Blurb：
Three years after the brutal murder of Mr. and Mrs. Evans, their granddaughter Lily Evans falls to her death from the 18th-floor balcony. As the sole person present at home, Mrs. Evans becomes the prime suspect in what appears to be a staged accident. The police investigation reveals a deliberately sabotaged balcony railing and a history of family resentment. Detective’s probing uncovers Mrs. Evans’ long-held belief that Lily was responsible for her grandparents’ death. With forensics evidence, neighbor testimonies, and a mother’s intuition colliding, this psychological thriller explores whether Mrs. Evans sought revenge or if another killer remains at large. The Evans family secrets run deeper than anyone imagined.
Content：
My parents were brutally murdered in their home.
The only person at the crime scene was my daughter.
Three years later, on the anniversary of my parents’ death, my daughter was pushed off the balcony.
She died instantly.
As the only person at home, I became the top suspect.
The police arrived half an hour after my daughter fell.
Her body lay in the garden downstairs.
Crimson blood seeped into the soil, staining it like sinful roses.
All the neighbors rushed out.
Some wanted to see the spectacle.
Some mourned my daughter’s young life.
The police had already cordoned off the area with caution tape.
I stood by the eighteenth-floor balcony, tears streaming down my face, dripping onto the ground, soaking my daughter’s stuffed toy.
Maybe because of a mother’s intuition, I could almost see it —
My daughter’s wide, terrified eyes, full of panic.
When the police came to my door, I had just wiped away my last tear, my face exhausted from grief.
“Hello, Mrs. Evans, right? You’re the mother of the deceased?”
“Someone reported suspicions that your daughter’s fall wasn’t an accident. We need you to cooperate with our investigation.”
The arguing downstairs had been going on for a while.
When my daughter died, she was clutching a broken piece of the balcony railing.
The forensic team noticed immediately — the railing hadn’t broken naturally. The cut was clean, made by a tool.
They suspected someone had tampered with it intentionally to make the death look like an accident.
And the only person with access to our home was someone in the family.
My husband had been away on a business trip for a month.
My mother-in-law lived out in the countryside.
That left me as the only suspect.
I nodded numbly.
“Of course. It’s my duty to cooperate. I’ll tell you everything I know. Ask whatever you need.”
The officer straightened up and pulled out a notepad.
“Were you home when the incident occurred? What were you doing? There were signs of struggle before your daughter fell. How did you not notice?”
The cop behind him eyed me suspiciously, as if they’d already decided I was the killer.
My voice was hoarse from crying.
“Half an hour ago, I was in the kitchen. I just bought fresh ingredients from the market for lunch.”
“Lily’s usually very well-behaved — she doesn’t disturb me when I’m cooking.”
“Before I went into the kitchen, I saw her doing homework in her room. I didn’t think much of it.”
“The range hood was loud, and the kitchen is separated from the balcony. I didn’t see her go out there… I didn’t hear her call for me either…”
By the time I finished, I was crying again.
But the police weren’t buying it.
“You didn’t hear? How is that possible?”
“A range hood might drown out normal conversation, but your daughter was falling — she must’ve screamed.”
“Neighbors said they heard noises for a full ten minutes. You were home. How could you not hear?”
“Mrs. Evans, we’ve done our investigation. You and your daughter weren’t as close as you claim.”
“You wouldn’t have gone out just to buy her ingredients.”
“In fact, you resented your daughter.”
I stopped wiping my tears, stunned.
“Resent my daughter? How could I? Lily is my flesh and blood — my only child!”
I was getting angry.
“You’re the police — you need evidence to make claims like that!”
“If you’re just here to accuse me, then get out!”
“It wasn’t murder — it was an accident. I’m her mother. Don’t I have the right to close the case?”
The police grew colder as my emotions flared.
“Mrs. Evans, I assume you haven’t forgotten the case from three years ago? About your parents?”
“I have my reasons for saying this. The detective who handled your parents’ case was my mentor. He briefed me before I came.”
“You were furious when the case was closed. You insisted your daughter killed your parents.”
“You said you’d find the truth yourself, and that if the police couldn’t give your parents justice, you’d take matters into your own hands.”
He tapped the table sternly.
“Your daughter’s ‘accident’ today — that was you taking matters into your own hands, wasn’t it?”
My tears dried in my eyes. I laughed bitterly.
“Officer, I’m not a fool. Three years ago, Lily was only five. Do you really think a five-year-old could commit murder?”
“I don’t know what your mentor told you, but Lily is my daughter. Of course I believed her.”
“These past three years, how I’ve cared for her — ask the neighbors. Everyone saw it. You can’t trick me into confessing. I’ve told you the truth.”
The officer’s probing expression stiffened.
I continued.
“Besides, why would I kill my daughter? She was my only chance to save my marriage.”
“My only chance to keep my parents’ belongings.”
Under their skeptical gaze, I revealed the past.
Eight years ago, Robert and I went from dating to marriage.
I was already two months pregnant.
On the wedding day, Robert’s mother used my pregnancy to blackmail my parents into handing over the family business to Robert.
Otherwise, she’d tell everyone the Johnsons’ heiress was a desperate whore.
My parents, concerned about reputation — and because I loved Robert deeply — had to agree.
The wedding was delayed an hour. Robert and my parents signed the contract.
From that day, everything under the Johnson name belonged to Robert.
Robert buried himself in work. I focused on pregnancy and motherhood.
We were civil, at least.
But after our daughter was born, Robert came home less and less.
When Lily was three, I got a text.
It showed Robert’s other “home” — my husband was cheating.
I told my parents.
But all the assets were in Robert’s name.
With Lily so young, I had to endure his betrayal.
Two years passed. Just when I thought I could live out my days as Mrs. Evans, my parents were killed on our wedding anniversary.
When I arrived, they were on the floor.
With her last breath, my mother used her blood to write:
“Don’t divorce.”
The crooked, dried blood held all her love.
I looked up, my eyes red and swollen.
“So how could I kill my daughter?”
“Without Lily, I have no family. Everything that belonged to the Johnsons would be gone forever.”
“Tell me — how could I ever accept that?”
My resentment filled the room.
The lead detective, however, remained stern.
“It all sounds perfect — which is exactly why your daughter had to die, isn’t it?”
“I refuse to believe you didn’t hate your daughter for your parents’ death.”
“If it weren’t for her, you wouldn’t have rushed into marriage, signed that contract, your parents might still be alive.”
“Sarah, admit it. You killed your daughter.”
I shot to my feet, using anger to mask my fear.
“What are you talking about? How could I have known Lily would wear those non-slip shoes today? She fell on her own!”
“What does that have to do with me? I was in the kitchen cooking! Check the surveillance if you don’t believe me!”
“If I really killed her, there’d be evidence on the balcony. There isn’t any! Stop accusing me!”
My outburst silenced the room.
The detective frowned, more suspicious than ever.
“Sarah, we only mentioned your daughter had a piece of the railing. How did you know she fell because of her shoes?”
“Unless those shoes were part of your plan?”
I froze, speechless.
Before I could respond, Robert stormed in.
He charged at me, but the police held him back.
He pointed at my face, furious.
“You b**ch! I knew you’d never let go of what happened three years ago!”
“Lily was your own daughter! How could you do it! Even if she did something wrong, she was just a child! You’re worse than an animal!”
“Officers, she’s the killer! Take this lunatic away! I can’t stand the sight of her!”
The police calmed him down.
“Mr. Evans, we know this is hard, but please, try to compose yourself.”
“As the father, you know this family better than we do. Your wife claims she and your daughter had a good relationship — that she took good care of her.”
“What’s your take?”
Robert didn’t even glance at the statement.
“Bulls**t! She never treated Lily well! She wished Lily were dead!”
“These past three years, my daughter suffered because of her!”
“I tried multiple times to take Lily away, but she couldn’t bear to leave her mom.”
“My daughter was so kind — she’d already moved past her mistakes! Why couldn’t you give her a chance?”
He shouted the last words at me, veins bulging.
The police turned to me sternly.
“Mrs. Evans, your husband has contradicted your statement. Do you have anything to say?”
“If not, you’ll need to come with us.”
I suddenly laughed through my tears.
Seeing no way out, I revealed the truth of the past three years.
Lily was my biological daughter, but she knew about Robert’s other family.
She clung to me not out of love, but to keep me busy.
So I wouldn’t interfere with her dad and his mistress.
I took care of her every need.
But all I got in return was abuse.
“You ugly woman, you’re not my mom!”
“I want Aunt Sophie! Aunt Sophie is prettier and younger! Dad is always happy with her!”
“You’re just dead weight! Once Aunt Sophie moves in, we’ll kick you out!”
I told myself she was still my daughter.
I stayed in this miserable marriage for her.
I did everything I could.
Tutoring her, sending her to private school, enrolling her in dance…
If she wanted the stars, I’d have tried to grab them.
I thought my love would eventually wake her up.
After all, a mother’s bond runs deep.
That was what my own mother always told me.
If my husband cheated, my daughter was my hope.
Hearts can change. When she grew up, she’d understand me.
But I was wrong.
A year ago, Lily begged to go to the amusement park with Aunt Sophie.
I drove her there, despite running a fever.
On the stairs, Lily pushed me from behind.
When Robert arrived, Lily was on the floor, crying hysterically.
She screamed,
“Mom, don’t hit me! I won’t ask for Aunt Sophie again! Lily will go home with you! Please don’t abandon me!”
That’s when I discovered my own daughter would lie to destroy me.
After that, Robert locked me at home for a month.
Fever and stomach illness nearly killed me.
As I faded in and out of consciousness, I realized—
This daughter was no longer mine.
This family wasn’t either.
The detective stepped closer, pressing hard.
“So you resented your husband’s affair, your daughter’s betrayal, your daughter’s crime.”
“You combined the old case with your misery. You hated them for taking everything — hated that the daughter you protected became your husband’s mistress’s little darling!”
“You lost your parents and blamed your daughter for all of it! So you wanted her dead! Admit it!”
The questions broke me.
I screamed in rage.
“What choice did I have! She could kill — why couldn’t I? Don’t you think she deserved it?”
“She should’ve died three years ago! These extra three years were a gift! Wasn’t I merciful enough?”
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