Chapter 2

Sloane's POV

Back at my rental room, I threw my wet clothes into a basin.

My phone screen lit up.

A friend request notification appeared. It was from Lauren.

I approved it.

The next second, a transfer notification sounded.

"Peace and Tranquility has sent you $20,000"

Immediately followed by a voice message.

"Take the money. Go look at apartments and find a new place. Next week is your father's death anniversary. Come back and pay respects. Jasmine's health hasn't been good lately-she can't handle stress. When you come back, keep your mouth shut. Don't say anything sarcastic."

My finger hovered over the screen.

Death anniversary.

Poor health.

Those words were like bullets, instantly piercing through my psychological defenses.

Thunder crashed outside the window.

My hand jerked and the phone fell to the floor.

The hideous scar on my waist suddenly began to throb with phantom pain, like someone was stirring inside with a rusty knife.

I curled up on the moldy single bed, cold sweat instantly soaking through my clothes.

"Sloane, drink this. It's good for you."

In my dream, Lauren held a bowl of soup, a rare loving smile on her face.

"Mom knows you're tired from studying. I made this especially for you."

It was the only warmth I'd received in this lifetime.

Overwhelmed with gratitude, I drank the entire bowl in one go.

When I woke again, I was in a private room at a private hospital.

My waist was wrapped in gauze. The pain was suffocating.

Lauren stood by the bed holding Jasmine's hand, her face full of satisfaction.

"That's wonderful, Jasmine. With this kidney, your complexion will be even rosier. You won't have to worry about kidney problems anymore."

Jasmine lay on another bed, cooing sweetly.

"Thank you, Mommy. Sister's kidney works so well."

I tried to scream, but my throat couldn't make a sound.

Jasmine didn't even have severe kidney failure. She just wasn't perfectly healthy. It wasn't anywhere near life-threatening.

They'd cut out my kidney simply because Jasmine didn't want to live with illness anymore!

The scene shifted.

My father, Richard Sterling, held that stack of so-called donation agreements. His whole body trembled with rage as he charged into the bedroom to confront Lauren.

"This is a crime! She's your own daughter!"

But Lauren just sneered.

"Own daughter? Only Jasmine is my child! Sloane Sterling, that waste-losing one kidney won't kill her!"

Jasmine cried on the side, tears streaming down her face. Suddenly she fainted.

Lauren shrieked and shoved Richard.

"What are you yelling for! You scared Jasmine! If Jasmine develops psychological trauma because of you, I'll fight you to the death!"

Richard clutched his chest and slowly collapsed.

His medication was right there on the table, but Lauren didn't even glance at it. She only cared about helping the fake-fainting Jasmine.

"Dad!!!"

I bolted upright in bed, gasping for breath.

The room was deathly silent except for the rain outside.

I touched my face. It was covered in cold sweat and tears.

The scar at my waist still throbbed with dull pain, constantly reminding me-that wasn't a dream.

That was the blood-soaked truth from three years ago.

My biological mother, for the sake of an adopted daughter, cut out my kidney and drove my father to death.

And now she had the nerve to ask me to come back and kowtow?

And to make sure I didn't upset Jasmine?

I picked up the phone from the floor.

The screen had a cracked corner, reflecting my vicious expression.

I opened the transfer and accepted the payment.

No reason not to take it.

I should go back for that kowtow.

But not to apologize.

To send them to their graves.

During morning rush hour, the alley entrance was completely blocked.

Lauren's car sat crosswise there while neighbors pointed and cursed.

James stood in the muddy water holding an umbrella, his face earnest.

"Miss Sterling, Madam requests that you get in the car."

I looked at the rideshare app on my phone.

156 people in queue.

I put away my phone and opened the car door to get in.