In *The Young and the Restless*, Sharon’s mind is engulfed by a

storm of fury and obsession. Her thoughts are consumed by a single,

burning desire—to rid the world of Lucy. In Sharon’s twisted logic,

Lucy has become the embodiment of all the pain, fear, and anger that has plagued her for so long. She convinces herself that by eliminating Lucy, she will protect her daughter, Faith, and restore the shattered peace in their lives.

The plan seems straightforward, and fate seems to have handed her the perfect opportunity. Lucy lies in her bed, vulnerable, asleep, and completely unaware of the danger looming over her. Sharon’s heart pounds in her chest as she approaches the bedside, the room closing in around her. The silence is suffocating, broken only by the soft, rhythmic breaths of the sleeping child. Sharon’s hand trembles slightly as she reaches for a pillow—her weapon of choice for this grim task. This is the moment she’s been waiting for, the moment that, in her mind, will finally make everything right.

However, just as Sharon lifts the pillow, ready to smother Lucy, a quiet voice cuts through the darkness. “Mom, please don’t.” The words are soft but powerful, stopping Sharon in her tracks. She turns slowly, her eyes wide with shock as she sees Faith sitting up in bed, her eyes filled with fear and confusion. Faith’s voice is weak, yet the desperation in it is unmistakable. “Please don’t hurt her, Mom. She’s just a little girl. Please, don’t do this.”

For a brief moment, Sharon’s resolve wavers. The sight of her daughter, awake and pleading, cuts through the fog of hatred that has clouded her judgment. But the pull of her dark mission is too strong. Sharon quickly hardens her heart again, convinced that this is the only way to save Faith, to protect her from the perceived threat that Lucy represents. Her eyes, cold and determined, lock onto Faith’s. “I have to do this, Faith. It’s the only way you’ll be safe. Only when Lucy is gone will you finally be free.”

Lucy, roused by the tension in the room, begins to stir. As her eyes flutter open, she quickly realizes the danger she’s in. Terrified, she begins to cry, her small voice trembling with fear. “Please, I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please don’t hurt me.”

Faith’s heart breaks at the sight of Lucy’s tears. She sees the fear in the little girl’s eyes and knows she must do something—anything—to stop her mother from committing an irreversible act. “Mom, listen to me,” Faith pleads, her voice stronger now. “If you do this, I’ll have to tell the police. I’ll have to tell them what you did. Please, don’t make me do that. Don’t make me lose you.”

Sharon’s hand falters, the pillow slipping slightly as the weight of Faith’s words sinks in. The thought of her own daughter turning against her, of being taken away from her, is enough to give her pause. Slowly, the reality of what she’s about to do begins to set in. The monstrous grip of her hatred starts to loosen.

Faith’s eyes fill with tears, never leaving her mother’s face. “Please, Mom,” she whispers. “Don’t do this. Don’t let hate win. You’re better than this. You’re my mom, and I need you.”

For a long, agonizing moment, the room is silent, the tension hanging in the air like a knife’s edge. Then, with a shaky breath, Sharon lowers the pillow, her hands trembling as she lets it fall to the floor. The fire in her eyes dims, replaced by a hollow emptiness as she realizes just how close she came to losing everything—her daughter’s love, her own humanity.

Lucy continues to cry, her small body shaking with sobs as she curls up in a ball, terrified and vulnerable. Faith reaches out, wrapping her arms around Lucy and holding her close, her own tears mingling with those of the girl she just saved.

Sharon stands frozen in place, her mind a chaotic mess of regret, shame, and lingering anger. She has failed in her twisted mission, but in doing so, she’s been pulled back from the brink by her daughter’s love and courage. Yet, as she looks into Faith’s eyes, Sharon sees something has changed, something irreparable. The way Faith looks at her now—with a mixture of fear, disappointment, and sadness—makes it clear that nothing will ever be the same between them.

Faith has saved Lucy’s life, but in the process, she’s lost something precious—the trust and admiration she once had for her mother. Sharon can see it in the way Faith keeps her distance, the way she protectively holds Lucy, as if shielding her from the person Sharon has become. The bond between mother and daughter has been fractured, perhaps beyond repair.

As Sharon slowly backs away, the weight of her actions pressing down on her like a heavy stone, she knows this moment will haunt her forever. Faith has seen the darkness inside her, the part of her that has been twisted and corrupted by hatred. And now, nothing will ever be the same again.