Chapter 2

I closed my eyes, resigning myself to my fate, and endured Isabelle's repeated, heavy blows.

Isabelle told Amir to take my still-warm body and go abroad immediately for the transfusion treatment. Then, she calmly cleaned up the brutal mess without batting an eye.

Watching as my blood was washed away bit by bit with a high-pressure water gun, I couldn't help but recall that day.

When she found out Amir had a terminal illness, she almost went insane.

Using her position as a hematologist, under the guise of offering free blood analysis for others, she secretly searched for a suitable blood match for Amir.

I grabbed the dense reports on her desk. "Isabelle, don't you know this is illegal?"

She glared at me fiercely, as if I were the one who caused Amir's serious illness. "I don't care! As long as it gives Amir even a sliver of a chance, I will spare no cost!"

Thinking about it now, I let out a self-mocking laugh. So, I was just an insignificant price she was willing to pay to please Amir, to save him.

Amir went abroad.

Isabelle desperately wanted to go with him; she wanted to personally watch over Amir, to see him recover bit by bit with her own eyes.

But there was still the troublesome matter of me to handle back home.

Isabelle went to my company to submit my resignation letter.

I was naturally quiet and practically invisible at the company.

My boss took the resignation letter from Isabelle, stared at my name on it for a long time, trying hard to remember who I was.

It took him a moment before things finally clicked. "Oh," he said flatly. "Why did he resign? And why are you the one handing in his resignation?"

Isabelle had prepared her words beforehand and answered smoothly, "He went to Ofceyasland the day before yesterday. He's following a relative of ours to do business there."

The boss muttered, "Him? He barely says ten words a day in the office. Can he really manage business?"

Isabelle narrowed her eyes slightly and lowered her head somewhat guiltily. "What did you say?"

"Nothing. I approve his resignation. You can go clear out his things from his desk."

Isabelle put on her sunglasses and said bluntly, "No need. Throw it all away."

As soon as she got home, she rushed straight to my room without delay, packed all the clothes from my wardrobe into a box, and threw them away.

She even found the photos I had secretly taken of her when she wasn't looking.

The corner of her mouth twisted. "You really love patting yourself on the back like this, don't you? You have no idea how much I despise you for it.

"You knew I didn't love you, yet you still clung to me desperately like a starving dog.

"You got what you deserved. But at least in death, you're useful. Your blood will save Amir."

Almost everything in the house that belonged to me was thrown out by her.

The only photo of me was one taken just after we got married, when she suddenly wanted to see me skydiving, so we went abroad to do it.

The photo caught me frozen mid-scream, my face twisted in fear. I looked truly pathetic.

But that day, I actually got the only real smile from her I ever saw, like it was mine alone.

I thought it was worth it.

But now, without any hesitation, she turned and tossed it into the trash bag.

I leaned forward, stretching out my hand meekly to catch it, but the frame passed right through my hand and landed directly in the bag.

Such a beautiful memory back then, it turns out only I was the one moved by my own efforts.

Isabelle never loved me. I always knew that.

Isabelle and I grew up in the same orphanage.

My parents died when I was very young, and her father committed a crime, was sentenced to death, and her mother abandoned her and ran away.

We were the dean's least favorite people. More than once, he was itching to kick us both out.

I've been frail since I was a kid, constantly battling one illness after another.

Isabelle, on the other hand, was a force of nature: stubborn and fierce. She wouldn't swallow the slightest insult; she'd give back ten times what she got.