Marianne stayed quiet, and Suzanne knew she had won.

"Uncle Ken will always remember his late first love and love me," Suzanne added. "I'm her daughter, and I look just like her. But you? Nobody loves you."

She flashed a sly smile and gave Marianne a pitiful look. "You need to realize, the living can never beat the dead."

'True,' Marianne thought, 'the living couldn't compete with the dead.'

But a person with a dead heart didn't need to compete.

"Well, good luck trying to take my place. I hope you and your dear Uncle Ken end up happy together," Marianne said coolly as she stood to leave.

But as she stepped away, Suzanne stuck out her foot.

In an instant, Marianne lost her balance. She fell straight into the lake, and cold water quickly surged around her.

"Ahhh!" she cried. "Help! Hel—"

The foul, freezing water rushed into her mouth, choking her, and leaving her unable to scream properly.

Her limbs went numb, and a sharp ache pierced her stomach.

Even though she knew the baby would eventually leave her body, she instinctively curled around her belly.

"My baby… my baby… hang on," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the splashing.

"Marianne!" a voice broke through her panic.

'Am I hearing things? It sounds like…' she thought, 'Kennedy?'

Just as she was about to sink completely, she felt a hand grab her, pulling her toward the surface.

From the shore, voices shouted.

"Mr. Bryden, don't jump in! You can't swim!"

"Sir, stop! We've already called for help!"

It was indeed Kennedy saving her.

His hand didn't stop gripping hers, pulling her up while the people on the shore reached for her.

That moment was like deja vu 10 years ago.

Back then, he jumped in without thinking, knowing he couldn't swim, just to save her.

"Marianne, don't worry. I'm here!"

Today, he made the same choice.

'Why?' She wanted to ask him so badly. 'Why save me when you don't even love me anymore?'

Before she could speak, Suzanne screamed and jumped into the water.

"Uncle Ken! You can't swim—what if you drown? I'll save you!"

Then she started flailing in the water.

"Uncle Ken… help me…"

"Suzanne! Where are you?" Kennedy immediately let go of Marianne and turned to where Suzanne had fallen.

Marianne reached for him, but he pushed her away.

The shore was so close. If only he had held on for one more second, she could've made it.

But without him to hold her up, the icy water dragged her back under, the shore and the shouting voices becoming distant.

As darkness enveloped her, one thought echoed in her mind.

'Suzanne was right. I can't win against her.'

Ten years ago, Kennedy had jumped in to save her without hesitation.

Now, 10 years later, he let her go just as easily to save Suzanne.

If that's how it was, what was left for Marianne to hold on to?

When she opened her eyes again, the blinding hospital lights made her dizzy.

Dr. Obrien came rushing over, immediately scolding her. "Marianne, do you realize how reckless you were? You almost lost the baby!"

"Whatever. If it's gone, it's gone." Marianne said, giving a half-hearted, lifeless smile. She couldn't even force a real one.

The doctor was stunned.

Marianne had been coming to her for years. Just recently, when Marianne got her pregnancy results, her eyes lit up with joy.

But now… all that light was gone.

"It's that damn Kennedy, isn't it?" the doctor muttered angrily. "Stop saying things out of spite. I'll call him right now and tell him to come stay with you!"

"No need. Don't bother him," Marianne interrupted.

'Don't bother him while he's with someone else,' she wanted to add.

"Marianne, what are you saying?!" the doctor snapped. "If something's wrong with the baby, he needs to know! It's his child! What's he so busy with?"

The usually mild-tempered doctor lost her cool and grabbed her phone, ready to make a call.

But when her eyes landed on Marianne lying on the bed, her resolve softened.

Dr. Obrien was scared. If Suzanne's voice came through on the other end, it might push Marianne over the edge. The baby in her womb would truly be in danger.

"Ugh, forget it, I won't call him. Don't stress yourself out." Dr. Obrien let out a heavy sigh, one after another.

"Okay." Marianne wiped away her tears and turned over, only to see her phone screen light up.

Message after message from Director Angus popped up.

[Marianne, where are you?!]

[Marianne, the sponsor has been waiting for three hours!]

Quickly brushing away her tears, Marianne turned to the doctor. "I can leave now, right?"

Dr. Obrien panicked. "What are you planning to do? Your body can't handle this!"

"Marianne, listen to me!" she added. "The baby's the priority! I'll call Kennedy to pick you up…"

"Marianne! Marianne!"

The heavy sound of the door slamming shut silenced Dr. Obrien's shouts, cutting them off behind the hospital room door.

Meanwhile, Marianne texted the director. [Director Angus, I'm so sorry. I've had some health issues and couldn't make it earlier. If I come now, will it still be okay?]

The reply came swiftly. [What happened? Are you alright?]

Director Angus's concern seemed uncharacteristic. Normally, he wasn't the type to fuss. Still, the warmth in his words tugged at Marianne's heart.

[You've probably heard about someone falling into the lake on set, right? That… that was me.]

As soon as she sent the message, a wave of embarrassment hit her. Anyone on set could tell him what happened—that she had been provoked by his boyfriend's other woman and abandoned by her boyfriend, left humiliated and soaked.

[I'm glad you're safe now. Send me your location. I'll send a car to pick you up.]

Marianne thought he was just being polite, but five minutes later, a sleek Maybach pulled up outside the hospital.

'Director Angus' she thought. 'When did he get so rich?'

"Miss Marlowe, please get in." The driver, wearing white gloves, carefully opened the door for her.

The car's interior carried a light, pleasant fragrance—familiar yet soothing. Marianne couldn't recall where she had smelled it before, but it did calm her nerves.

As the car left the city, the roads became wider, and so did her mood. Soon, she'd be able to restart her career. Her path would only grow brighter.

If she had never paused her acting career to play housewife, who knows how many Best Actress trophies she'd have by now?

Lost in her daydream, her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden call from Alissa Cross, Kennedy's manager.

"Marianne, where are you? Hurry over! Kennedy's in danger!"

Marianne's voice was steady. "Alissa, whatever happens to Kennedy has nothing to do with me. You should talk to Suzanne instead."

"Please, don't be like this, Marianne. I'm begging you, come talk some sense into him!"

"I'm busy right now."

"This is serious! He's going to die! Kennedy's gone mad—he's refusing to use a harness for a rooftop stunt. It's suicide…"

The phone slipped from Marianne's hand and fell to the floor.

She had thought about breaking up with Kennedy. She had thought about never seeing him again. But she had never, not once, thought about him dying.

'Fine. This time, I'd treat it as our final goodbye,' she decided.

"Excuse me, could you take a detour to Skyline Studios?"

Clenching the fabric of her coat, Marianne's palms were damp with cold sweat.

When Marianne showed up at Kennedy's set, it hit her just how bad things really were.

The place was packed—people everywhere, gawking at the chaos like it was the hottest show in town.

The second Alissa saw her, she rushed over and practically dragged her inside.

The moment Marianne met Kennedy's eyes, he looked away first.

"Kennedy, I brought her here! You always listen to her, right? She'll talk some sense into you!" Alissa shoved Marianne forward.

But Kennedy didn't even glance at Marianne. "You shouldn't have come. Don't bother with me."

And then an annoying, child-like voice rang out again.

"Uncle Ken, please come down! Don't risk your life for me!"

Marianne whipped around and stared at Suzanne. 'Risk his life? For her?'

"Oh, so that's Suzanne?" someone whispered nearby. "I heard Kennedy's risking his life just to keep her role."

"Well, the new sponsor's calling the shots now. What can you do? You can't fight the money."

Listening to the discussions around her, Marianne finally pieced everything together.

Apparently, the original investor for Kennedy and Suzanne's film had pulled out. The new sponsor stepped in with one condition: Suzanne could stay in the cast, but only if Kennedy performed a rooftop jump—no harness, no safety net.

So, he was willing to gamble his life… for her career.

And Marianne? Why the hell was she even here?

Alissa's tone softened. "Marianne, I know this is unfair, but come on, it's a life we're talking about here. And he's still your—"

"He's not my anything. We're strangers."

Marianne shook Alissa off, wrapped her coat tighter around herself, and turned to leave.

Just then, Kennedy suddenly leaped off the rooftop.

"Is he okay? Hurry up! Check him!"

"Mr. Bryden!"

"Call an ambulance!"

The crowd lost it. The set was a mess.

Marianne tried to push through, but the panic made it impossible to move. Her breathing got harder and harder.

"Excuse me! Please, let me through—"

But the noisy crowd quickly drowned out her voice. She was shoved and jostled, and the pain in her body was unbearable.

And then she felt it—a warm gush running down her legs.

Could it be…

"Move! Let me through!"

She stumbled through the sea of people, heading toward a car, but the second she got close, a wall of reporters swarmed her.

Flashes blinded her as microphones were shoved in her face.

"Miss Marlowe, is it true your boyfriend jumped off a building for another woman?"

"Miss Marlowe, how do you put up with this? Can you share your experience?"

Seeing that she was alone, the reporter asked more and more harsh questions.

Marianne felt dizzy. "Please make way. It hurts..."

Bur reporter still asked relentlessly.

"Miss Marlowe, are you a doormat in this relationship? Did you just stand by while they were together?"

"Miss Marlowe, who's the real girlfriend here? Are you the side chick? Honestly, you seem like the side chick."

"Miss Marlowe—"

"Enough! Back off!" Out of nowhere, a team of massive security guards pushed through and surrounded her, forming a human shield.

Then, a strong arm pulled her into a protective hold, a black trench coat blocking out the cameras.

"Don't be scared, Marianne. Come with me."

Even though they got her to the hospital in time, it didn't matter. The baby was gone.

Dr. Obrien slammed her fist against the wall in grief.

She'd saved so many patients over the years, but this… this felt personal.

For 10 years, Marianne had fought so hard for her baby.

The therapy and the awful medicine—she went through it all every day with unwavering hope…