I waited and waited, but Charles never came. When I finally called him, what I got instead was Lily's death sentence.

I wanted to rush out and confront Charles like a madwoman. The moment I burst through the door, I ran straight into his assistant, who fell to his knees at my feet, sobbing, telling me it was too late.

That beating heart had already been transplanted into Bryce's body.

They'd injected the pre-surgery drugs. The operation never happened. My Lily was gone forever.

Lily's smile, her laughter, her little voice—all of it tangled together with Charles's cold, clinical tone. Hatred crashed over me like a tidal wave.

I forced myself to stay calm. I turned around, went to Charles's office, and took the key to the medical records room.

A few minutes later, the surveillance footage of Charles performing Bryce's surgery was saved on my phone.

I curled up in the hospital corridor, watching the recording.

In the operating room, Charles issued his orders without a shred of hesitation:

"Transplant the donor heart into Bryce."

"But Dr. Abbott, this child doesn't need a transplant! This heart was meant for Lily—Lily can't wait any longer—"

"Shut up! A few meals from my wife and you forget whose side you're on?!"

"This heart goes to Bryce! Lily can wait for the next one!"

"If she can't handle a little hardship, she doesn't deserve to be my child!"

The hardship Bryce couldn't handle, Lily had to bear instead.

Charles. What a selfless, devoted Director Abbott.

I gripped my phone until my knuckles went white.

Charles. You killed Lily. And now your brilliant career is over.

After I made sure Lily was properly taken care of in the morgue, I dragged my exhausted body home.

The moment I opened the door, I saw Mia and Bryce sprawled across my sofa.

At the sound of the lock, Charles emerged from the kitchen wearing an apron.

"Althea, what are you standing there for? Hurry up and change your shoes—come help me in the kitchen!"

He gestured toward Mia and Bryce on the couch, a flicker of bashfulness crossing his face.

"Bryce's surgery was a success, so Mia brought him over to thank me. And you too, of course—his wonderful mentor's wife."

"Come on, don't just stand there. We have guests! Go make them feel welcome!"

"Oh, and I haven't seen Lily since I got home. Where did that girl run off to? Call her back—she should be here playing with Bryce!"

Mia looked up at me lazily from the sofa, wearing my slippers, her smile thin and reluctant.

Bryce's snack crumbs had fallen onto Lily's slippers, leaving a large greasy stain.

Lily had always been so careful about keeping things clean.

Humiliation upon humiliation pressed against my chest until I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't take it anymore.

I slammed the door with all my strength and pointed at Lily's empty room, screaming like a woman possessed:

"Charles! Lily is dead!"

In an instant, the lively room went deathly silent.

Charles froze.

He poked his head out from the kitchen and stared at me.

After a long moment, his voice turned ice-cold.

"Althea, this again? It's getting old. Bryce just got out of surgery, and you're going on about death? Who exactly are you putting on this show for?"

"Lily's been spoiled rotten by you. Guests come over and she's nowhere to be found—off running wild somewhere. If she doesn't want to come home that badly, then fine—don't come back at all! Mia and Bryce can sleep in her room tonight."

"And you, Althea—if you insist on ruining the mood, then you can leave too!"

He waved Bryce over from the sofa.

"Go on, Bryce. You've always wanted to sleep in your big sister Lily's room, haven't you? Tonight, it's all yours!"

The moment Bryce heard this, he scrambled off the couch and darted toward Lily's room.

Mia hurried after him.

As she passed me, a flash of triumph flickered in her eyes.

My heart lurched.

That look told me everything—she knew about Lily's death.

Something inside me shattered.

I didn't even take off my shoes. I charged toward Lily's room like a woman possessed, pointing at Mia and Bryce, my voice tearing out of my throat.

"Get out!"

"Get out of Lily's room!"

Bryce burst into tears.

In the blink of an eye, Mia's voice took on a tearful tremor. "Mrs. Pruitt, what are you doing? Bryce just had surgery—if you scream at him like this, something could happen to him..."

I fixed my gaze on her, teeth clenched. "You knew Lily was already—"

Slap!

Before I could finish, Charles's palm struck my face.

"Althea! Are you done with this nonsense?!"

"Charles, Lily is dead! If you don't believe me, go to the hospital morgue—she's lying there right now!"

"And your precious student Mia knew all along!"

"Do you even know how Lily died? You killed her! You took the donor heart and—"

"You're insane!!"

Charles's roar cut me off again.

He grabbed me by the collar and dragged me to the storage room, slamming the door and locking me inside.

Then he called the psychiatric hospital.

Half an hour later, two orderlies hauled me out of the house.

I glared at Charles, my voice raw. "Charles Abbott, you'll rot in hell! You killed Lily—I will never let this go!"

But all that awaited me were restraints.

And the sound of Charles and Mia's laughter drifting from the kitchen...

In the early hours of the morning, I woke on a metal cot in the psychiatric ward, the sedatives wearing off.

Almost without thinking, I pulled out my phone and opened the home security feed.

In the bedroom Charles and I once shared, two bodies moved together.

Mia's coy voice floated through the speaker. "Charles... thank you for saving Bryce. If you had to do it all over again, would you still...?"

Charles's breath came heavy. "Not just once—I'd do it ten thousand times. I love you. Of course I love Bryce too..."

The sounds that followed made my stomach turn.

I ground my teeth until they ached, then found a number I hadn't dialed in over a decade.

"Help me. I want to destroy Charles Abbott completely."

A week later, Charles came to collect me from the psychiatric hospital.

He glanced at my hollow, haggard face and tossed a box containing a dress at my feet.

"Mia arranged a thank-you reception for me at the hospital. Clean yourself up. You're coming with me."

"Charles, it's been seven days. Don't you miss Lily at all?"

"Stop wasting my time!"

"Mia said she already sent Lily to her family's village to relax!"

He shot me a look of pure disgust and stepped outside the room.

"Hurry up and change! I don't have time to wait around for you!"

On the drive to the hospital, my phone buzzed.

A message from that number:

Althea, everything is ready.

Charles glanced at me through the rearview mirror. "Who's that?"

I looked up and met his impatient eyes.

"No one. Isn't today your reception? I've prepared a little surprise for you too."

He seemed pleased that I'd finally become docile. His gaze swept over me, and a satisfied smile curved his lips.

"Althea, now this is what the wife of Director Abbott should look like. You've kept your figure well, and you're gracious and presentable. I'm very pleased with you today."

I swallowed the nausea rising in my stomach and stared at Charles's back, repeating silently to myself over and over:

Lily, Mommy will avenge you today.

The moment we stepped through the hospital doors, a swarm of reporters surged toward us.

Charles ascended the stage amid a chorus of cheers.

Mia held up an enormous silk banner and placed it in Charles's hands.

"I want to thank my mentor, Director Abbott, for giving my son a second chance at life. My mentor has always been so boundlessly compassionate..."

Before Mia could finish, waves of praise erupted from the crowd.

"That's right! Director Abbott is a renowned master of transplant surgery. Our city is proud to have such a virtuous man! He makes us all feel safe!"

"Thank you, Director Abbott! Director Abbott is a saint of medicine!"

Amid the thunderous applause, a young male reporter slowly made his way forward. He raised his microphone and spoke in a measured tone.

"Director Abbott, I've heard that your daughter unfortunately suffers from congenital heart disease. With your exceptional medical skills, has your daughter's condition been properly treated?"

A wave of murmurs rippled through the crowd.

"Do you even need to ask? Director Abbott is famous for doting on his wife and daughter!"

"Why would a greenhorn like you worry about his daughter's health? Of course she's being well taken care of!"

"Exactly! For all we know, she might already be fully recovered!"

Charles waved his hand at the audience and fixed the reporter with a polished, diplomatic smile.

"How kind of you to ask. As everyone has said, I've taken excellent care of my daughter. She's currently in the countryside for a retreat—arranged by my student Mia here. Everyone loves her dearly..."

"A retreat?! Lily is dead!"

I clutched Lily's portrait and urn as I pushed through the crowd.

Under the stunned gazes of everyone present, I pressed play on the large screen.

In an instant, footage of Charles performing an unauthorized procedure in the operating room—illegally transplanting a heart to Bryce—appeared before the entire audience.