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…"

Reese had the speakerphone on.

Sandra heard everything. Tears welled up in her eyes, brimming with fragile sorrow.

"It's all my fault," she whimpered. "I made Carmen angry. She must hate me now… sob… Reese, I want to go look for her. Maybe she's just hiding somewhere, waiting for me to say sorry. As soon as I apologize, once she forgives me, she won't keep scaring you like this anymore."

In just a few sentences, Sandra had twisted my death into a tantrum—another of my petty tricks, a fake message meant to mislead them.

I clenched my fists. I already knew the truth in my heart, but still, I found myself glancing at Reese, waiting.

He was quiet for a moment. Then his expression turned cold.

"Keep looking," he snapped at the assistant. "Carmen's a snake. She loves playing these games with me. The moment you find her, hand her that signed divorce agreement. If she won't sign it, force her to. She's no longer my wife. And don't forget to take 800cc of her blood."

I laughed bitterly.

'Reese, you truly are ruthless.'

He was ready to divorce me, and still, he wouldn't let me go quietly.

800 cc of blood—enough to overwhelm a healthy adult man. And I… I was eight months pregnant.

'You're not even human, Reese.'

At this point, all I wanted was to see the look on his face when he learned the truth about my death.

After hanging up, he turned to Sandra. A strange softness rose in his eyes. "Sandra, get some rest. I—"

"Reese," she cut in, flinging her arms around his waist, voice trembling, "why don't you want me? We already… it already happened. Don't worry, I won't tell Carmen."

Reese hesitated. His gaze flickered, avoiding hers. "That… that night was an accident. I was drunk. You were drunk. It just—"

"Is it because I'm not as good as Carmen?" Her voice cracked. "Not as pretty? Not as smart? Is that why you won't marry me? I've loved you since we were kids, but you always push me away…"

Before she could finish the sentence, Reese pulled her close, and the two of them fell into each other—bodies entwined, breathless.

I squeezed my eyes shut, fists trembling. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes, silently.

An hour passed.

Reese dressed and prepared to leave. Just as he reached the door, Sandra's voice stopped him.

"Reese… once you've divorced Carmen, will you marry me? Give me a real wedding?"

This time, he didn't hesitate. "Okay."

Something inside me clenched, like a knot pulled tighter with every word.

As soon as he stepped out of the room, he found his assistant waiting in the hallway. His face was calm, without the slightest trace of guilt or shame.

"Did you find her?" Reese asked directly.

The assistant lowered his head respectfully. "We did, sir. But I'm afraid she won't be able to donate blood to Miss Bradley."

"She refuses? Fine. I won't divorce her then. But she must donate the blood—"

Before he could finish, the assistant interrupted, "No, that's not it, Mr. Bradley. She's… she's dead. The child, too. They didn't make it. Their bodies are at the morgue on the eighteenth floor. No one's claimed them yet."

Reese scoffed. "Carmen's dead? That woman's terrified of death. She wouldn't just die. She's trying to trick me. Go find her. Sandra doesn't have the luxury of waiting. I don't care if Carmen's unwilling—drag her here if you have to."

He didn't believe it. Not a word.

To him, I was just being difficult again, avoiding my duty to donate blood.

The assistant hesitated, then pulled out his phone. "Mr. Bradley, maybe you should see this first…"