The day my husband attended our daughter’s parent-teacher meeting for the first time, I received a message from her at work. “Mom, the school building is on fire.”

I was shocked. “Get out quickly!”

“I can’t leave Dad behind!”

Wasn’t my husband with our daughter?

Without time to think, I rushed to the school, but the fire had already been put out.

All the children had escaped, except my daughter, who died in the fire.

Seeing her charred body, I nearly fainted. In the midst of such a disaster, my husband was nowhere to be found.

I checked the fire scene’s surveillance and discovered my husband had accompanied his first love and her daughter into another classroom.

All the other children had their parents with them, but my daughter was alone.

During the fire, my husband carried his first love’s daughter out and got her into an ambulance.

My daughter, seeing no sign of her father after escaping, ran back into the fire and was burned alive.

I frantically called my husband multiple times. He finally answered.

I screamed in despair, “You promised to attend Edith’s parent-teacher meeting, only to leave her alone in the classroom?”

On the other end, my husband’s impatient voice replied, “Helena, was that necessary? Edith is a good kid; she could handle it. Alisa doesn’t have a father; I couldn’t just leave them.”