Rain drizzled steadily.
Aria knelt quietly in the mud.
Dozens of funeral wreaths lined up in a neat row, and an oversized portrait hung inside the mourning hall.
She had been kneeling outside for over six hours.
The old master was dead, and Micheal was convinced she was the murderer.
She wanted to move, but she couldn't. Her legs were tied together in a kneeling position, and her hands were bound behind her back.
She wanted to cry out her innocence, but she couldn't. Micheal had sealed her mouth with tape, rendering her cries unheard by heaven or earth.
All she could do was watch helplessly as Micheal stood beside Ruby in front of the mourning hall, receiving condolences from the Smith family's relatives and friends.
Ruby had gained Micheal's trust during the time she spent taking care of the old master.
Aria thought Micheal was laughable—he'd been completely fooled by Ruby. It was Ruby who had pulled the old master's oxygen tube.
Unfortunately, there were no security cameras in the old master's room.
In her ears, it seemed she could hear her mother crying—right outside the Smith family's gates.
Her mother had come.
She desperately hoped her mother could save her.
At this point, the only person who might truly help her was her mom.
But knowing Micheal, there was no way he'd let her mother in.
Night fell.
A breeze swept past, and Aria trembled all over, her soaked clothes clinging to her skin.
The old master's burial was in three days, and Micheal had ordered her to kneel for all three.
The rain kept falling, and Aria swayed in place under the storm.
Micheal had gone in for dinner.
Ruby, holding an umbrella, approached Aria. At that moment, they were the only ones at the entrance of the mourning hall.
"Aria, doesn't it feel great to be falsely accused?" Ruby mocked.
Aria raised her head and glared at Ruby with all the fury she could muster. If looks could kill, she'd have ended that wicked woman on the spot.
More than anything, she wished Micheal would walk out right now and see Ruby's true face.
Only now did she finally understand a painful truth—seeing is not always believing.
What Micheal saw was all a lie. A complete and utter lie.
And everything she said—the truth—no one believed.
"Staring at me won't change anything," Ruby sneered. "You should start thinking about what Micheal will do to you after the funeral. What do you think—will he smother you? Feed you to the Tibetan mastiffs? Or maybe bury you alive to keep the old man company in the afterlife?"
At the words "smother" and "feed to the dogs," Aria's body convulsed.
Scenes of Micheal smothering her daughter and feeding her to the mastiffs replayed in her mind like a nightmare. Silent tears rolled down her face. Every time she thought of her child, her heart broke anew.
Ruby took a step closer and slapped Aria's face roughly.
"Mmm, just kneel there and cry. Think about how your daughter died. You'll end up worse than her," she spat.
Aria couldn't speak, but her hatred burned like wildfire. She hated this woman, a stranger who had tormented her so viciously. With a sharp turn of her head, she lunged toward Ruby, wanting nothing more than to end her.
But Ruby was quick. Sensing her intent, she took a step back, letting Aria fall to the ground, bound and helpless.
"Tsk tsk, you brought that on yourself. Tried to attack me and tripped instead. Not my fault, Aria," Ruby said with a wicked grin. "Now lie there in the mud, drink some rainwater, have a taste of dirt—enjoy your feast."
With that, Ruby turned and strutted off.
Aria lay sideways in the rain, still bound in that humiliating kneeling position.
She hadn't even had a minute of proper rest after childbirth. Now, wind and rain battered her broken body.
She was dying.