12
Adrian rushed to the doorway, scooping Bella off the ground and racing her to the ER. Jonah, seeing his dad run off, hesitated, then spun back to me, his little face twisted in anger. “Bad mom! I hate you. You made Dad fight, and now Bella’s hurt because of you. I don’t want you to be my mom anymore!”
I looked at the little boy in front of me, and for a moment, I felt a strange sense of nostalgia. When Jonah was first born, I adored him, this sweet little baby who would call out for me, clinging close to me every day. He was, at the time, my only salvation.
I don’t understand how Bella’s influence could be so powerful. That innocent child I once loved had become someone entirely unfamiliar to me, molded by Bella and Ethan’s constant meddling. But since Jonah was someone I had genuinely loved, I decided to give him a farewell gift he’d never forget.
I called Jonah over and asked him to go to the room next door and borrow a paring knife. Jonah, thinking I’d leave Bella alone if I had the knife, cheerfully fetched it for me.
He crossed his arms with satisfaction. “There, happy? Now don’t bother Bella anymore.”
I couldn’t help but smirk.
“Hold on,” I said, “I have one last present for you.”
With Jonah watching, I raised the knife to my throat and slashed. Blood sprayed out, splattering across his face.
This, I thought, was the unforgettable gift I intended to leave him.
