Chapter 1

We were holding my dad's fiftieth birthday party today.

My sister, Jenny Foster, took a bite of the mango cake in front of everyone.

She knew she was allergic to mangoes.

The next second, she clutched her neck and collapsed, struggling to breathe.

My dad, Richard Foster, rushed over and slapped me hard across the face. "Jenny can't eat mangoes. You did this on purpose!"

All the guests started calling me vicious.

I'd always been frail.

Terrified, I suddenly coughed up blood. It stained the pristine white cake bright red.

The world went dark, and I dropped to the floor.

Jenny only got a rash, while I was hauled off in an ambulance.

In the hospital room, my dad held my hand, crying and apologizing.

I weakly pulled off my oxygen mask. "Dad, don't cry. Is Jenny okay?"

*****

Richard's tears splashed onto the back of my hand.

He was the powerful chairman of Foster Group, but now, all his dignity was gone as he sobbed. "Stacy, I'm sorry. I was wrong. I panicked and slapped you without even figuring out what really happened."

I looked at his guilty face and felt sick to my stomach.

Just last month, I was taken back into the Foster family.

Back then, Richard promised to give me all the fatherly love I'd missed out on for eighteen years.

But as soon as Jenny took a bite of that mango cake, he immediately accused me of trying to harm his adopted daughter.

The hospital room door swung open. My brother, Michael Foster, strode in with a bag of fruit.

He glanced at the monitor and then frowned. "Stacy, are you seriously playing the victim right now?"

He slammed the fruit down on the bedside table.

Two apples rolled onto the floor.

He went on, "Jenny's broken out in hives from her allergy and she's still hooked up to an IV next door, but you? You spit up some blood and get Dad to fuss over you."

Richard stood up, lowered his voice and snapped, "Shut up. The doctor said Stacy had a severe stress-induced hemoptysis. She nearly died."

Michael sneered. "Dad, don't let her fool you. She's just jealous of Jenny and pulled this stunt at your birthday party on purpose."

He pointed right at my face, shooting me a look of pure disgust. "Jenny's always so nice. She knew you weren't feeling well and even had me pick up some supplements for you. But you? You're scheming and mean."

I looked at Michael's angry face. This was my own brother.

For eighteen years, he poured all his care and affection into Jenny.

I felt a suffocating heaviness in my chest, and some blood flooded the back of my throat.

I clamped a hand over my mouth as I was wracked with violent coughs.

Scarlet blood spilled through my fingers, splattering onto the pure white sheets.

Michael froze, his hand still raised in mid-air.

"Stacy!" Richard yelled, rushing over and slamming the call button.

I couldn't stop coughing. My breaths grew weaker, and my vision started to blur.

The ceiling broke apart into a thousand white lights, shrinking and slipping away into the distance.

Michael's face went ghostly pale as he stumbled back. "I... I didn't even touch her. She's pretending again..."

The doctor, Ethan Cole, burst into the room with the nurses.

He shoved Michael aside, lifted my eyelids to check my pupil response, and then checked my pulse at the carotid artery.

"Her oxygen levels are plummeting. Get the crash cart, now. Prepare for intubation." Ethan's voice was ice-cold and commanding.

The nurse raced in with the crash cart.

A cold laryngoscope forced my mouth open, and a tube was slid down my throat. Another nurse quickly set up an IV and pushed adrenaline straight into my vein.

Piercing alarms from the medical equipment blared in my ears.

Michael finally panicked, his voice trembling. "Doctor, what's wrong with her? She was totally fine just now..."

Ethan didn't turn around. He was fixated on the monitor readings, his hand quickly adjusting the ventilator settings.

Once the numbers stabilized, his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly.

Ethan turned to glance at Michael. "The patient has had a serious emotional shock. Her lung capillaries burst all over, and now she's suffocating. If any of you say another word, get ready to hold her funeral."

Michael was left speechless, slumping onto the bench in the hallway.

It took two full hours of emergency treatment before they finally managed to save my life.

At one point, my heart rate dropped to only over thirty beats per minute. Ethan had to use atropine twice and even a temporary pacemaker to get it back under control.

I was lucky. I survived again.