Chapter 3

Nina's lips trembled.

Andrew's frown deepened. "Where did you get all this?"

"Surveillance footage," I said. "What you should be asking is why she's so afraid of cameras."

Nina immediately grabbed Andrew's sleeve. "Andrew, I didn't do it. I really didn't.

"I just wanted to talk to Mrs. Grant. Back then, she misunderstood me, and I was scared she'd tell Emily even more awful things about me."

My mother suddenly spoke from the hospital bed. Her voice was soft, but every word was clear. "I didn't misunderstand you. Nina, ten years ago, you took that red scarf."

Andrew's whole body went visibly stiff. The red scarf hit his weakest spot.

Ten years ago, Andrew was in a car accident. It was pouring that day, and his car flipped under a bridge in the old district.

Someone smashed the window, pulled him out while he was unconscious, then used a red scarf to press down on his wound until the ambulance arrived.

When Andrew woke up, the only thing he remembered was that red scarf. Later, Nina appeared and told him she was the one who had saved him. From that moment on, he kept her close to his heart.

He loved her not just because of some old crush from his youth, but because he believed Nina had saved his life.

But that wasn't the truth. The person who saved him that day was me.

I was only nineteen then, and a long gash had been cut across my back by broken glass. My mom was afraid the Collins Family would bring us trouble, so she took me back to the hospital to get treated.

Later, my scarf disappeared. And not long after that, Nina became Andrew's so-called savior.

In my old life, my mom only managed to tell me the truth in fragments before she died. She said it wasn't that she had to help me fight for credit.

She just couldn't accept that I had saved someone, only to be driven into a corner by that same person while he protected a liar.

Andrew turned to my mom. "Mrs. Grant, what do you mean?"

My mom closed her eyes for a moment. "The ER still has records from that year. The girl who saved you was my daughter. She got thirteen stitches in her back. I kept all the payment records."

Nina's face went deathly pale. "That's not true, Andrew. Don't listen to them. I was hurt too back then. You know that. I still have the scar on my wrist."

I couldn't help laughing. "That scar? You made it later by cutting yourself on glass."

Nina shouted at me, "Emily, shut up!" That one scream ripped a crack straight through her fragile little act.

Andrew stared at her. "Nina?"

She snapped back to herself and burst into tears again. "I'm just scared, Andrew. I'm really scared. They just want to take you away from me."

I stood up, took out a photocopy, and handed it to Andrew. "This is the ER registration record from the old district community hospital from ten years ago.

"You can verify it. I'm not afraid of you looking into it. She is."

Andrew didn't take it. He just stared at me, and for the first time, I saw hesitation in his eyes.

In my old life, I had waited far too long for even that little bit of hesitation. I waited for him to believe me. I waited for him to turn back. I waited for him to say he was sorry.

But until the day I died, he never did. And now, I no longer needed any of it.

I placed the documents on the table and said to him, "Andrew, it's actually good that you came today. I've already had my lawyer draft the divorce agreement."

His expression turned cold instantly, and he asked, "Emily, are you done making a scene?"

I answered him calmly, "No. But I'm done fighting with you. I'll give you what you want. Nina is back. Haven't you been waiting for her for ten years? I'll step aside."

For a brief second, Nina's tears stopped. And in that second, there was no happiness on her face—only wariness. That was because she knew too well what I used to be like.

The old Emily would have cried, argued, and demanded to know whether Andrew had ever had a heart.

But the me standing here now was too calm—so calm that it seemed as if I had already dug the pit for them and was only waiting for them to jump in.

Andrew let out a cold laugh and said, "Divorce? Can you really bear to do that?"

I looked at him and replied, "Yes, I can. Mr. Collins, if you're worried, I can sign it right now."

Right in front of him, I took out the agreement. The first page was the divorce terms. The second page was the property division. The third page was the ownership of the project copyrights.

The fourth page stated that Collins Group was no longer allowed to use any planning concepts, designs, visual materials, written content, or branding proposals that had been registered under my personal name.

The moment Andrew flipped to the fourth page, his face darkened completely.