Chapter 3

The next day, I snuck off to the hospital by myself, not telling a soul.

I sat outside the operating room, and my heart was in turmoil.

This was my baby, and I'd once longed for it. But now, I was about to end its life myself.

When the nurse finally called my name, I took a deep breath, stood up, and walked into the operating room.

Just as I was about to sign the papers, the door to the operating room was suddenly thrown open.

Michael burst in and yanked me up from the chair.

His eyes were bloodshot as he dragged me out.

I struggled, shouting, "Michael, let go of me! I need this surgery. I'm divorcing you!"

He ignored my struggles, dragged me out of the hospital and shoved me into the car. "Grace, I warned you not to try to leave me. You didn't listen, so now you're going to pay the price."

With that, he started the car and drove toward the hospital where my mom was staying.

When we pushed open the door to the hospital room, I saw Wanda sitting by my mom's bed, peeling an apple.

She froze for a second when she saw us, and then gave us a gentle, almost fragile smile. "Michael, Grace, you're back."

Michael didn't say a word. He yanked Wanda to his side and kissed her hard.

Wanda's eyes went wide, her face full of shock.

Then she closed her eyes and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

My mom's eyes widened in shock, and her lips twitched nonstop, her face frozen in shock and disbelief.

Michael kissed Wanda for a long while before finally letting her go.

He turned to me. "Grace, you want to break things off? I'll make sure it's over for you, once and for all."

His gaze shifted to my mom, his voice clear and venomous. "Mavis, let me tell you a secret. Wanda isn't some orphan Grace brought home. She's the illegitimate daughter your husband had with another woman.

"The girl you've cherished all these years is actually the evidence of your husband's betrayal."

"No... No way..." My mom was shaking all over, her lips trembling, her voice barely a whisper.

Wanda suddenly spoke up, but her voice was no longer soft or apologetic. "It's true, Mom. Before my real mom died, she told me the truth and sent me to find Dad.

"He wouldn't accept me, but Grace was kind enough to take me in and give me a home."

I froze, and my mind went blank.

My mom opened her mouth, trying to speak, but all that came out was a shrill scream.

The next second, her body stiffened, and she passed out.

"Mom!" I screamed, rushing to her side.

The doctor and nurses scrambled in, trying desperately to save her.

After more than half an hour, the doctor finally came out of the emergency room.

He shook his head, his voice heavy. "The patient suffered a massive brain hemorrhage because of the emotional trauma. She's now in a vegetative state."

I murmured to myself, wanting so badly to cry, but not a single tear would come.

Staring at my mom, motionless in her bed, I couldn't help but think about the baby I abandoned before it ever came to the world.

At that moment, everything inside me shattered.

I stood up numbly and bolted toward the fifth-floor window like I'd lost my mind. With everyone watching in horror, I leapt out.

Michael's face drained of all color. "Grace!"

My body flipped over the windowsill, and the gravity dragged me down.

The wind screamed past my ears, sharp and piercing.

My back slammed into the tempered glass awning jutting out from the third floor. White cracks splintered across the surface, and then the whole thing collapsed beneath me.

Shards scattered as I crashed through the broken awning and slammed onto the concrete floor of the second-floor terrace.

A heavy thud rang out, and I heard the sickening crack of bone in my right leg.

Warm blood seeped out from under me, spreading through the cracks in the concrete, painting the ground red.

Chaotic footsteps thundered down the hallway. The fire door slammed open, and Michael burst onto the terrace. His shoes splashed through the blood, sending crimson droplets everywhere.

He dropped to the ground at my side, and his hands hovered helplessly above me, fingers trembling, unable to bring himself to touch me.

"Grace!" he called out, his voice hoarse.

I opened my eyes, and my blurry vision was filled with his face.

"I hate you," I forced the words out, blood bubbling from my lips, dripping down my chin onto my collar.

Michael grabbed his head and howled, and the ambulance siren grew louder as it approached.

The wheels of the emergency cart rattled across the tiled floor, the ceiling lights receding overhead.

The doctor cut away my blood-soaked clothes with scissors and placed the defibrillator pads on my chest. My body jolted upward from the shock, and then slammed back down.

An anesthesia mask was fitted over my mouth and nose, gas filling my lungs as my vision faded into darkness.