The Burning Vengeance Behind the Ivory Keys

The wrench turned in the grease; I crouched under the car, sweat mixing with the grime, working. The phone rang abruptly, shattering the noise of the auto repair shop. I crawled out from under the car, wiped my face casually, and the grease on my fingertips left two black streaks across my cheek. The screen lit up — a friend request from an unknown account, with a verification message of just four words: Wendy Martinez, come back. That arrogance and command in his tone abruptly shattered the five years I had deliberately buried. I know who it is. No one but Troy Johnson would give me orders in such an entitled tone. Five years ago, I was still his lawful wife. Five years later, I am a worker making a living through hard labor at an auto repair shop, completely severed from the Johnson family of the past. I stared at those words for half a minute before finally clicking "Accept." The moment the friend request acceptance notification appeared, I unhesitatingly clicked "Block," cutting that name utterly out of my life. After finishing all that, I picked up the wrench and prepared to keep working. As soon as I bent down, the phone in my pocket started vibrating wildly again. This time, it was Chloe's number. "Wendy! We're in big trouble!" Chloe's voice trembled with tears, urgent and panicked. "Troy... Troy has found us. His car is already halfway here. He says he absolutely must find you!" My heart dropped suddenly, and the wrench slipped from my hand with a clatter. He still came looking. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. "I know. Don't panic. He's looking for me; he won't involve you." After hanging up the phone, I glanced around. This auto repair shop has been my most stable refuge in five years; the boss and my coworkers have treated me well, and I cannot let my past bring trouble here. I glanced at the calendar; today is the 17th of April. It is Ada's death anniversary. Five years ago today, my daughter Ada left me forever. I asked the boss for time off, changed into clean clothes, and left the auto repair shop, heading toward the barren hills on the outskirts. Ada's grave lies there, a small mound of earth. Just as I reached the grave and hadn't yet set down my cloth bag, my phone rang again. This time, it was an unfamiliar landline number. I hesitated for a moment, then answered. Troy's voice came through the receiver, still carrying his usual coldness and threat: "Wendy, I know you're at the auto repair shop." I said nothing, my fingertips tightly gripping the cloth pouch. "You have half an hour to appear before me," his tone was commanding and absolute, "otherwise, I won't hesitate to make that auto repair shop vanish completely." My heart clenched suddenly. I know Troy well; he means what he says and acts accordingly. "What do you want to do?" I gritted my teeth, my voice hoarse with restraint. "Go home." His voice was casual, but it struck my heart like a heavy hammer. "Starlight Bay Villas. I'll be waiting for you." After saying that, he hung up immediately. I stood before Ada's grave. The wind rustled the wild grass, making a whistling sound that eerily resembled Ada's cries of distress when she was little. "Ada, I'm sorry." I crouched down, gently stroking the cold mound of earth, tears falling silently. "Mommy has to go for a while. When I return, I'll make it up to you, sweetheart."