He Killed My Grandmother for His First Love

Chapter 4

I stared at the chaotic mess in front of me, completely losing control. I dropped to my knees, desperately trying to scoop my grandmother's ashes back into the urn. My tears mixed with the dust of her remains, only to be washed away by the relentless rain.

"Grandma… Grandma…"

But no matter how hard I tried, there was no fixing this. My grandmother was gone, and nothing, nothing, could bring her back.

Elaina, hearing my cries, feigned sympathy and stepped toward me, her voice all fake sweetness.

"Charlee, what are you saying? Is this… your grandmother's ashes?"

Before she could get too close, Phillip yanked her back by the arm, his voice dripping with disdain.

"Don't go near her. It's dirty."

"Charlee, you've lost it."

"You brought some random box of ashes to stage this… this tragic scene. Do you honestly think I'm going to fall for this?"

I froze at his words. I was a lawyer, for God's sake. I'd handled more than my fair share of pro bono cases for elderly people with no family, some of whom I'd personally helped with their final arrangements. Phillip always hated it. He'd call the elderly "germ-riddled" and scold me for getting involved with them. Back then, I figured he just didn't understand my empathy. But now? Now, it was clear: this was my grandmother's ashes. And here he was, standing over them like they were nothing more than dirt.

Kneeling in the pouring rain, I looked up at him, my voice trembling but resolute.

"Phillip, you disgust me."

He didn't even flinch. His gaze was cold, filled with contempt. He stood there for what felt like forever, his disdain so thick in the air I could almost taste it. Then, as if to make his point even clearer, he ground my grandmother's ashes deeper into the mud with his shiny leather shoes, sneering as he spoke.

"So now you're insisting these old bones are your grandmother, huh? Fine, Charlee. I'll pretend they are. But honestly, who knows what kind of disease she could've had?"

I blinked, struggling to process his words. Was I hearing him right?

"Wasn't she bitten by Ryan? Maybe she had rabies. I'm just doing you a favor, cleaning her up."

The venom in his voice twisted something deep inside me. This was the same man who had once promised me he'd help take care of my grandmother in her old age. And now? Now, he was desecrating her even in death.

I lunged forward, grabbing onto his leg, but instead of stopping, he just pressed harder, the weight of his contempt pinning me down. I thought I heard something crack under the pressure, but the pain barely registered. He didn't care. He never had.

I didn't know when he stopped. I only knew that I was lying there, exhausted, in the rain, my body wracked with hurt.

Then, in the distance, I heard Elaina gasp in pain.

"Phillip, my hand hurts so much."

Through my blurred vision, I saw him immediately turn back to her, scooping her up into his arms like she was the only one who mattered.

"Why is there so much blood? Does it still hurt, Elaina?"

"I'm fine, Phillip. But Charlee… she needs to go to the doctor. Her hand looks hurt, too."

"Why bother with her? Elaina, you're too kind. If Charlee had the strength to carry that urn, then she's got the strength to walk herself to the hospital. She's faking it."

And just like that, they walked away together, Phillip's arms wrapped around Elaina as they disappeared into the night.