Chapter 6
We met up at the noodle shop right by my apartment complex entrance.
I told her the whole story, start to finish. Lily Turner listened as she ate, her chopsticks frozen mid-air before she finally slammed them down on the table.
"Hold on. You said his phone was 'unreachable' for those three days? So it wasn't just switched off?" she asked.
"Yeah," I said.
"Lina, you've worked in a hospital for years. You seriously don't know the difference between those two?"
Of course I knew. 'Powered off' means the phone's off. 'Unreachable' means the phone's on, but something's been done to make it impossible to get through.
"And you said there's no record of that state medical symposium?" Lily asked.
"Nope, nothing," I responded.
"So where did he really go?"
I slid the printed screenshot across the table to her. It was Sophia's social media feed—concert tickets, hotel location, everything.
Lily Turner stared at it for ten seconds, then looked up at me.
"Lina, you married a bastard."
"Don't start trash-talking him yet. I still don't have hard proof he was with her those three days."
"What more proof do you need? Two concert tickets. Same city. Same three days. He disappears for three days, and so does she. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what was going on," Lily shot back.
"Sure, I know how it adds up," I said, twirling my noodles. "But I can’t let him figure it out yet. His whole family’s got his back—no matter what I say, they won’t believe me. I need something he can’t talk his way out of."
Lily Turner stared at me for a long moment.
"You've changed."
"What?"
"Back then, if you heard something like this, you'd have raised hell right away. Now you're actually thinking about evidence and strategy."
I gave a wry smile—not because it was funny, but because I felt ridiculous.
"Back then, even after I blew up, I still had to go home, cook, take care of his mom, and wait for him to come back. What was the point of fighting? Even if I ‘won,’ he’d just turn the whole family against me and make me look like the unreasonable one."
"This time, I'm not going to make a scene."
"So what's your plan?"
I took a sip of the noodle soup.
"I want everyone to see with their own eyes what Ethan was up to during those three days."
Lily Turner was quiet for a moment, then pulled out her phone.
"The Royal Crest Hotel, right? I've got a friend who's the front desk manager there. Want me to see if I can pull their guest records for you?" she asked.
"No need," I said. "I've got another way."
Lily Turner stared at me. "What way?"
I didn't answer.
That night, when I got home, Ethan was already asleep. I sat down in the living room and made a call.
The person on the other end picked up right away.
"Hey, it's me, Lina," I said. "I need a favor."
They said something, and I listened for a moment, nodding.
"Alright, thanks for your help," I said.
After hanging up, I deleted the call log, took a shower, and went to bed.
Ethan was lying next to me, breathing evenly.
His phone was on the nightstand, screen down.
I closed my eyes.
Over the next few days, life went on as usual. I still got up early to cook, spent my days at the hospital taking care of Grace, dealt with the mounting medical bills, and played hostess to Ethan's endless stream of relatives.
But Sophia was different.
She came by almost every day—sometimes in the morning, sometimes in the afternoon—always bringing a new soup or dessert. Creamy Chicken Soup, Cordyceps Pigeon Soup, Peach Resin and Snow Fungus Sweet Soup. Her thermos was always some high-end brand, wrapped in a hand-stitched fabric sleeve.
Whenever Sophia showed up and Ethan was there, she'd just change completely—her voice got gentle, her eyes softened, and even the way she moved seemed more relaxed.
One time, I walked past the hospital room and heard Grace laughing inside.
"Sophia, you’re way better in the kitchen than Lina. Honestly, Ethan should have ended up with you," Grace said.
"Grace, please don't say that. Lina's actually really nice," Sophia replied softly.
"Nice? She's always got that cold face. Whenever I try to talk to her, she barely even responds. But you—you're so sweet, always coming up with new soups for me," Grace said.
I was standing in the doorway with three prescriptions I'd just picked up from the pharmacy.
Ethan was inside too, sitting in a chair by the bed with his laptop open, going over some medical records.
When he heard his mom say that, he didn't say anything to defend me.
His silence was basically him agreeing with her.
I walked in and put the meds on the nightstand.
"Mom, here's your medicine for today. Take them half an hour after eating. The white one's for pain, the two yellow ones are for inflammation, and the capsule's to keep blood clots away," I said.