Chapter 71

Florence Love Seymour’s birth was very ordinary and normal.

It was when Grace was 6 years old. Mother announced she was pregnant with a third child. The whole family was very happy about the new life. By the time the baby was born, Grace would be 7 and Blake would be 4.

“When my sibling is born, I’ll be so good to them. I’ll do everything.”

“Are you happy about having a sibling, Blake?”

“Yeah! I’m happy! They’ll be cute, right? Will it be a girl or a boy?”

“Hmm, I hope it’s a little sister.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I can protect her. I’ll give her everything.”

Blake pressed his ear against Mother’s round belly and whispered that he wanted to meet the baby soon. He was still young and shined with excitement at the idea of a sibling.

But Blake probably didn’t remember that, before Florence was born, things weren’t good between them.

Blake was bright and innocent, while Grace was smart and mature for her age. The 4-year age difference was big, and their personalities were completely different. Blake was tired of and afraid of his sister, who only bullied him, so he longed for the presence of a younger sibling. Grace snorted.

“That baby will hate you too, Blake.”

“That’s not true! You’re a liar!”

“It’s true. I hate you too.”

“Ugh…”

“I don’t even want to see you. Go away.”

“Wahhh! Mom!”

“Grace! Don’t make your little brother cry!”

Grace was jealous. She had always been the center of attention and didn’t like sharing her parents’ love with her younger brother. Now, she’d have to share with the baby in Mother’s belly too, and that made her angry.

“But Mom, you only care about Blake. Play with me.”

“Even if you’re upset, you have to endure it to be a good child.”

“I guess I’m not a good child then.”

“I know you’re a very good child, Grace. But mean words will also hurt your own heart.”

“It doesn’t hurt at all.”

Grace even tried to kick Mother’s belly, pretending it was a game, though she always failed.

She hated the baby even before it was born, and then the baby took Mother’s life.

Two parents became one, and now the love had to be shared not by two children but by three. Grace, at 7 years old, felt this was unfair.

“Dad, that thing killed Mom. It ripped her belly open and was born from her body. It came from a corpse.”

“Grace, watch your words.”

“Dad, please get rid of it. I can’t stand it. I hate it so much. Bring Mom back…”

Tears streamed down Grace’s face as she clung to her father. Her words carved themselves deeply into the Marquis Seymour’s mind. He pitied and loved his daughter, who had lost her mother. His grief, guilt, and despair clouded his mind. He wasn’t thinking clearly.

Grace tried to take advantage of that weakness and get rid of the baby. Servants and nannies tried to protect the baby, but Grace didn’t stop.

“Ahhh! Get that thing away! I hate it, Dad!”

“Grace, please calm down. Please, don’t do this.”

“Dad, Dad, please save me. Save me…”

Babies usually cry all night, seeking warmth. Grace had fits even at the distant sound of the baby’s crying, and the Marquis, unable to endure it, sought help from his mother.

“Mother, I’m afraid Grace might break down too…”

The Seymour matriarch took baby Florence and warned Grace.

“This baby is your sister, Grace.”

“It’s a monster.”

“She’s human. She’s your sister, Grace.”

“No! She killed Mom! Kill her! Mom will come back if we kill her!”

The grandmother looked wearily at her exhausted son, her screaming granddaughter, and frightened grandson.

Where had it all gone wrong? Just one absence had changed the entire household.

But the person most worn down was her son. For his sake, the matriarch decided to take the baby.

“I’ll take care of the baby for now. You need to… sleep. How long has it been since you last slept?”

“…Since the day Monica died. I can barely sleep at all.”

“…I see…”

Poor son. The matriarch knew how much he had loved his wife. That’s why his grief and exhaustion were so painful to her. Holding the baby, she bent down to meet Grace’s eyes.

“Grace, I know you’re smart.”

“…”

“You know this baby did nothing wrong. And you know killing her won’t bring your mom back.”

“It’s her fault. Being born is her fault.”

“That can’t be a fault. You know that.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything. If she wasn’t born, Mom wouldn’t have died. Mom got so weak after carrying her. She didn’t even play with me anymore. It’s all because of her.”

“…”

“If she’s gone, everything will go back to the way it was. So, Grandma, give her to me.”

“No. Grace, you’re being very bad.”

“…”

“Didn’t Monica teach you not to live by your temper?”

“…”

“If you don’t change, you’ll pay a big price later. Don’t think others won’t notice. Everyone sees and knows.”

Grace hated her grandmother too. She was sure the grandmother hadn’t really liked her mother. That’s the only reason she could stay so calm when the baby had taken her mother away.

“Grandma didn’t even like Mom, Dad.”

“Grace, that’s not true…”

“It’s true. If it weren’t for that thing, we’d still be happy. But it killed Mom…”

Grace felt sorry for her exhausted father.

He was weak, very weak. He couldn’t handle losing the woman he loved and was falling apart. Grace thought he needed someone or something to blame.

When disaster strikes, people look for a reason.

They want to know why it happened.

Grace’s words branded themselves deeply in the Marquis’s heart:

“If she hadn’t been born, our family would still be happy.”

In truth, the baby was the start of all their pain. While the grandmother took care of Florence, the house regained a temporary peace.

There was no time to grow attached to the baby. No time to feel sorry for her. The Marquis focused on caring for Grace and Blake, and they grew closer as a family.

When Florence returned, the Marquis was shocked at how much he saw her as a stranger—someone he didn’t want near him.

She looked at him with innocent eyes, craving love.

She cried out in frustration, asking why he was hurting her.

“Foolish Florence.”

This shameless child, who had killed her mother, wanted to be loved. That love belonged to Grace.

Grace wanted Florence gone, but even the Marquis couldn’t allow that.

“If it weren’t for Grandmother, I could have gotten rid of her.”

Grace was tormented by the stress of seeing the hated child around.

The Marquis was a father who granted all of Grace’s wishes.

Because Grace was “enduring” Florence, he pitied her and often apologized.

And as he kept apologizing, he came to truly believe Florence’s very existence was a mistake.

Words are powerful.
And at the same time, they can be meaningless.