Keeping myself together, I softly denied it and hung up.

As it turned out, the ring had been custom-made for Natalie from the start. The one I received was just the defective version.

At that moment, it felt like someone had wrapped a hand tightly around my throat. Pain and suffocation came all at once.

Just as I was at the end of my rope, Michael called. His voice was frantic. "Honey, Natalie's covered in red rashes, and her lymph nodes are swollen. What's going on? "You're a doctor. Should she go get checked?"

Listening to him, I became even more certain that Natalie hadn't taken any medication to control the virus after being infected.

Based on her symptoms, this wasn't just late-stage AIDS. There was a strong chance she had other infections as well, like syphilis.

On the other end of the line, Michael pressed impatiently, "Honey, say something. I need an answer!"

I clenched my teeth and replied evenly, "It's probably a common complication. She just needs to rest for a few days."

With that, I hung up.

Outside, the night was heavy.

I put on gloves, carefully gathered Michael's clothes, and brought them to the balcony before setting them on fire.

I knew very well that his infection was only a matter of time. As we lived under the same roof, one careless moment could put me at risk, too.

To avoid alerting him, all I could do for now was keep my distance.

…

Early the next morning, I packed my bags and left.

Only after that did I message him, saying I had gone out of town on a work trip and wouldn't be back for two weeks.

After settling into the hotel, I opened the surveillance app on my phone that I had never used.

A few months earlier, the neighborhood had upgraded its security system and installed cameras in every unit. Michael hadn't been home, and I'd been so busy that I forgot to mention it afterward.

Before long, the bedroom feed flickered to life on my screen.

What I saw made my blood freeze.

I'd been gone less than half a day, but Michael had already brought Natalie home.

She was wearing my nightgown, sitting at my vanity with her legs crossed, twisting open a face cream worth thousands of dollars.

She wasn't using it on her face. She scooped out a large amount and slowly rubbed it onto her feet. Then, apparently finding it inconvenient, she shoved her toes straight into the jar and stirred.

Michael lay nearby, watching without a hint of concern.

"Mike, Josephine's skincare isn't cheap. Won't she be upset if she finds out?" Natalie asked, though her movements never stopped.

He got up lazily, wrapped an arm around her waist, and smiled indulgently. "Her face is a waste of good products anyway. You might as well use it on your feet."

As he spoke, he hooked a finger through the strap of her nightgown.

"It's the same nightgown, but when you wear it, you look sweet and tempting. You're nothing like that old hag. Everything looks like a sack on her."

Natalie leaned into him, laughing uncontrollably.

The moment they rolled onto the bed, I shut off my phone. If I kept watching, I was afraid I'd catch something just through the screen.

…

Soon, two weeks passed.

I took preventive medication in advance, put on a mask, and steeled myself to go home.

I told Michael ahead of time and assumed he would at least send Natalie away.

But when I opened the door, she was still there, lounging on the couch and snacking on my top-grade caviar that cost 300 dollars a gram.

I suppressed my anger and looked at Michael. "Michael, you brought an outsider into our home. Did you not think to discuss it with me?"

Before he could answer, another voice came from the kitchen.

"My son bought this house. He can let whoever he wants live here. Who are you to interfere?"

I was taken aback, only then realizing my mother-in-law, Laura Barker, was there.

She glanced at me impatiently and stepped protectively in front of Natalie. "Besides, Natalie isn't an outsider. She's pregnant. She's the most precious person in the Collins family!"

I shuddered at her words.

When I looked at Michael again, he deliberately avoided my eyes and said, "Honey, you know Mom has always wanted a grandchild. But after all these years… the crib is still empty."

Natalie spoke timidly then. "Josephine, please don't blame Mike. This is my fault. I mixed up my birth control pills with my vitamins and got pregnant by accident. If this makes you uncomfortable, I can go to the hospital right now and get an abortion…"

Her eyes reddened as she pretended to stand.

Laura exploded. She rushed over and slapped me across the face, hard.

"Josephine Schofield, are you trying to end our family name with Michael? I'm warning you. If anything happens to this baby, I won't let you get away with it!"

My ears rang as I covered my face, stunned.

Turning my head to the side, I saw three sets of dinnerware on the dining table.

Laura noticed and said righteously, "I didn't know you were coming back. I only prepared lunch for three people."

I understood the message. Biting my lip, I turned and left.

Laura slammed the door behind me. Even then, I could still hear her raised voice inside.

"Michael, you're a billionaire. You should've divorced that barren excuse for a wife years ago! She's way out of your league and wasting your time!"

I leaned against the door and laughed.

Back then, to support Michael's startup, I interned at the hospital by day and bused dishes at restaurants for extra money.

Every cent I earned went to him.

What was ridiculous was that no matter how much Laura humiliated me, Michael never defended me once.

The sting on my cheek hadn't faded, but all I felt inside was nothing but numbness.

Just then, my phone vibrated with a message from my colleague. "Josephine, I got Natalie's medical records from the CDC."

My brow furrowed, and I immediately tapped on the file. Even though I had expected it, the sheer amount of data still stunned me.

She was infected with late-stage AIDS and tertiary syphilis, which I already knew. What I hadn't anticipated was that she carried more than a dozen additional infectious diseases.

Most of the viruses were transmitted through blood or sexual contact. But close daily contact, shared towels or utensils, or broken skin could all pose risks.

Fortunately, that wasn't my concern anymore. After all, I wasn't the one who'd be suffering.

I applied for long-term leave with the hospital director, packed my bags, and booked a flight to a seaside town I'd always wanted to visit.

On the 20th day after leaving, Michael called.

"Josephine, where have you been? Even sulking has its limits."

When I didn't answer, he softened his tone. "Don't take what my mom said to heart. She was just anxious for a grandchild."

He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Honey, Natalie and I have talked it through. Once she gives birth, I'll give her some money and send her abroad. She won't come back."

"You'll be the child's mother from then on, and the three of us can live as a family," Michael said.

I agreed out loud and went along with what he said, deliberately putting on an act of being deeply moved.

After the call ended, I immediately opened the home surveillance feed.

On the screen, Michael had his arm around Natalie, his tone tinged with smugness. "Don't worry. Josephine's taken care of. Once the baby's born, I'll bring up the divorce. A childless woman like her won't be in a position to compete with you over anything."

Laura sat to the side, smiling broadly as she handed Natalie some supplements. "Michael knows what he's doing. As long as she stays quiet for now, she won't cause trouble and affect your pregnancy. Natalie, have some supplements. This child has to be born strong."

Watching this "harmonious" scene, I laughed until I nearly doubled over.

With Natalie's condition, they were still talking as if a smooth pregnancy were a given. If she could even make it to delivery, that alone would be miraculous.

The three of them were eating and living together every day without any precautions at all. I wouldn't be surprised if Michael and Laura were already infected.

Sure enough, just a few days later, Michael called again. This time, the panic in his voice was unmistakable.

"Josephine, something's wrong with Mom. She's had a high fever for days, and her body's covered in rashes. I haven't been sleeping or eating either. Everything hurts."

Resisting the urge to smile, I kept my voice calm and deliberately gentle. "Darling, the temperature's been dropping lately. It could just be the flu or some kind of viral infection.

"Take care of Mom for now. Once I'm done here, I'll book a flight back. If you need medication, I'll help get it from the hospital when I return."

"Alright… Hurry back," he said, his voice already weak.

After hanging up, I booked my next destination.

I stalled for several more days after that. Michael kept calling nonstop until I was so annoyed that I blocked him.

That was when his assistant reached me instead, his voice clearly shaken. "Mrs. Collins, Mr. Collins collapsed in the conference room today and was rushed to the hospital!

"And Ms. Laura was admitted to the ICU yesterday. The doctors say she's experiencing multi-organ failure and may not have much time left."

Hearing this, I knew the timing had come.

I booked the earliest flight and flew back overnight.

When I arrived at the hospital, the attending doctor asked to speak with me alone and handed me a thick stack of reports, his expression grave.

"Ms. Schofield, as a family member, it would be more appropriate for you to explain this to your husband."

He paused before continuing, his gaze filled with sympathy, "Mr. Collins and his mother's blood test results are back. The situation is extremely complicated. They're currently infected with more than 20 infectious pathogens, including HIV and syphilis. I strongly recommend that you also get tested."

I nodded and took the reports, my expression neutral. "I understand. Thank you."

After changing into protective gear and putting on a mask and goggles, I entered Michael's isolation ward.

He lay on the hospital bed, his face ashen and gaunt. There was an IV in the back of his hand, and monitoring equipment surrounded him.

When he saw how I was dressed, confusion flickered across his face before giving way to fear. "Honey, what exactly is wrong with me? Is it serious? The doctor hasn't told me anything. Did you see my mom? How is she doing?"

I didn't answer. I simply sat down by the bed and pulled out the reports.