Chapter 2

Leora's POV

"Can't you squeeze out a single tear, Leora?!"

Dressed in meticulous mourning black, Sylvia shoved her bodyguards aside, stumbling and nearly collapsing onto Owen's casket draped in white roses.

Douglas quickly wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into his chest. His hypocritical face was written with deep sorrow: "Sylvia, calm down. We're saying our final goodbyes to Owen."

"Calm down?! My son is dead!"

She gasped violently, whipping her head around to glare at me with bloodshot eyes. A second later, her legs gave out, almost fainting again.

Relatives rushed to support her as a chorus of weeping erupted through the crowd.

Dozens of eyes, laced with scrutiny and pure hatred, stabbed into me all at once.

I wore a plain black dress, holding an umbrella, standing quietly before the muddy grave in the pouring rain. Aside from silence, I offered no expression.

The crowd parted. Faye stepped out. Her perfect makeup was artfully smudged by tears, making her look more like the grieving widow than I did.

"Leora, Owen loved you so much... what are you hiding?" She paused, her voice turning suddenly sharp. "The police have been questioning you for days, and you keep telling Detective Calloway you were out cold on sleeping pills. But we've lived under the same roof for years—you've never had sleep issues."

Faye took another step forward, a glint of malice in her eyes. "Who prescribed those pills? Why did you choose that exact moment to take them?"

Gasps rippled through the cemetery.

I just watched her pitiful mask, leisurely switching my umbrella to my left hand.

Faye's tears cascaded, but the words she spat were dipped in poison: "And the scene. The police said you were right there when Owen took his last breath, yet the blood was wiped spotless—no weapon, no footprints, no fingerprints." She suddenly raised her voice, pointing wildly at the casket. "That takes professional counter-surveillance training! A panicked killer couldn't do that! Leora, you cleaned the scene. Who are you covering for? Or was there another man, your secret lover?!"

That line blew up the crowd.

"I knew her calm act was suspicious!"

"Owen worshipped her as a queen, and she murdered her own husband!"

"Let the cops drag her away!"

Alden's wealthy elites, family, and friends—people who usually maintained their high-society decorum—were now pointing fingers and hurling curses at me, ready to tear up the cemetery.

I stood in the center of the storm for a moment. Then, my eyes shifted back to Faye.

"Are you finished?"

I slightly lifted my chin, my calm voice cutting right through her hysterical sobbing.

"Faye, defamation not only carries massive civil damages, but severe cases result in prison time. If you, or anyone here, can produce a single shred of actual evidence that I 'colluded with lovers' or 'covered for a killer', please, hand it over to Detective Calloway right now."

Faye's face froze.

"My private attorney is right here." My tone remained freezing cold. "If you want to continue this little performance, he can open his briefcase right now and draft an astronomical civil lawsuit against you."

Dead silence fell over the graveyard.

"You're a monster—you have no heart!"

Sylvia finally caught her breath, pushing Douglas away to point a trembling finger directly at my nose. "Owen threw his life away for you! How desperate must he have been when he died?! You know exactly who did it! Are you going to let him die in vain?!"

I didn't answer.

Just as the standoff became suffocating, a childish wail tore through the gloomy clouds over the cemetery.

"Mommy—"

Ten-year-old Caden broke free from his nanny. He stumbled across the wet grass, running toward me and latching onto my leg for dear life. Dressed in a tiny black suit, his face covered in tears and snot, he looked up at me.

"Mommy, where did Daddy go? Why are they putting Daddy in that black box and putting it in the dirt?"

"Leora! Are you going to break your own child's heart too?" Owen's aunt Berta stepped forward, sobbing. "Caden lost his father at ten. Tell the truth, if only for the boy's sake!"

I looked down into those red, puffy eyes.

There was not a single ripple in my own eyes, only a chilling, absolute stillness.

Slowly, inch by inch, I pulled the hem of my dress out of his small, tightly gripped hands.

"I was asleep. I don't know."

Merciless. Like a fatal sentence.

Caden froze in place. A few seconds later, as if fully realizing what had happened, he let out a harrowing, desperate scream. He grabbed his own hair, his small body bending backward like a drawn bow.

The screaming lasted less than five seconds before abruptly cutting off.

Caden's eyes went wide. His mouth gaped in terror, as if an invisible hand was crushing his throat, making him gasp desperately for air.

His trembling right hand clutched the left side of his chest.

Within just a few seconds, the color drained from his face, turning from pale to a suffocating, sickening purple.