half.

By sunrise, Lily and I would be gone — and Ethan Cole's perfect world would begin to crack.