What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Stronger novel Chapter 6

The housekeeper took one look inside the box and recoiled as though he'd been electrocuted, flinging it away from him.

The contents spilled across the polished marble floor with a sickening thud.

Inside the festive red gift box sat a smaller, dark crimson urn. Its contents now scattered across the floor, fine powdery ash mixed with tiny bone fragments.

Hektor lurched forward, his legs barely cooperating. With trembling hands, he picked up a small red booklet among the ashes.

His pupils constricted to pinpoints when he realized what he was holding: divorce papers with his signature on them.

"What the fuck?" he whispered hoarsely. "I never signed any—"

Then he flipped it open to find a death certificate nestled inside.

With his mother-in-law's name printed in stark black letters.

"This—this isn't real," he stammered, his voice rising with panic. "It's fucking impossible. This has to be some sick joke!"

When he'd left that day, her head had barely been bleeding—just a minor injury, nothing life-threatening.

"Yunifer!" he bellowed, whirling toward the stairs. "What kind of sick game are you playing?!"

"Get Yunifer down here NOW!" he demanded, his voice cracking as he fixed wild, bloodshot eyes on the housekeeper.

A maid stepped forward hesitantly. "Sir... I—I saw madam leave with her suitcase about an hour ago."

"Left?" Hektor's voice dropped to a horrified whisper.

His legs gave out, and he crumpled onto the floor among the scattered ashes.

Since Yunifer's release from prison, no gallery would touch her work. No studio would hire her. He'd made sure of that.

He'd given her no access to their accounts. She had nothing.