Chapter 3

That night, I do not know where Howard went, and I do not care. I slept well, probably the best sleep I had had in months.

Even married, he would not share a room with someone like me, someone dirty and beneath him.

I skipped breakfast and went straight to the hospital. Today was my checkup.

After registering, I rounded a corner in the hallway and saw a familiar pair.

"Howard, thank you so much for today!" That voice was so sugary it was practically sickening. I didn't even have to look to know it was Charlotte.

They noticed me immediately. Charlotte's eyes went sharp, alert, and she grabbed Howard's hand as if to claim him.

Their fingers laced together. I did not bother to glance at them. My stomach churned, and I felt nauseous.

"Olivia, why are you here? I have Howard. One person is enough to take care of me. You don't need to trouble yourself," Charlotte said, with that smug tone I had come to despise.

"I'm just passing by. I won't disturb you," I replied calmly.

I ignored her and walked to the waiting area with my report in hand.

But Howard stepped in front of me. "You followed me to the hospital just because you couldn't stop worrying?" he asked, his voice low.

He grabbed my wrist tightly, not letting go. He did not care about Charlotte standing beside him, her eyes burning with jealousy and fury.

I yanked my wrist free from Howard's grip. Charlotte gasped, clutching her chest as if someone had struck her. She took quick, uneven breaths, her face pale.

"Howard, my whole body hurts. It feels like a rejection reaction," she said, her voice high and shaky.

Howard lifted her into his arms immediately. His eyes were full of worry, almost spilling over.

He looked at me, frowning at my calm indifference. "Charlotte is unwell. Go call a doctor! Why are you just standing there?" he demanded.

Charlotte's voice trembled, but the words stung. "Howard, don't be hard on her. Olivia grew up in the countryside. She doesn't even know where to find a doctor. This is a high-end private hospital, after all."

I bit back a laugh.

"You have hands and legs. Why don't you call the doctor yourself?" I said slowly, looking Howard straight in the eyes. "I am a lower-class person. I do not deserve to be in a hospital like this."

Howard's jaw tightened. "Now is not the time to behave so uncivilly. If Charlotte gets worse, can you take responsibility?"

Uncivil. Lower-class. Country bumpkin.

They spoke as if they were some kind of superior beings.

How weak must I have been to let them treat me like this for so long?

"I've had enough," I said, my voice cold. "Say what you will. I am going to my checkup now."

Howard finally noticed the registration slip in my hand.

His face shifted. A mix of embarrassment and irritation crossed its face. "You're getting checked today too?" he asked, his voice tight. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I remembered the first time Charlotte and I had come to this hospital for the bone marrow transplant. After my operation, I had been left alone, abandoned in the hospital. Charlotte, on the other hand, had always been surrounded, cared for, and gradually recovered.

My checkups fell on the same day as hers, every month on the third. But Howard always remembered only one person.

Charlotte's expression darkened. She could not stand the thought of me drawing even a fraction of Howard's attention.

After a few exaggerated gasps and small, dramatic tremors, she fainted.

It was a performance. Any bystander could tell she was faking it.

Only Howard played along.

I looked at them both with cool detachment. "If Charlotte's illness is really that serious, then stay and take care of her," I said.

I turned and walked out of the hospital without another glance. The instant I stepped into the sunlight, a weight lifted from my chest.

A year ago, Arthur and Eleanor Quinn had come for me, all polished smiles and lofty promises. They said, "We have finally found our biological daughter."

In reality, after bringing me home, they wanted me to repay them by donating bone marrow to Charlotte.

I later learned the truth. They had never intended to find me at all.

Charlotte had leukemia, and I, the girl switched at birth, happened to be a compatible donor. By sheer coincidence, I became a tool for their plans.

Howard, I realized, had started paying attention to me the night he learned our blood types matched. That was when his interest in me began.

He had made it all seem like a grand gesture. To get me to donate my bone marrow willingly, he had proposed to me. He had pursued me despite his disgust, he said, all in the name of love.

I had believed it. I had bathed in the fantasy Howard created for me, imagining romance and devotion. Until the night of our engagement party. I saw him in the corner of the staircase, pressed against Charlotte. Their lips met, slow and intimate.

When they noticed me, there was no guilt in their eyes, no hint of apology. Charlotte looked at me with that familiar, cutting smile. "Olivia, you can take the girl out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the girl. Never reach for what is not yours. You are not worthy."

Howard spoke openly, deliberately. "Since you know now, I will tell you the truth. My heart belongs only to Charlotte. Everything with you was just for show. I have kept my promise, so do not overstep your bounds."

I screamed, crying, clinging to Charlotte's dress, demanding to know why they had deceived me.

I felt his hand strike me, hard and precise.

"If you keep making a scene, I will cut off your adoptive parents' medical support," he threatened.