Chapter 3

The investigation lasted a full two weeks.

Those two weeks felt like a century to me.

The investigators dug through every corner of my past, turning my entire history upside down.

They tracked down and questioned many of the people listed in those so-called logbooks.

Most people said they had never given me any money.

But a few gave ambiguous answers.

"Maybe... something like that happened, but it was so long ago I can't remember."

"Dr. Garcia is a skilled doctor. As family members, it was only natural for us to express our gratitude."

But after the investigators spun those words, they turned into damning evidence against me.

And the real nail in the coffin was the bank card Sean submitted.

It was set up using my ID, but I never even knew about it.

Every deposit in that account lined up exactly with the entries in those so-called logbooks.

When Sean was questioned, he acted like some noble martyr—turning in his own wife for the sake of justice, all tragic and self-sacrificing.

He told the investigators he'd been onto my bribe-taking for ages.

He claimed he'd pleaded with me, tried to talk sense into me, but I wouldn't listen.

He said he kept those records in secret, in case he'd need them to pull me back from the edge someday.

"I love her, so I couldn't stand by and watch her fall into the abyss," he said. "I didn't report her to destroy her. I did it to save her!"

He put on such a show, practically sobbing and choking up, acting like he was the tragic hero.

When a colleague from the Office of Inspector General told me all this, it honestly made me want to throw up.

I never knew someone could be this fake.

And the investigation team actually bought his story.

After all, he was my husband, the person who was supposed to know me better than anyone.

His testimony carried the most weight.

And then Linda and a few of her close buddies happened to casually drop hints during the investigation.

They claimed I lived lavishly, always decked out in designer brands.

"There's no way a department head's salary could cover that kind of spending," they said.

Everyone loved to kick someone when they were down.

People's true colors showed. Pure malice, no hiding it now.

All the so-called evidence piled up, weaving a flawless trap around me.

All the blame landed squarely on me.

There was nothing I could say to clear my name.

Or maybe I didn't even want to try anymore.

What was the point of explaining anything to people who'd already decided you were guilty?

I found it laughable.

I'd been working for fifteen years. Adding up my salary, bonuses, and allowances, my annual income was far from low.

So what if I bought a couple of designer bags or wore some expensive clothes? How did that suddenly become evidence of a so-called lavish lifestyle?

The funniest part? Most of my money was spent on the household.

I bought Sean a car for his thirtieth birthday.

I paid the down payment for that fancy apartment his mom lived in, and I was the one covering the mortgage every month.

Sean was always slacking off at work, and most of his bills ended up on me.

I never told anyone about any of this.

I always thought that in a marriage, there was no need to keep score.

Now that I thought about it, the irony was off the charts.

I busted my ass to support a guy who turned out to be a total backstabber.

A man who spent my hard-earned cash secretly schemed to ruin me.

When the investigation was nearly over, Warren called me in for a talk.

We were back in his office.

This time, there was no one from the Office of Inspector General, only the two of us.

He poured me a cup of coffee, looking utterly exhausted.

"Taylor, looks like this whole thing's about to wrap up," Warren said, his voice rough and tired.

I nodded. "Yeah, I know."

He looked at me with real regret in his eyes.

"Are you seriously not going to say anything for yourself?" he asked.

"Just give me anything that makes me doubt. Even if it means risking everything I've got, I'll fight for you and dig until I find the truth," he promised.

"Mr. Green, thank you," I said, catching sight of his graying hair. For the first time in ages, I actually felt a bit of warmth in my chest.

After everything, he was the only one left who still believed in me.

"But... it's pointless now," I said.

"How can you say it's pointless? You're being framed!" Warren practically shouted, unable to hide his frustration.

I shook my head and gave a bitter laugh. "When my husband calls you out as guilty right to your face, does it even matter if I'm actually innocent?

"To everyone else, his word is the truth.

"After all, he's my husband. Why would he ever want to hurt me?

"That logic is bulletproof, right?"

Warren fell silent.

He picked up his cup, took a sip, and set it down with a heavy thud.

"Taylor, do you hate him?" he asked.

I paused, caught off guard.

Did I really hate him?

At first, I absolutely did.

I hated how he turned everything upside down and how cruel he could be.

But after these two weeks to clear my head, I'd come to realize a lot.

Maybe what I felt for him now wasn't even hate.

It was disappointment.

It was like spending ten years pouring your heart into a flower, believing it would bloom into something beautiful.

But instead, it started rotting from the roots, and in the end, it splattered mud all over you.

You didn't hate the mess it became.

You'd feel foolish, realizing you wasted ten years of your heart and care.

"No, I don't hate him anymore," I said softly. "I feel like it was all for nothing."

It wasn't worth losing ten years of my youth.

It wasn't worth pouring out all my love, only for it to be wasted.

Warren let out a long sigh. "I get it. Taylor, I'm sorry you had to go through all this.

"No matter what happens, remember, you're a good doctor. No one can ever take that away from you."

My eyes burned with unshed tears, but I held them back.

I gave him a deep bow.

"Thank you, Mr. Green," I said softly.

I knew this was our final show of respect.

It was also my last farewell to the place where I'd poured fifteen years of my youth and heart.

Everything I'd built was about to come crashing down, and there was nothing I could do to save it.

All I could do was keep my head up and let it fall apart.

Then, standing amidst the wreckage, I'd calmly watch the one who started the fire finally face the consequences.