Chapter 2
I turned off my tablet, the bitterness heavy on my chest as I called my father. "Dad, can you help me schedule the procedure and arrange for my treatment overseas?"
The next morning, after Charlie left for work, I slipped past the housekeeper and wheeled myself into his study.
I retrieved my identification documents and tucked them into the hidden compartment of my wheelchair, and then replaced them with the forged documents my father had provided.
After five years together, Charlie had always kept me out of his study. Now I was actually here for the first time to plan my escape.
My eyes scanned the room, taking in the collection of curiosities—mostly girlish things, and a painting draped in black silk.
I lifted the silk to reveal a girl gazing at a landscape, her hair catching the sunlight as it danced in the breeze—she was breathtakingly beautiful.
The woman in the painting was none other than Sylvia, the very person who had shattered my legs.
I finally realized that Charlie retreated to this study every day not to work, but to lose himself in memories of her.
An invisible hand seemed to clamp around my heart, squeezing until each breath brought a fresh wave of anguish.
Overwhelmed, I turned my wheelchair and fled, desperate to escape the crushing weight of that room.
As I rushed away, my wheelchair jerked out of control and crashed right into a vase, sending me sprawling onto the floor.
Shards of ceramic sliced into my ankle, but physical pain was dull compared to the agony tearing through me.
Moving mechanically, I removed the broken pieces from my foot and tried to haul myself back into the wheelchair, but my body just wouldn't cooperate.
Defeated, I sat amidst the wreckage, feeling broken and useless as I waited for help to arrive.
Just then, my phone buzzed to life.
When I unlocked it, I found a video message from Sylvia, sent from a burner account.
In the video, Sylvia sat perched on Charlie's lap, her cheeks flushed and her eyes smoldering with desire.
She was toying with the beaded bracelet Charlie always cherished, the one he never took off, and I could even see that they were damp.
There was a message attached: [What does it matter if you return to the Foley family? You're still just a cripple, a useless nobody who can't even keep her man satisfied.]
As the video's graphic sounds filled the air, something inside me snapped. I began laughing—a raw, hysterical sound that echoed my breaking heart.
My heart felt ripped apart, yet never before had my mind been so crystal clear.
In that moment of terrible clarity, I knew I had to make them pay to honor this bleeding wound in my chest.
*****
Later, the maid found me sprawled out on the floor and immediately helped me back into my wheelchair, guiding me gently back to my room.
Someone must've alerted Charlie because he came rushing home in no time, pulling me into his arms as soon as he saw me.
"Wendy, I told you not to wander off alone?" he said, his voice tight with worry.
"The housekeeper said you fell and were laughing and crying. It broke my heart when I heard that. What would I do if something happened to you?" he murmured.
I gently pushed him away, my composure returning enough to offer a faint smile. "I wanted to help tidy up your study, but I tripped before I could even get inside. I just couldn't get back up. The frustration just overwhelmed me."
Though he seemed slightly suspicious, he decided to let it slide.
"Wendy, you don't have to lift a finger. Just let me take care of you," he said softly, his hands moving with gentle precision as he dressed my wound.
Seeing that beaded bracelet on his wrist turned my stomach.
I reached for his hand, forcing myself to sound calm. "After all these years, any evidence from the accident is long gone. Maybe it really was just a freak accident. I'll tell my father to drop the investigation."
He looked genuinely shocked for a second before taking my hand in his. "I think so. That must have been an accident. I'll still help you find answers, but I really hope you can put it behind you.
"Don't worry. Even if you never stand up again, I promise I'll take care of you for the rest of your life. You'll always have me by your side."
He tried to say more, but I was done listening to his lies, so I cut him off. "I'm visiting my father tomorrow to discuss closing the case for good."
*****
The next morning, Charlie couldn't wait to drive me back to my family's place.
My father had arranged for a private doctor to visit our home. After conducting a thorough examination, the doctor assured us the results would be shared directly with the medical team overseas.
Following the checkup, he provided the necessary medication for the procedure.
From the moment I found out I was pregnant to the day he truly walked out of my life, just one week had passed.
Though the decision tore me apart, I knew terminating was the right choice since I couldn't provide a stable future for the child.
That evening, Charlie came by to take me home.
Not wanting to go back with Charlie, I told him, "I want to stay with my family for a few more days. We need to discuss the paperwork for withdrawing the charges."
His disapproving expression softened immediately at the mention of withdrawing the charges.
"Take all the time you need," he replied. "Just call me when you're ready to come home."
Sylvia's texts turned bolder after she found out I was dropping the case.
She kept sending photos of her and Charlie all over the villa, wrapped up in each other like some perfect couple. Sometimes videos, too—always making sure I saw how much happier they were without me.
But I didn't even care anymore—I just kept gathering evidence of her crime and proof that showed Charlie was her accomplice.
Before I was accepted back into the Foley family, Sylvia had reached out and asked me to meet at some remote coffee shop in the mountains. She'd claimed she wanted to spill the truth about the baby swap and the story behind my mother's death.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I found myself agreeing to meet.
Little did I know there was no coffee shop on that mountain road, just the scene of what would become my accident.
By now, my father had nearly pieced together the truth behind my accident when his investigation revealed something even more shocking—Sylvia's possible involvement in my mother's death.
Suddenly, everything made sense to me. I finally understood why my father could never find it in his heart to forgive Sylvia, though he'd raised her as his own daughter.
While we were busy finalizing the case details with the police, Sylvia hit me up again.
Sylvia: [Your fiancé has something special planned for me tonight at the Grando Hotel. You wouldn't want to miss what he has in store, would you?]
Honestly, there was no way I was missing that—especially since I had quite a surprise waiting for them, too.