Chapter 3

Aliyah stood in her walk-in closet, the scent of Benedict' s cologne hanging in the air like a ghost. Her hand rested on a small, velvet box on his dresser. Inside was the first pair of cufflinks she had ever bought him, simple silver knots. He was just a struggling junior programmer back then, full of big dreams and a self-deprecating charm. She was the one who saw his potential. Her father, a respected history professor, had mentored him, connected him, treated him like the son he never had.

She remembered Benedict' s proposal, on a blanket under the stars after they had just secured their first round of funding. "I' ll spend my whole life making you happy, Aliyah," he had promised, his eyes shining with what she thought was love. "I' ll protect you and our family from everything."

A bitter, humorless laugh escaped her lips. What a fool she had been.

Benedict' s voice echoed from the hallway, pulling her from the past. "Aliyah, are you ready? People are starting to arrive for the memorial."

She put on the black dress he had laid out for her, feeling like a doll being positioned for a play. He led her downstairs, his hand on the small of her back a proprietary, repulsive touch.

The memorial was being held at their home, a sprawling modern house she had designed. It was supposed to be a place of love and laughter. Now, it was a tomb.

The first thing that hit her was the music. It wasn' t the somber classical quartet she had requested. Instead, a loud, thumping pop song with an obnoxious bass line echoed through the open-plan living room. It was one of those vapid, brainless songs Leo had heard on the radio and hated.

Her eyes scanned the crowd of mourners, their faces a blur of polite sympathy. And then she saw her.

Kendall Orr.

She was standing near Leo' s small, white casket, which was surrounded by a mountain of white lilies. She was wearing a tight, inappropriately short black dress. And she was taking a selfie. She held her phone up, pouted her lips in a classic duck face, and snapped a picture with her son' s coffin in the background.

A wave of pure, unadulterated rage surged through Aliyah. She broke away from Benedict' s grip and marched towards the girl.

"What the hell do you think you' re doing?" Aliyah' s voice was a low snarl.

Kendall looked up, her expression one of wide-eyed innocence. "Oh! Ms. Williams. I was just... paying my respects." She posted the photo to her Instagram story with a flippant caption: "Saying bye to the little man. 😢 #sad #rip."

Aliyah' s hand shot out and slapped the phone from Kendall' s grasp. It clattered to the marble floor.

"Get out," Aliyah hissed. "Get out of my house. Now."

Kendall' s lower lip began to tremble. Tears welled in her eyes. It was a masterful performance. "I' m so sorry," she whimpered. "I didn' t mean any disrespect. This is just... my generation' s way of grieving. And Leo... he loved this song."

"That' s a lie!" Aliyah screamed, the sound tearing through the party music. "He hated that song! You know nothing about my son!"

Benedict was there instantly, pulling her back, his grip like iron on her arm. He put himself between her and Kendall, shielding the younger woman.

"Aliyah, stop it! You' re making a scene!" he whispered harshly in her ear.

"She' s desecrating our son' s memorial!" Aliyah cried, struggling against him. "Make her leave!"

"She' s grieving in her own way," Benedict said, his voice loud enough for the nearby guests to hear. He was playing to the crowd. "Kendall was very close to Leo. Maybe closer than you were, with your business trips and board meetings."

The words were a calculated strike, designed to wound and to isolate her. The murmurs started around them. People shifted uncomfortably, their sympathetic glances turning to ones of judgment.

"I can' t believe you' re defending her," Aliyah said, her voice dropping to a shocked whisper. "Look at her. Look at what she' s doing."

Kendall, seeing her opening, began to sob dramatically. "I' m sorry, Mr. Howard. I shouldn' t have come. It' s just... I feel so guilty. Maybe if I had been a better nanny... but Ms. Williams always said I was too soft on him. She said he needed to be more independent."

It was another lie, a venomous twist of a conversation they' d never had.

"You lying bitch," Aliyah spat, lunging forward again.

This time, Benedict shoved her back, hard. "That' s enough!"

The crowd gasped. He had put his hands on her in front of everyone.

Kendall picked that exact moment to play her trump card. "I... I have a video," she said, her voice shaking as she retrieved her phone from the floor. "I didn' t want to show anyone, but... you all need to see how much he missed his mom."

She held up the phone, angling the screen for everyone to see.