Chloe's head snapped to the side from the slap. She froze for a few seconds, then burst into heaving sobs, clutching the baby against her chest, shaking all over.

My mother saw it and came charging forward, trembling with rage, and slapped me across the face.

Harder than before. My cheek swelled instantly, and blood seeped from the corner of my mouth.

“You ungrateful wretch! You actually dared hit Chloe! You've completely lost your mind!”

Mark rushed over and gathered Chloe carefully into his arms.

When he turned to look at me, his eyes were cold. “Constance, are you insane? You put your hands on Chloe! Apologize to her. Right now.”

I pressed my hand to my burning cheek, biting down hard on my lip. “I'm not apologizing! She accused me first. Why won't any of you believe me?!”

Mark let out a cold laugh and stepped closer, leaning in toward me.

“You won't apologize? Constance, don't forget. I'm still your boss.”

“That chance to study overseas you've been waiting for? Whether you get it comes down to one word from me.”

“You care so much about this job, about this chance. You really want to wreck it all with your own hands over a tantrum?”

I stared at him in disbelief.

He knew. He knew exactly how hard I'd worked for this, how many years I'd poured into it.

His threat left me no choice.

Work had been my only way out of this family.

Before I ever met Mark, all I wanted was to be independent, to move out of this house.

Falling in love with him hadn't changed that. I never let go of the plan.

Go overseas, come back, build a real career, stand on my own two feet. That was the whole point of everything I'd done.

And Mark knew it perfectly well.

After I apologized, I went back to my room, shut the door, and finally broke. I wrapped my arms around myself and sobbed until I couldn't breathe.

Once again, I was the person the whole world had thrown away.

A long time later, Chloe's gentle voice drifted through the door：“Connie, I made you some soup. To help you feel better. Will you open the door?”

She came in carrying a bowl of soup.

I stopped her. “Get out.”

The gentleness dropped off her face. She sneered：“You think you can steal my man? You're not even close.”

“I actually came to offer you a way out.”

“Leave this house on your own. Disappear from Mark's life for good. It's better for everyone……”

I cut her off. “I feel sorry for my brother. He died without ever seeing what you really are……”

The smugness dropped from her face. Her voice turned vicious：“Shut your mouth! You little bitch, everyone in this house hates you. Why don't you just die? You should've been dead a long time ago……”

Halfway through, her expression changed. Her eyes went vicious.

Then she let her foot slip on purpose, and the entire bowl of scalding soup splashed across her own body.

A piercing scream tore out of her, and the tears came instantly.

“Connie, why would you do this to me? I brought you soup out of kindness, and you threw it on me?”

“I know you hate me, but I've never done anything to hurt you……”

And then Mark appeared.

He strode to Chloe's side, checking her burns with careful hands, his face tight with pain and fury.

He turned to me, and his voice was laced with cold hatred：“Constance, you've gone too far! Chloe was trying to be kind to you, and this is what you do to her?”

“Is this what I get for indulging you? You think there's nothing you can't do?”

Only then did it hit me what had just happened, and the words tumbled out on instinct：“It wasn't me! She poured it on herself on purpose! She's framing me!” “Mark, believe me. I didn't hurt her!”

Mark let out a cold laugh.

“Chloe is the gentlest person alive. Why would she ever hurt herself?”

Chloe leaned against his chest, crying and pleading on my behalf at the same time：“Mark, don't scold Constance. Maybe she really didn't mean it. I don't blame her.”

But her eyes never left mine, sharp with provocation, and the faintest smirk played at the corner of her mouth.

My mother heard the commotion and came upstairs. One look at Chloe and she didn't even ask what happened. She just pointed at me and started screaming.

“I can't believe I gave birth to an animal!”

“Get out, Constance!”

“From now on, don't you dare set foot in this house again! You are no daughter of mine!”

Mark looked at me, his tone ice-cold, more command than speech：“Apologize to Chloe, Constance. Then get the hell out.”

So that was it. Everyone wanted me gone.

Fine. I didn't want to stay in this house anyway.

I walked aimlessly through the freezing wind in nothing but a thin jacket, shivering so hard my teeth rattled.

After a long time, Mark's car pulled up beside me.

The window slid down. His voice was casual, as if nothing had happened.

“Get in. It's freezing out here. Are you trying to kill yourself?”

I didn't move. I just stared at him：“It's over between us, Mark. Stop following me.”

He scoffed, his voice dripping with contempt.

“Over? It's over when I say it's over.”

“Where do you think you'll go? You have no money, no place to live, no family backing you up. You can't survive out there.”

He pushed the door open and dragged me into the car.

Then his voice softened, slipping back into that familiar tenderness as his hand stroked my hair：“Baby, don't throw a tantrum, okay?”

“I know you feel wronged. But there's nothing I can do.”

“Chloe's raising a child on her own. It's not easy. I have to help her.”

“Once I've sorted everything out, I'll come back to you. I won't leave again. Okay?”

I shoved his hand away. “Could you stop making me sick?”

The softness dropped from his face in an instant. “Constance, I'm being nice. Don't make me stop.”

“Be good. Stop making me angry. And don't try fighting me again.”

“Because trust me, I have plenty of ways to make you regret it.”

The car pulled up at an apartment I'd never seen before.

Chloe's presence was everywhere inside. Her skincare, her clothes, even framed photos of her and the baby.

“This is where Chloe and I have been staying. You'll live here from now on. Take care of her and the baby, and stop causing problems.”

His tone was flat and final. “Consider it your chance to make up for what you did to Chloe.”

“Remember what you are. You're the mistress. Don't ask what isn't your business, don't meddle in what isn't your concern. Do as you're told, and maybe I'll still have some patience left for you.”

The words had barely left his mouth when Chloe walked in, the baby in her arms.

She saw me and her lips curved into a taunting smile：“Constance, you're here? How nice. We'll be living together from now on.”

“Mark says you'll be handling all the housework. My health isn't great, and I have the baby to look after, so I'll be counting on you.”

She held the baby out toward me：“Here, Constance, hold the baby for me. I need to rest for a bit.”

“After all, someone just threw soup all over me. I should probably go take a shower.”

Before I could reach out, she let go. The baby dropped straight toward the floor.

My hands moved before I thought. I caught the baby.

The second he was in my arms, he let out a shriek that split the room.

Chloe was on me instantly—snatched him away and rounded on me：“What is wrong with you? You did something to him, didn't you?!”

“Shh, don't cry, don't cry, Mommy's here. Why are there red marks all over his neck? Those are fingerprints!”

“It was you! Constance! You tried to strangle him!”

“How can you be this vicious? He's a baby!”

I had only been checking whether the child was alright. Mark stepped forward and shoved me, hard.

I stumbled and fell, my forehead cracking against the edge of the coffee table. Blood ran down my face instantly.

“Are you insane, Constance? You tried to kill him!”

Mark's voice was pure fury. Not a trace of concern in his eyes. Nothing but cold accusation.

Chloe leaned into his arms and watched me on the floor, a winner's smile curling at the corner of her mouth.

I sat there, blood sliding down my cheek from my forehead.

The baby's crying gradually settled, and only then did Mark seem to remember I was still crumpled on the ground.

I got to my feet slowly. He moved toward me. “Connie, you're bleeding. Come here, let me see……”

I stepped back. I didn't want him touching me.

He kept coming.

I kept retreating, revulsion and fear driving every step, until my heel caught on the child's scooter behind me.

My whole body pitched backward, completely out of control.

Mark lunged to grab me, but his fingers only caught the hem of my shirt, and the force wasn't right. Instead of pulling me back, he sent me over the balcony railing.

“Connie!” I heard him scream.

It was the first time I'd ever seen real fear in his eyes—not the performed kind, but actual panic.

I thought it was over. That this was the way out. My body was weightless, falling, and my mind went completely blank.

But the next second he had me in his arms, scooping me up with a force that felt unhinged.

He half-carried, half-dragged me into the car, slammed the accelerator to the floor, and tore toward the hospital.

His hands wouldn't stop shaking the entire way. He couldn't focus, couldn't sit still.

At the hospital I was wheeled straight into surgery.

Mark paced outside the operating room for over three hours, white-faced, jaw clenched, hands still trembling, until the light above the door finally went dark.

That was when his phone rang. It was Chloe.

Her voice came through soft and fragile：“Mark, I feel terrible. I think I'm having an allergic reaction. I can barely breathe. Can you please come back and stay with me?”

He looked at me, just wheeled out, still unconscious. Something flickered in his eyes. Then he leaned close to my ear.

“Connie—I'm sorry, Chloe can't manage without me. I'll be back soon, okay? I'll be quick.”

He turned and walked out of the hospital.

The nurses wheeled me into a room alone. My consciousness drifted back in fragments.

The pain was everywhere, so bad I could barely move, but the despair underneath it was worse.

“You're awake? How are you feeling?”

I turned toward the unfamiliar voice. A doctor.

He pulled down his surgical mask, and I looked up. My breath caught.

It was Nolan Gilbert. The blind date my father had arranged.

Years ago, my father had divorced my mother. Her volatility had finally driven him away for good.

He'd gone overseas alone and taken a teaching position at a university abroad.

Not long before all of this, he'd introduced me to Nolan.

He said that in all his years of teaching, Nolan was the finest student he'd ever had.

But I'd been with Mark then, so I turned my father down again and again.

Nolan recognized me too. Surprise flickered across his face, and then something that looked like pain. ：“It's me. You're not mistaken.”

I looked at him. A faint light surfaced in my eyes, only to be swallowed almost instantly by despair.

My voice came out so weak it was barely audible. ：“Dr. Gilbert, can you do me a favor?”

He stiffened for a moment, then nodded without hesitation. ：“Name it. If it's in my power, I'll do it.”

I held his gaze and said it word by word. ：“Write me a death certificate.”