I Buried My Daughter, Then My Husband Buried Me

I didn’t realize I was clenching my fists until I felt the sting. My nails had dug into my palms, deep enough to draw blood. They got into their car, the three of them. The picture-perfect family. And I just stood there, watching the taillights disappear, feeling like someone had buried me alive all over again. My hands were shaking when I pulled out my phone. I pressed Lila’s name. It took me a few tries before the call went through. When she answered, my voice came out barely a whisper. “Lila… I need your help.” “What is it?” Lila’s voice snapped through the line. For ten years, she was the only one who ever came to see me. The only one who still looked at me without disgust. The only person I could trust. I took a deep breath. “I want to overturn the verdict. I want to clear my name.” Silence. I thought she’d hang up. I thought maybe she'd given up on me. “Emily, I’ve been looking for evidence all this time. I just need seven more days. Seven days, and I’ll get you justice.” Something in me cracked. My chest hurt, but it wasn’t pain, it was relief. “Thank you.” When the call ended, I looked around. The streets were empty. The sky was dark. I had nowhere to go. No home. No family. No one was waiting. Except him. And the house we once shared still had pieces of my daughter in it. Amy’s shoes. Her drawings. Her laughter buried in the walls. So I walked. For hours. Until my feet went numb and bleeding. When I reached the house, I stood at the gate for a long time. Justine hadn’t even changed the lock. My hands were trembling when I press the code. The door opened easily. Inside, everything looked the same. The furniture. The curtains. Even the smell. The only thing missing was the family photo that used to hang in the living room. For a second, I almost believed I’d just stepped out yesterday and come back today. Then I heard a sound behind me. My heart froze. When I turned around, he was standing there. Justine. He was holding an umbrella, rain dripping from his coat. His dark eyes locked on me, unreadable. We didn’t speak. We just stared. I was expecting Cerise to appear behind him, but she didn’t. He was alone. After a moment, he set the umbrella aside and said quietly, “When did you get back? You should’ve called me. I would’ve picked you up.” I didn’t answer. I just watched him walk into the bathroom, moving like nothing was wrong, like none of it had ever happened. He came back with a new towel, holding it out to me. I didn’t take it. “I know the way... So I came back myself.” He didn’t even flinch. He just turned and poured tea, the way he used to after long days at the firm. “Drink some hot water. Don’t catch a cold.” Steam rose from the cup, fogging the space between us. I took it, holding it tight in both hands, “Justine, don’t you think it’s time we talked about what happened ten years ago?” “What happened back then is already settled. You’ve been released. Isn’t that enough? Why keep digging into it?” I stared at him. Why bother pursuing it? My daughter died. I was locked up for ten years for something I didn’t do. And now I wasn’t even allowed to ask why? The room tilted. My vision blurred. I felt myself losing balance when I heard his voice. “Emily!” He rushed toward me. For a second, I thought he might actually care. But then his phone rang. “Hello?” His voice changed immediately. “Sofie’s crying? I’ll be right there.” That sound pulled me back years ago to when Amy was still alive. Justine used to be strict with her. Too strict. He loved her, but he never showed it the way a father should. He always said, “Girls should be strong. Don’t cry.” So even when Amy fell and scraped her knees or hit her head, she’d bite back the tears, trying to earn her father’s praise. And now, Cerise’s daughter only had to cry once, and Justine came running? I gripped the armrest just to stay standing, refusing to fall in front of him. “I have to go,” he said softly. “Something urgent came up. You should rest here. Don’t think too much. Call me if you need anything.” When the door closed, the house fell silent. Too silent. I sat there for a while before finally standing up. My body still felt heavy, but I wanted to see Amy’s room. Maybe I could find her photo album. Something. Anything. When I opened the door, my breath caught. The room was empty. Completely stripped. Even the little drawings she used to make on the wall were painted over. There was nothing left. Not a single trace of her. He erased our child. I slid down the wall, shaking. My scream came out broken, raw, echoing through the hollow room until my voice gave out. When I could finally move again, I went to the master bedroom. My head was spinning, but a small part of me still hoped Justine had kept something—maybe a ballet shoes, or a photo, hidden somewhere. But when I walked in, I froze. Everything here looked exactly the same. My clothes were still in the closet. My perfume was still on the dresser. The sheets were neatly folded, like I’d never left. Why erase our daughter’s memory but keep mine? I started opening drawers one by one, not even sure what I was looking for. Then I saw it: a box of condoms, freshly opened, tucked inside the bedside table. My stomach twisted.

So that was why. He’d kept this room for their games. Maybe it thrilled him to touch her mistress in the same bed we once shared, surrounded by my things. I felt sick. I ran to the bathroom and threw up until there was nothing left in me. My whole body hurts. My chest burned. I couldn’t stand it anymore. The tiles felt cold against my skin as I fell to the floor, the edges of the room fading into black. When I opened my eyes again, the light was already creeping in through the curtains. My head felt heavy, and every part of me ached. I was lying on that same bed I used to share with him. Justine was standing next to the bed. He didn’t say anything. He just stood there, watching me. His face looked calm, too calm, but there was something in his eyes I couldn’t name. For a second, I thought I saw pity. Maybe even love. But I knew better than to believe that. “Since we’ve come to this point, why don’t you just throw my things away? Let Cerise move in. Isn’t that what you both want?” I tried to sit up, but my body felt weak. “Is this your idea of excitement? Sleeping with her in the same bed, surrounded by my things?” His face changed instantly. I could tell he was furious, “You know about Cerise?” “I saw you both yesterday... I saw her holding your hand. I saw the kid.” He didn’t even flinch. “We do have a child.” Something in me broke again. My hands shook, “I remember when we first got married,” my voice trembling. “You used to keep me up all night, saying you couldn’t get enough of me. You said you wanted me so much you could lose your mind.” I laughed bitterly. “You said if you could, you’d keep me inside you forever. That way, I’d always belong to you.” He didn’t say a word. He just stood there, looking away. “The man who said that… now belongs to someone else,” I whispered. “Tell me, Justine. If you’re so happy with her, why not divorce me? Why make me live through this?” He finally looked at me. “Divorce you? In a week, the Judicial Council will announce the new appointees. I can’t risk it, Emily. I can’t give them a reason to doubt me.” He paused, then added quietly, “Once this week is over, we’ll get the divorce.” I stared at him. Suddenly everything made sense. Why Cerise and her daughter never stayed here. Why were my clothes still in the closet... Why did he still pretend this was a home... He didn’t keep them for love. He kept them for his reputation. Pathetic. He was still the same coward. Cerise’s father had been his mentor. Her older brother was his close friend, too. I still remember the day he told me about her. “She’s my teacher’s daughter, and my friend’s sister,” he said. “She’s young, immature. Don’t take her seriously.” And when I got jealous, when I wanted to confront her, he held me close and whispered, “Her father’s done so much for me. I don’t want to ruin our relationship over petty things. Trust me. I’ll keep my distance from her.” I believed him. That night, after Justine left for work, I went to my daughter’s old room. It was the only place left that still felt like mine. When I opened my eyes that morning, I felt something warm over me. A blanket. Thin, rough, but tucked around my shoulders. For a second, I just stared at it, trying to figure out where it came from. Then I realized—it had to be Justine. I pulled the blanket off and threw it to the floor. It felt filthy against my skin. My phone buzzed. A message from Lila. “I’m trying to hurry up here. You can also look for clues.” Clues. I stared at the screen for a moment, then turned toward the master bedroom. The door was still half open. Then I heard laughter. Soft, sweet laughter that didn’t belong here. When I reached the bottom, I saw them. Justine and Cerise, standing together in the open kitchen.

The morning light hit her hair, his arm was around her waist, and their bodies moved close. Too close. I felt my stomach twist. Justine turned when he heard me. His face went pale for a moment, but then he forced a smile. There was a lipstick mark near his mouth. Bright. Obvious. He didn’t even try to wipe it off. “Cerise, why are you here?” Justine spoke before she could answer. “She just wanted to come see you. She heard you were out. Cerise helped me a lot while you were… gone. She even visited the cemetery every year. Took care of the grave. Brought flowers. Toys. Even ballet shoes.” For a second, I couldn’t breathe. My chest felt tight, my heart pounding hard enough to drown everything else out. “What did you say?” I whispered. Then my voice rose before I could stop it. “What right does she have to go there?! Huh! What right does she have to visit my daughter’s grave?” I could feel myself shaking. “No murderer has the right to stand there. None.” Justine didn’t look at me. His eyes went to the floor, his voice quiet. “I already asked someone to perform a ritual. The child has acknowledged her as her godmother.” Everything inside me went still. It felt like the blood in my veins turned into knives. The fucking what? A godmother? Then Cerise started walking toward me. She was holding a bouquet, “Emily,” she said softly, handing it to me. “These are for you. Congratulations on your new life.” The smell of those flowers hit me before I could even answer. Too sweet. Too strong. My skin started to crawl. It spread fast, an unbearable itch, crawling up my arms, my neck, my face. And all I could think was that everything about her—her voice, her smile, her scent—was poison. I slapped the flowers out of her hand. They hit the floor, petals scattering across the tiles. I didn’t even have the strength to yell. What was the point? They’d already taken everything from me. I turned around and took a few shaky steps, but then I heard it: Cerise’s voice behind me. “0621!” The word cut through me. My body reacted before my brain could. “Here!” I said automatically. For a second, I didn’t understand why I said it. Then I heard her laugh. That sharp, mocking laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry, Emily,” she said between giggles. “I heard people who’ve been in prison react like that, so I wanted to try it. Just a joke.” I turned around slowly. Justine was standing there, his hand on her arm. “That’s enough,” he said quietly. “Don’t make jokes like that again.” Cerise blinked up at him, smiling. “Okay.” The way they looked at each other made my stomach twist. Right in front of me, they still couldn’t stop. Still flirting, still touching, as if I wasn’t even there. All I could think about was that open box of condoms upstairs. My heart went cold. ..... By evening, I couldn’t take it anymore. I met Lila at a small restaurant. The light there was dim, warm, familiar. When she saw me, her eyes widened. “Emily, you look awful. Why don’t you move in with me for a while?” I shook my head. “No need. Just… help me find the evidence fast. Please.” She didn’t push. Just ordered a table full of food and said softly, “Eat something. You look like you haven’t eaten in days.” I barely had time to lift a spoon before I saw her. Cerise. She walked in with her daughter, dressed perfectly, smiling as if she owned the world. My heart stopped for a second when I saw the little girl. I couldn’t stop staring. But she noticed. Of course she noticed. She pulled her daughter close and said loudly, “Sofie, be good, alright? There’s a murderer here. She killed her own child. If you don’t behave, the police will take you away too.” I froze. Then she looked right at me and smiled. “Emily, it’s been ten years. Are you still used to eating out here?” The whole restaurant went silent. I felt the weight of every single eye turn toward me. I could hear the whispers. “That’s her?” “She killed her daughter?” “She doesn’t look crazy…” Their voices cut deeper than knives. Ten years in prison, and I still hadn’t escaped. When they found out what I’d supposedly done, they all turned on me. Made me clean their mess, eat leftovers from the floor, take beatings that left my skin raw. Every time someone said “child killer,” I felt like dying. Even now, hearing her say those words, my body started shaking. My throat burned. Then I heard Lila’s voice—sharp and furious. “Cerise, you’re the murderer!”

Before I could stop her, she threw a glass of water right into Cerise’s face. Cerise gasped, stumbling back, while her daughter Sofie crying beside her. And that was when the door opened. A tall figure walked in, his voice cutting through the chaos. “What’s going on here?” Justine. Of course. He always showed up when she needed saving. The moment he walked in, Cerise’s whole face changed. Her eyes turned red, and she clutched her daughter tight, shaking as if she was the one who’d been wronged. “I just wanted to treat Emily to dinner,” she said in a trembling voice. “I don’t even know what I did wrong. She got angry and told her friend to hurt my child…” The little girl pointed straight at me, crying. “Bad woman! You bully my mom! I hate you. I hate you! You killed your own child.” I froze. My throat tightened. Before I could even speak, Justine’s face turned dark. He stepped forward, placing himself between us like I was some danger to them. “You’ve had a child before, Emily!” His voice cut through me. “Why can’t you be kind to another one?” The words hit harder than any slap. Yes, I’d had a child. My baby. My little girl who used to laugh when Justine threw her in the air. The baby he once held so tenderly, kissing my forehead and whispering, “Thank you for completing my life.” But he ruined mine. And then came the voices behind him. “Isn’t that Emily? The one who went to jail?” “She used to brag about being a brilliant doctor. Guess she couldn’t save her own kid.” “Imagine killing your own daughter. What a monster.” I looked up and saw a few of his colleagues walking in, all staring at me. I didn’t even bother to defend myself. What was the point? Justine lowered his voice and said coldly, “Go home. Stop embarrassing yourself.” Cerise smoothed her dress, wiped her face, and started greeting his colleagues like she was the wife of the house. I grabbed Lila’s wrist before she could speak and pulled her toward the door. I didn’t say anything. My face felt numb. As we walked out, Justine’s eyes flickered toward me. For a moment, he looked almost human, almost regretful, when he saw the scars on my arms. But he didn’t say a word. After I sent Lila home, I bought ballons, candles, and small toys. Then I took a taxi to the cemetery. ..... When I saw the grave, my knees nearly gave out. Weeds everywhere. The soil was cracked, untouched. No one had been here. Not once. And then I saw it. Someone had written two words in red paint across the tombstone: bastard. I froze. My chest felt tight, my vision went blurry. I stumbled forward and started rubbing the paint with my hands, crying her name. “No, no, no…” The paint wouldn’t come off. It mixed with my blood until the word stood out darker, redder, uglier. I kept scrubbing until my palms split open. Until I couldn’t breathe. Until I fell to my knees and screamed. Then the rain came heavy, cold, soaking everything. I don’t know how long I cried. By the time I stopped, the sky was gray. I went to find someone to make a new tombstone, cleaned the weeds, wiped the mud off her photo, and lined up the toys in front of her grave. My voice shook when I whispered, “Mom will make them pay. All of them.” By the time I got home, the sky was starting to lighten. The door hadn’t even closed behind me when Justine’s voice came from the living room. “Didn’t I tell you to go home?! Where were you? I called all night! Do you even know—” He stopped when I walked past him. I didn’t even look his way. “Today’s our daughter’s death anniversary,” I said quietly. And before I could take another step, everything went black. When I came to, I heard a voice through the haze. It sounded soft, tired. Maybe it was him. “Emily… I’m sorry.” Then a ringing sound broke through, sharp and real. I opened my eyes to an empty room. Just a dream. The phone kept ringing. I reached for it and answered. When my phone rang, I didn’t even check who it was. My hands were shaking too much. But when I heard Lila’s voice, my chest tightened. “Emily,” she said, her tone trembling and excited. “I found it. I found proof that Cerise was the one who killed your daughter.”

For a second, I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t even think. I just ran out of the house. My heart was pounding so loud it hurt. When I met Lila, she handed me a small USB. Her eyes darted around, nervous. “This has a recording,” she whispered. “Cerise admits it herself. She said she hit her. Killed her. You need to bring this to court. Go straight to the judge. The judge is new. Not Cerise broher. I can’t be seen with you right now.” I didn’t ask questions. I just nodded and left. By the time I got to the courthouse, my clothes were damp with sweat. The assistant told me the Chief Justice wasn’t there yet and asked me to wait inside his office. I stood by the table, gripping the USB so tight my fingers went white. My whole body felt wired. I couldn’t sit. I couldn’t even blink. Then I heard the door open behind me. I turned fast, expecting to see the judge. But my body went cold. It was Cerise. She walked in with two bodyguards behind her, wearing a soft pink dress and that same fake smile she always had. “Sister Emily,” she said sweetly, “what are you doing in my dad’s office?” My mind froze. Her father was the Chief Justice. “I went the wrong way,” I muttered. “I was looking for Justine.” I tried to move toward the door, but she stepped in my way. Her voice turned sharp. “Really? Or were you planning to overturn your conviction with some secret recording?” My stomach dropped. She knew? I bolted for the exit, but the bodyguards caught me before I could take two steps. One of them slammed me to the floor. My cheek hit the tile. Pain shot through my arm. Before I could even cry out, a sharp heel came down on my hand. I screamed. The USB was still in my fist, but I felt my grip slipping as she crushed it under her shoe. “This is the court!” I gasped. “If you dare to touch me here, you’ll regret it!” Cerise knelt down, her perfume stinging my nose. She pried the USB from my bleeding hand and twirled it between her fingers. “This little thing?” she said softly. “This is what you came here for?” “Give it back to me!” My voice cracked. She smiled and plugged it into the computer on the desk. “Let’s see what’s inside then. Since you’re so confident.” I froze as the audio started playing. It wasn’t Cerise’s voice. It was Justine’s. His voice was low, heavy with lust. “Ceri… you’re amazing…” Cerise giggled. “What about Emily?” “She can’t compare to you.” The room started spinning. My throat closed. The sound of them breathing, whispering it made me sick. I ran to the trash bin and threw up. Cerise covered her nose and laughed softly. “Pathetic. Your husband betrayed you, and your best friend used you. What do you even have left?” I stared at the floor, shaking. Her words didn’t even hurt anymore. I felt hollow. Empty. Lila had been visiting me in prison for ten years. She said she believed me. Said she’d never leave me. She cried with me, prayed with me. And yet... she sold me out. Before I could react, someone punched me in the stomach. I lost consciousness. When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the cold. My body was pressed against the damp floor. It smelled of rust and mold. For a moment, I couldn’t move. Then I heard it—dripping. Slow, steady. Drip. Drip. Drip. I turned my head. Water was leaking from the ceiling, sliding down the cracked walls, gathering around me. It was rising, inch by inch. The shock of it stole my breath! It was ice-cold, seeping through my clothes, biting my skin until I could barely feel anything. My teeth began to chatter. I tried to move, but my limbs were heavy, stiff. When I pushed myself up, the chains on my wrists rattled. From outside the iron door, I heard Cerise’s voice. “Watch her carefully,” she said. Her tone was lazy, almost amused. “Justine said she can suffer, but she can’t die here.” Justine? I laughed a little. It came out broken. He was part of this too. Should I feel angry? Should I scream his name? But all I felt was emptiness. The water reached my waist. My body trembled violently, but inside I was quiet. Hollow. I leaned my head against the wall, listening to the sound of my own breath turning ragged. I thought that was how I’d die... frozen in that dark basement, alone. I didn’t cry in prison. I didn’t cry when Cerise crushed my fingers under her heel. Even when the water rose higher, when my lips turned blue and my lungs began to ache, I didn’t shed a tear. But when I thought of my daughter, of how Amy’s death would never be avenged, how her killer was still smiling and loved... I broke. The tears came on their own. Hot, helpless, disappearing into the freezing water. I used whatever strength I had left to drag myself toward the door. My hands shook. My voice was gone. I wanted to call for help, but my throat burned. No sound came out. Then, just before everything faded, I heard someone shouting my name. “Emily!” The door flew open.

Justine ran in. His face looked wild, desperate. He lifted me into his arms. I could hear him whispering telling me to wake up, saying sorry over and over. The world went black. When I opened my eyes again, I was in a hospital bed. My body hurt everywhere. Justine was sitting beside me, eyes lowered. “This is just a small punishment,” he said flatly. “You should learn from it. Stop bringing up the past. Don’t hurt Cerese or her daughter again.” My vision was blurry, but I looked at him anyway. My voice came out small. “Who’s hurting who?” He didn’t answer. His jaw clenched. Then he turned and walked out. For the next three days, he came to visit me. Brought food. Adjusted my pillows. Acted like we were still husband and wife. Like he hadn’t thrown me to hell. On the fourth day, he came in wearing a suit. “Tomorrow’s my promotion ceremony,” he said, almost smiling. I waited, thinking he’d bring up the divorce. Maybe finally let me go. But instead, he said, “I told you before I’d never let you down. I meant it. As long as you want, you’ll always be Mrs. Halley” I stared at him, stunned, and then I laughed. It came from deep in my chest, bitter and ugly. “If this isn’t betrayal,” I said quietly, “then what is it? You already destroyed me. Isn’t that enough?” Before I could finish, his phone rang. His face changed as soon as he answered. “I’ll be right there!” He rushed out, leaving me staring at the door. The sedatives kicked in soon after. My eyes grew heavy, but before I fell asleep, I made up my mind. I was leaving the hospital tomorrow. When I opened my eyes again, I wasn’t in a hospital. The air was cold. My hair whipped around my face. I was standing at the edge of a cliff. Below me, the ocean roared. In front of me stood Justine, his face pale and hard. “Because of you,” he said slowly, “Cerese left with my daughter. You need to apologize. Swear you’ll never try to clear your name again. Tell her you were wrong and beg her to come back.” His voice was colder than the wind. “Impossible,” I said. My throat hurt, but I didn’t care. He took a step closer. I didn’t move. For the first time, I wasn’t afraid. “This started with you,” Justine said. “Only you can end it.” He took a step back, and that’s when I saw it. A black urn sitting by his feet. My breath stopped. I didn’t need to look twice to know what it was. Ten years ago, I held that same urn against my chest, walked out of the funeral home, and buried it with my own hands. My daughter’s ashes. My knees went weak. “Justine, what are you doing? Are you insane?” My voice cracked halfway. I could barely believe what I was seeing. He looked calm, too calm, standing there in the cold wind with Amy’s ashes at his feet. He just sneered. “You’re the one who’s insane. She’s dead, Emily. But I’m still alive.” He tugged at his tie, his patience slipping. “You don’t get it. Cerise’s father is my superior. If Cerese doesn’t come back, he’ll destroy me. Everything I’ve worked for! All these years, it’ll be gone.” I just stared at him. I couldn’t even breathe. He was talking about promotions. Careers. While holding our child’s ashes. “You’re really doing this?” I whispered. “She’s your daughter, Justine. Your own flesh and blood.” He didn’t even look at me. Instead, he picked up a lighter. He held it over the photo album sitting on the rock nearby, the one filled with our pictures. His hand didn’t even shake as he flicked it on. “No, don’t!” I tried to run, but the bodyguard behind me grabbed my shoulders and pushed me down. The flame caught fast. The edges of the first page curled. Amy’s tiny face smiled up at me before the fire ate it. When the first page turned black, I remembered being fifteen, when my parents divorced and left me behind. Justine held my hand and said we’d face everything together. When the second page burned, I saw the beach in my mind. We were eighteen, barefoot, laughing, running until sunset. He hugged me tight and said he’d give me the best future. When the third page fell apart in flames, I saw him kneeling in front of me, holding a fake diamond ring, tears in his eyes, promising me that one day he’d make it real. Each memory turned to ash right in front of me. He’d reached his “highest position.” And he didn’t need me anymore. “It’s almost morning,” he said, glancing at his watch. “You don’t have much time left.” Then he lifted the urn. It hit me what he was about to do. He was going to throw Amy’s ashes off the cliff. My heart felt like it was on fire. I dropped to my knees. My forehead hit the stone hard. I didn’t even feel the pain. “I’m sorry, Cerise” I said hoarsely. “I shouldn’t have tried to clear my name. I was wrong.” Another bow, harder this time. “I’m sorry, Cerise. I shouldn’t have gone against you and your child. I was wrong.” Blood ran down my face. My vision blurred. I kept going. “I’m sorry, Cerise. I shouldn’t have come back. I shouldn’t have taken what was yours. I was wrong.” The bodyguard’s boots shuffled behind me, and I heard Justine’s voice again. “Is the recording done?” Someone answered yes. He stopped me then. Pulled out his phone and called Cerise. “It’s done,” he said. Her voice came through, light and pleased. “Then come pick me up. Sofie and I will live with you from now on.” “Of course,” he said softly. He turned back to me after the call. “Emily, go home first. We’ll talk later.” Then he walked away. I stayed there, kneeling, shaking, my face wet with blood and tears. I had waited for him for ten years. I had believed him through everything. And this was how it ended. Something in me snapped. I pushed myself up. The bodyguards didn’t expect it. I broke free, ran straight to the cliff, and grabbed the urn. “Emily!” Justine shouted, spinning around.