Chapter 3

My words left Dr. Reed speechless.

Veronica's face twisted into an ugly mask, but she quickly composed herself, her eyes now brimming with fake tears. "It's fine, don't blame Cassidy. It's just my bad luck..." She continued, her voice weak but laced with manipulative urgency. "I'm dying, but I have a daughter, barely a year old. She's so helpless. Cassidy, you're my best friend. Please, I beg you, raise her for me."

Dr. Reed, ever the bleeding heart, let two clear streams of tears fall. "See? Ms. Veronica is practically begging you. Just say yes! You're her best friend! Could you really be so cruel as to refuse?"

All I felt was a profound sense of annoyance. In my previous life, I'd given so much blood, leaving me dazed and weak, and Veronica had even colluded with Dr. Reed to set this whole trap. I'd been too soft-hearted, which was why I had agreed to care for her daughter. But my kindness hadn't been repaid. Brandon harbored an immediate hostility towards the adopted girl, convinced she was my illegitimate child with some other man. He refused to listen to a single explanation, packed his bags, and walked out on me, simultaneously alienating himself from his own family.

I was still in college then. Unable to juggle my studies and a baby, I had no choice but to drop out. Without a degree, I was condemned to grueling manual labor. To provide for the child, I worked three jobs a day, often surviving on only three or four hours of sleep. The child's health was fragile from birth. She was in and out of hospitals, undergoing several major surgeries, draining money like a sieve. I gritted my teeth and took out a predatory loan. But with interest compounding, it became impossible to repay. The debt collectors were brutal, harassing everyone around me. My landlord refused to renew my lease, throwing me and the child out onto the street. To escape the collectors, I moved countless times, always into the most rundown, grimy places I could find.

After slogging through the toughest ten years, I finally encountered a kind-hearted male boss. He was a single dad, and he sympathized with my struggles, taking me in to work at his barbecue joint. Once I had stable work, I thought about finding a partner. But with no home, no car, dirt poor, and a kid in her early teens—finding a partner was a pipe dream. I finally met a simple, honest man who claimed not to mind my circumstances, and I thought I could finally settle down. But after barely two months, he fled, leaving only a note apologizing and saying he still couldn't let go of his ex-wife and kids. I gave up on ever finding love again.

Eighteen years passed. The child I'd poured my life into was now an adult. But then, at her celebration party, the impossible happened: Veronica, who was supposed to be dead, appeared. And claimed it was all just a test. Did I really need her as a friend? I'd wasted the most precious eighteen years of my life!

Without that child, I would have graduated, landed a great job, built a respectable career, and had a loving, happy family. My life should have flourished, but she destroyed it! Even the child I'd poured my entire heart and soul into, at the first sign of conflict, chose her biological parents and turned against me. The hatred surging within me threatened to drown me whole. I clenched my fists, each word a venomous whisper. "No, I refuse."

"I'll take her to an orphanage, but I will absolutely not raise your child for you."