Chapter 4Three Million From My Frozen Mother

She hung up the phone without another word, immediately blocking Lou's number.

Hovering in the air, my soul watched as she severed my very last lifeline.

My heart died in that moment.

She adjusted her dress, painted a perfect, dazzling smile back onto her face, and walked back into the center of the party.

Chelsea strolled over, holding a glass of champagne, raising her voice so everyone could hear.

"Evelyn, it's such a great party. Why didn't you invite your mom to come see how the other half lives?"

I saw Evelyn’s shoulders stiffen for a fraction of a second.

Then, she casually tossed her hair back and laughed.

"Oh, you mean Helen, our housekeeper?"

"Her family had an emergency today, so she couldn't make it."

"My actual mom is overseas most of the year managing her international business. She's so busy we barely see each other."

Our housekeeper.

Even though I knew she was only trying to save face in front of her wealthy classmates, the words cut like a knife.

To her, I wasn't even worthy of being called her mother.

Slowly, my spirit form began to turn translucent, drifting away.

...

The next morning, Evelyn woke up in a guest room at Chelsea’s mansion.

She reached for her phone, habitually checking to see if I had sent any more pathetic messages.

Nothing.

Not a single text.

She smirked, thinking I had finally learned my lesson.

Ding.

An automated notification popped up. It was a tuition reminder from the ballet academy.

Staring at the cold, clinical demand for fifty thousand dollars, Evelyn felt a wave of frustration. She opened our chat and began typing furiously.

Where's the money? Did you get the fifty thousand dollars yet?

Don't play dead with me. If I don't have the tuition by the end of the day, I am cutting you out of my life for good!

She hit send, expecting me to immediately beg for her forgiveness as I always did.

But minutes turned into hours, and the screen remained blank.

Are you dead? Answer me!

I'm counting to three. If you don't reply, don't ever expect to see me again!

Helen, I am warning you!

Her messages vanished into a silent void.

Evelyn’s patience finally snapped. A blind fury took over. She threw herself out of bed, determined to go back to the apartment and tear into me in person.

She kicked the front door open.

"Helen! Get your ass out here right now!"

The apartment was freezing. The stove was cold; there was no smell of food, no sign of life.

"Where are you hiding? Do you think hiding means you don't have to take responsibility?!"

She began tearing the place apart, throwing water glasses against the wall and throwing cushions onto the floor to vent her rage.

In the middle of her tantrum, a heavy knock sounded at the door.

Thinking I had finally crept back home, she lunged at the door and ripped it open, her face twisted in anger.

But standing on the threshold were two solemn-faced police officers.

"Are you Evelyn Davies?" the older officer asked.

"Yes. What do you want?" Evelyn snapped.

The officer verified her ID, his expression turning grim.

"Miss Davies, we are very sorry to inform you, but your mother, Helen Davies, has passed away."

Evelyn froze for a second. Then, a sharp, cynical laugh escaped her lips as she crossed her arms.

"Officers, you must have the wrong person."

"My mother is fine. Did she hire you to play along with her little act?"

"I've seen her sob stories my whole life. I know exactly what she's doing."

The older officer’s jaw clenched, his eyes burning with a quiet, suppressed fury.

His younger partner, unable to maintain the same restraint, reached into an evidence bag and held an item out to her.

It was a pair of old, worn ballet slippers.

I had hand-stitched the tears in them multiple times; the satin at the toes was worn down to a dull grey.

"This was recovered next to your mother's body."

Looking at those slippers, Evelyn’s laugh withered on her face. Her hands began to tremble uncontrollably.

But she kept pushing. "She really went all out this time, didn't she? Even got the props right."

"Where is she? Is she waiting around the corner to see my reaction?"

"That is enough!" the older officer barked, his voice echoing in the small hallway.

"Evelyn, your mother was trapped in a sub-zero industrial freezer for over eight hours!"

"The metal door was covered in her blood where she clawed at it with her bare fingernails!"