The Fallen Noble Wife

Seven years after I walked out of the opulent gates, I found my ex-husband standing by a dirty oil drum at the auto repair shop.

He was a VIP, there to pick up his multi-million dollar supercar, the kind of man everyone in the city deferred to. The undisputed prince of the elite.

And me? I was the car wash girl, in an ill-fitting uniform, my hands chapped and raw from the cold.

For a full hour, he sat in the waiting lounge, never once glancing in my direction. Until the manager, eager to curry favor, pointed at a muddy tire and barked at me:

"Go on, use a toothbrush to clean the pebbles out of that rim! One hundred bucks a pebble!"

I did not hesitate. I knelt in the freezing water, ten degrees below zero, and used the hands that once played the piano to pick out the stones.

Amidst the jeers and laughter, I shivered violently but dared not stop. When I finished the last one, I pushed myself to my feet, my knees screaming in protest. His cold, mocking voice cut through the air.

"Still rather dig in the mud than come home and beg for mercy?"

"Summer O'Connell, your pride sure fetches a high price!"

I offered him a detached smile and extended my swollen, raw hands.

"Thirty pebbles. Three thousand dollars. Cash or transfer?"

Years had passed. Love and hate had long been buried. But three thousand dollars was just enough to buy my recently deceased daughter the cheapest plot in the cemetery.

The members of the supercar club surrounding us were filming with their phones.

"Isn't that the former Miss O'Connell? Look how far she's fallen."

"Tsk, tsk. For a few thousand bucks, she'll do anything."

Ethan Hill remained silent. Beside him, Chloe Hayes clung to his arm. She feigned a gasp, clutching her nose.

"Oh, sister, it's so cold, why are you wearing so little? Ethan, look, her hands are bleeding."

The malicious glee in her eyes was impossible to hide. Seven years ago, this woman had faked a fall, breaking her leg, and blamed it on me. Ethan believed her, forcing me to kneel and apologize. I refused. Pregnant and defiant, I was thrown out of his family home.

"The money," I demanded, my voice hoarse, my gaze fixed on Ethan.

He sneered, pulling a wad of crimson bills from his leather wallet. Around three thousand.

With a flick of his wrist, he didn't hand them to me. Instead, he scattered them directly into the nearby black drum of waste engine oil.

"You want the money?"

"Fish it out yourself."

The manager, eager to please Ethan, kicked over a bucket of dirty water nearby. The greasy sludge splashed all over me.

"Mr. Hill's generosity! Aren't you going to thank him?"

But I did not hesitate. I knelt by the oil drum, plunging my hands into the nauseating, black sludge.

One bill, two bills, three bills...

The oil was foul and stung terribly on my raw, chapped skin. But I felt nothing. My mind was consumed by Carice.

Carice was still in the hospital morgue. The attendant said if I didn't pay to claim her by tonight, they would dispose of her as an unclaimed body.

I meticulously retrieved each bill, wiping off the excess oil on my uniform. Ethan watched my desperate actions, his face growing darker with every moment.

Suddenly, he strode forward, grabbing my collar and hauling me up from the oil drum.

"Summer O'Connell, are you that desperate for money? Desperate enough to throw away your dignity?"

He was furious. I forced a smile that was uglier than a grimace.

"What's dignity worth these days, Mr. Hill?"

"Thank you for the charity."

He shoved me away. I lost my footing, my back slamming hard against the metal frame of the automatic car wash. A searing pain shot through my spine, as if it had broken.

Ignoring the agony, I scrambled to grab the money scattered on the ground, then turned and ran. I dared not look back. Carice was waiting for me. I had to take her home.

Reeking of oil, I sprinted to the hospital. Passersby covered their noses, giving me a wide berth.

Bursting into the morgue's payment office, I thrust the wad of grimy bills through the slot. "I'm here to claim Carice Hill's remains. This is the final payment."

The clerk behind the counter grimaced, picking up a bill with two disgusted fingers. "What is this? It's all oil! The bill counter won't even take it!"

"How can I accept this?"

The money was flung back at me, scattering across the floor. I panicked, frantically gathering the bills.

"Please, just this once, I beg you, this is real money, it really is..."

"My daughter has been lying in there for two days. It's a cold freezer, and she hates the cold..."

I knelt before the window, banging my head against the counter repeatedly. The clerk, though visibly uncomfortable, shook his head.

"Ma'am, it's not that I don't want to help, but even the bank might not accept this. Please, just leave, don't make a scene. It will be worse when security comes."

The clerk closed the window. I clutched the useless wad of bills, walking out of the hospital like a zombie.

Night had fallen. I pulled out my phone, desperate to borrow money, to find someone to help. Scrolling through my contacts, I found only a handful of numbers. The socialites and trust fund kids who once fawned over me had all blocked me seven years ago.

The only "friend" who answered, after listening to my desperate plea, simply said, "Summer, it's not that I won't lend you money. Ethan put out the word C anyone who helps you will regret it. Don't blame me for not being loyal. You made your bed, now lie in it."

The call disconnected. The world went silent. I returned to my tiny, ten-square-meter basement rental. Before I even reached the door, I saw my landlord tossing my belongings outside. Carice's tiny clothes, her tattered teddy bear, and my ill-fitting uniforms lay scattered in the mud.

"Well, you're finally back!" The landlord clutched her nose, pointing at the pile of junk.

"Heard your daughter died at the hospital? What bad luck! Get your stuff and get out. I'm not renting this place anymore. Someone just died here, who'd want to live in it?"

Rain was falling. It splattered on Carice's favorite Winnie the Pooh bear. She had bought it with recycled cans, washing it countless times. It was old but clean. Now it was covered in mud.

I rushed over, frantically scooping up the bear, trying to wipe away the mud with my sleeve. "Don't throw it away! This is Carice's!"

"Get out! Just looking at you makes me sick!" The landlord shoved me hard, slamming the door shut.

I fell back into the rain, clutching the muddy bear, clutching the useless, oil-soaked money. A raging fever blurred my vision.

I heard Carice crying. She said, "Mommy, I'm cold." She said, "Mommy, I want to go home. I want to sleep under a big tree."

I wiped the rain from my face. I couldn't give up. Even if I died, I had to lay Carice to rest first. Ethan had blocked every path. So I would go to him. I would beg until he was satisfied.

I heard Ethan was hosting a bachelor party at the "Twilight" club tonight, celebrating his engagement to Chloe.

I staggered to my feet, tucking the Winnie the Pooh bear into my coat, and stumbled towards "Twilight."

"Twilight" was the city's most exclusive, extravagant playground. Covered in oil and drenched from the rain, I was stopped by security guards at the door.

"Where did this beggar come from? Get lost!"

I dropped to my knees. "I need to see Ethan Hill. Please, just let me see Ethan Hill."

I kowtowed repeatedly. Ten minutes later, I was dragged into the luxurious private room.

The room reeked of stale smoke and expensive liquor. Ethan sat in the center of a plush leather sofa.

"Well, well, isn't it the ex-sister-in-law? What, car wash money not enough? Decided to try your luck here?"

Laughter echoed, grating on my ears. I ignored them, walking straight to Ethan and kneeling again. My knees had long since gone numb.

I pulled out the wad of money, still reeking of oil despite my attempts to clean it, and held it out in my palm. "This money... I can't use it."

My voice trembled as I lowered my head, humiliated. "Mr. Hill, please, have mercy. Lift the ban. All I want is to buy Carice a burial plot. Once she's laid to rest, I'll disappear. You'll never see me again."

Ethan didn't take the money. "Summer O'Connell, your bastard child died?"

Bastard. The word pierced me like a knife.

"Her name was Carice."

"Good riddance. Saved her from growing up to be a nuisance."

My nails dug into my palms. I fought the urge to lunge at him and tear him apart.

Chloe suddenly giggled, picking up a bottle of hard liquor from the table. "Ethan, sister looks so pitiful. Why don't we help her out?"

As she spoke, she motioned for a server to set up ten large beer mugs. They were for "depth charges"high-proof liquor mixed with whiskey and energy drink. One could knock out a grown man.

"Sister, money's hard to come by these days. How about we play a game?" Chloe pointed at the drinks.

"Five hundred a glass. You drink one, and Ethan will give you five hundred cashclean money. Drink ten, and the ban is lifted immediately."

Ten glasses. Five thousand dollars. Exactly enough for a burial plot. But my body, ravaged by severe ulcers and unhealed postpartum complications, couldn't handle even one glass, let alone ten. It would kill me.

I did not hesitate. "Fine, I'll drink."

I grabbed the first glass and tilted my head back, chugging it down. The fiery liquor burned my throat, and my stomach immediately cramped, making my vision blur with pain.

"Cheers! Good one!" The people around cheered, egging me on.

The second glass. The third. By the fourth, I couldn't hold it in anymore. I vomited a mouthful of bright red blood, mixed with the liquor, a horrifying sight.

The private room fell silent for a moment. Ethan frowned, his fingers twitching instinctively.

Chloe immediately stepped in front of him, blocking his view, and gasped dramatically, "Oh dear, sister is throwing up blood! Has she been drinking too much cheap liquor and ruined her stomach?"

She turned to Ethan, pouting, "Ethan, it looks like sister really suffered for that scoundrel all these years."

At the mention of "scoundrel," any ripple of concern in Ethan's eyes vanished. He spoke coldly, "Keep going. Don't stop until you finish."

I wiped the blood from my mouth. My hands trembled, unable to hold the glass steady.

The fifth glass... The sixth... Each gulp felt like drinking battery acid. My vision swam, but I stared fixedly at the stack of cash on the table.

By the eighth glass, I could no longer stand. I collapsed to the floor, convulsing violently. Blood poured continuously from my mouth, staining the expensive carpet.

Was I dying? No, not yet. I hadn't gotten the money. I struggled to crawl towards the table, my blood-soaked hands reaching for the cash.

"Enough!" Ethan stood up, kicking the table over. Bottles crashed, shattering on the floor.

He snatched the stack of money and violently threw it at my face. "Take the money, and get out!"

My hands shaking, I picked up the bills one by one, clutching them to my chest. Chloe's high heel stomped onto my hand, the heel grinding into my raw, chapped skin.

Excruciating pain.

"Sister, now that you have the money, go buy a coffin. Don't die here and make a mess of Ethan's club." She whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Your short-lived daughter deserved it."

I turned, dragging my broken body, and slowly, painstakingly, left the private room.

I crawled out of "Twilight." The rain continued to fall, washing away the blood and alcohol from my body. I clutched the money tightly, even as my consciousness blurred and my stomach screamed in pain.

I had to pick up Carice. I had to take her to the cemetery.

I claimed Carice's body from the hospital morgue and took her to the funeral home. After paying the fees, the staff looked at me as if I were insane. But I finally held the small urn. It was so light.

My Carice. Born weighing only four pounds, she wasted away to skin and bones when she died. Burned to ash, she was barely this much.

"Carice, Mommy's taking you home."

"We'll live in a big house, with big trees and flowers. No more sleeping in the basement."

Clutching the urn, I stumbled towards West Hill Cemetery. It was the most auspicious burial ground in the city. Carice had seen it in a picture book once and said she wanted to live there to see the stars. I couldn't afford a plot there, so I could only buy one in the furthest corner.

But it was enough. As long as she could rest in peace.

By the time I reached the cemetery gates, the rain had stopped. Dawn was just breaking. I saw a familiar black Rolls-Royce parked there. It was Ethan's car.

Before I could react, Ethan and Chloe emerged, surrounded by a phalanx of bodyguards. They were there to inspect the Hill family mausoleum.

Chloe's eyes immediately landed on the box in my arms. She shrieked, dramatically hiding in Ethan's embrace.

"Ah! Ethan! That's an urn! How unlucky!"

"It's our feng shui inspection day. She's crashing it with a dead person's ashes. Is she trying to curse us?"

Ethan's face darkened when he saw me. "Summer O'Connell, are you haunting me now?"

"Is this really a place you should be?"

I clutched the box tighter, retreating two steps. "I paid for this... This is a public cemetery. I have the right to be here."

"I just want to bury Carice. Once she's buried, I'll leave. I won't bother you anymore."

I explained repeatedly, my voice hoarse and desperate. But Ethan didn't believe me.

"What Carice? I think you're just carrying an empty box to gain sympathy and extort money!"

In the chaos, Chloe suddenly lunged forward, pretending I pushed her to the ground. "Ow! My stomach... Ethan, she pushed me!"

Ethan's eyes hardened. To protect Chloe, he shoved me. "Crazy woman!"

The push was forceful. I was already at my breaking point, my foot slipped, and I fell heavily onto the concrete. The urn flew from my grasp.

I watched helplessly as the cheap wooden box shattered on the hard pavement, splitting into pieces. The gray-white ashes scattered into the muddy puddles. A gust of wind blew, scattering them further.

They mixed with the grime, making it impossible to distinguish dirt from bone.

I lay on the ground, stunned for two seconds. Then, a heart-wrenching wail tore from my throat.

"Carice!!!"

I scrambled forward on my hands and knees. I desperately scooped up the muddy water.

"Carice... don't be scared, Mommy's here... Mommy will clean you up..."

I cupped a handful of soaking wet mud, trying to separate the ashes from it. But it was impossible. It was powder. How could I separate it?

My hands were covered in blood, my fingernails broken, yet all I could scoop up was dirty mud.

"Why..."

"Why won't you even let her rest in peace?"

I lifted my head, my face streaked with tears and mud, my eyes bloodshot as I stared at Ethan.

Ethan froze. He looked at the tragic puddle of pale ash on the ground, feeling an unfamiliar chill creep over him for the first time. The sudden panic made him instinctively take a half step back.

"She's faking it! It must be the ashes of a cat or dog." Chloe continued to fan the flames.

I ignored her. I just stared at Ethan. Suddenly, I laughed.

"Ethan Hill."

"Do you know who this is?"