When I was eight months pregnant, my husband's foster sister invited me to hike a snow-covered mountain.

Midway up, an avalanche hit. We were both buried.

My husband rushed to the scene, but before I could utter a word, his sister accused me: "She planned this! She tricked me into coming today!"

I tried desperately to explain. He didn't listen.

Instead, he lashed out at me. "Sandra doesn't know any better, but you should! So what if she's blunt? Is this your petty revenge? Your pathetic life couldn't even begin to repay hers if she'd been hurt!"

Then he left. Took her hand. Walked away.

I screamed after him, begging him to save our baby. He didn't even glance back. Worse, he unhooked my safety harness and shoved me out of the rescue group.

"Since you're so clever, find your own way down."

Not long after, another avalanche hit. This time, I couldn't get back up.

Three hours later, Sandra was in a car accident. She needed a blood transfusion. That's when he finally thought of me.

But by then, he didn't know—I was already gone. Me, and the child I'd never hold, were still buried under the snow.

Outside the hospital room, Reese Bradley's face twisted with impatience. "Where the hell is Carmen? She's got that rare blood type. Get her here to give Sandra a transfusion. Now."

His assistant's voice trembled. "Mr. Bradley… it appears Mrs. Bradley is... deceased."

"What do you mean?" Reese's brows knitted, clearly annoyed. "She's probably just sulking because I left her on that mountain. Track her down. Bring her back."

He didn't even turn around as he barked out his next order. "Sandra comes first. Everything else can wait. Once you find Carmen, draw 800cc of blood from her."

The assistant hesitated, his face uneasy. "Sir… the heart-rate bracelet you had made for Mrs. Bradley… it stopped. That means… it's very likely both she and the baby are…"

Before he could finish, Reese turned sharply, his expression dark. "She's throwing another tantrum, isn't she? She did the same thing last time—took off the monitor just to threaten me. Unbelievable. Even with lives on the line, she still plays games like this.

"Go. Find her. Bring her in and draw the blood. I don't care how you do it. Even if she tries to use that bastard child in her belly to bargain, ignore her."

At the word "bastard," my soul—already detached from my body—wavered.

My nails dug deep into my ghostly palms as I watched him, face tense with irritation, giving out orders. Not a trace of sorrow. Not even a flicker of regret.

I closed my eyes. Tears slid silently down my cheeks.

'Reese… I regret ever meeting you. I regret ever loving you…'

As soon as the assistant left, Reese turned back—just in time to see the operating room lights go out.

He rushed forward, anxiety all over his face. "Doctor, how is Sandra? How much blood does she need?"

Before the doctor could answer, he pressed on. "I've already sent someone to get it. 800cc will be here soon. Just do everything you can to save Sandra. I'll handle the rest."

I stood there, watching my husband, a cold and decisive businessman, now completely unraveled for one woman.

A cold, bitter smile tugged at my lips. Not even when I nearly miscarried did he show this kind of panic.

The doctor removed his mask and let out a slow breath. "She's stable for now. But we need to transfuse blood as soon as possible. I just got word—another surgery's waiting. I'll head there first."

Moments later, a nurse wheeled out Sandra.

At the same time, another patient was rushed in. Nearby, two nurses whispered to each other.

"Wow, that woman's lucky—her boyfriend's so good-looking, and he's stayed by her side the whole time. Not like the pregnant one they just brought in. She was already eight months along…"

"Yeah… I don't get it. What were her husband and in-laws thinking, allowing a pregnant woman to hike up a snowy mountain…"

Hearing their conversation, I figured the patient they mentioned was probably my body.

I turned to look at Reese and saw him completely absorbed, eyes fixed on Sandra, oblivious to everything else around him. His voice was full of worry. "Sandra, don't worry. I've already sent people to find Carmen. Her blood type's the same as yours. She'll save you."

Fresh out of surgery, Sandra was pale, her voice faint. "Reese, if you do that… Carmen won't be happy. You shouldn't upset her. She's still carrying your child, after all. Carmen was right about one thing—since I'm not your biological sister, I should've left the family long ago. I never should've stayed and caused so much trouble."

Reese tensed the moment she said that.

He grabbed her hand, almost panicking. "What are you talking about? You are my sister. I won't allow you to leave the family. Where would you even go? Back to that house where they used to beat you? If you hadn't helped me escape those traffickers back then, I wouldn't even be alive today. Don't overthink it. Carmen won't say no. She loves me so much—of course she'll be willing to give blood."

I stood by, watching him gently coax Sandra into his arms.

And then I laughed.

So that's what it was all along…

All these years of being unwelcome, pushed aside—it was because Sandra had once saved Reese.

But then something in my memory shifted. The guy I had saved back then… it was Reese. It had been I who helped Reese escape. Alone. I was the one who stood in front of those traffickers and got beaten to the brink of death. I had a high fever for days. I nearly died.

And Sandra? She was the one who reported me. I still remembered that part vividly.

By the time I came to, she had already been adopted by Reese's family.

Meanwhile, my real family had found me. I was taken back to my biological home.

As the memories faded, I looked at the two of them curled up together on that hospital bed.

A bitter smile curled at my lips.

Reese, if you knew the truth, would you still look at your precious sister the same way?

The girl you've cherished for so long—she was half the reason I nearly died.

After soothing Sandra, Reese stepped into the hallway to make a call.

Curious, I drifted closer. He was calling me.

The screen kept flashing "no connection."

I scoffed. I was dead. How could a call possibly go through?

When the call finally cut off, his face darkened. He tapped on a chatting app to text me, only to discover I'd been blocked for a long time.

After removing me from the blacklist, he typed a message:

[Carmen, don't make this any worse than it already is. Get to the hospital and donate blood for Sandra. Or don't blame me for divorcing you!]

Reese always liked using "divorce" to threaten me into submission. Even when I clearly didn't want to do something, he'd still hold that word over my head.

And every time, it was because of Sandra.

Just then, his phone rang.

He glanced at the screen and smirked like he'd expected it all along. He let it ring until the last possible second before answering.

"Carmen, glad to see you've come to your senses. Sandra and I are at Ragner Hospital. Get over here and donate 800cc of blood. If you do that, I might forgive your little tantrum from earlier."

He finished speaking and waited for a reply.

A moment later, a stranger's voice came through the line.

"Are you the next of kin for this number's owner? I'm sorry… she's already dead. Her body's at Ragner—"

Before the voice on the other end could finish, Reese cut him off.

"Don't be ridiculous! Carmen loves me, and she's eight months pregnant with my child! How could she just die like that?"

His voice sharpened. "Did she bribe you? Are you putting on some kind of act? I'll pay you double. Bring Carmen to the hospital—right now. I don't care how you do it. Just get her here."

With that, he hung up.

I watched him quietly. I wasn't sure what I should feel—grief, relief, or some hollow version of both.

"Reese…" Sandra called out softly. "Does Carmen not want to donate blood to me? Should I go apologize to her? Or maybe… I can do whatever she wants, as long as she's not upset with you. I'll do anything."

At some point, Sandra had come to stand behind him. She clasped her hands to her chest, looking up at him, eyes full of fragile hope.

Reese, clearly moved, stepped forward and gently stroked her hair. "You already endured so much to help me and those other kids escape back then. I can protect you now. I won't let you suffer again."

A flicker of guilt passed through Sandra's eyes. She quickly looked away and changed the subject.

"I just hope Carmen made it out of the snow mountain… What if something happened?"

"There's no 'what if,'" Reese replied firmly. "She's a rescue worker. She's climbed that mountain hundreds of times. She knows it like the back of her hand. There's no way she didn't make it out. Sandra, you're too kind. After everything she's done to you, you're still worried about her? You nearly died on that mountain because of her."

His expression darkened. The moment he mentioned me, it was like a dam broke—his disgust and resentment poured out unchecked.

"If my parents hadn't forced me, I'd never have married someone so toxic."

His words struck like knives. We had been married three years. Three years. And this was how he saw me?

Inside the VIP hospital suite, he gently laid Sandra onto the bed, his voice full of concern. "Don't run around barefoot next time. You know your body's weak."

She stuck out her tongue playfully. "I was just scared. I opened my eyes and you weren't there… I couldn't sleep. Reese, you haven't stayed with me at night in so long. Don't go, okay?"

She tugged on his hand, eyes wide and dewy.

I stood frozen, memories rising like smoke from the depths of my mind.

The first time I met Reese, I recognized him instantly as the boy I had once helped escape.

Over time, I fell in love with him. And I truly believed he felt the same way.

Until one day, I saw Sandra walking around his house, barefoot, wearing his shirt and nothing else. I'd pointed at her, shaking, demanding to know what they were to each other.

His expression hadn't changed. His voice was calm as he replied, "She's just my foster sister. Our parents are away right now, and she's afraid to be alone. Don't be so sensitive."

But they'd already slept together.

That much was clear now.

No wonder… no wonder his eyes had flickered when I asked about the marks on her neck. It had all been right there, if I'd only dared to see it.

Just then, his phone rang. It was his assistant.

"Mr. Bradley… there's been a second avalanche on the snow mountain. Your wife… she really didn't survive it…"