"Are you sure you want to choose this cemetery for yourself? You have only a month left with your cancer, and your husband is still spending time with his first love. Do your family even know?"

I stared at the headstone where my photo had already been set in stone.

The sight squeezed my chest. I nodded faintly, my heart heavy.

Peter Young, my husband, could easily spend thousands on his old flame, Leila Fields, without hesitation.

But for my cancer treatment? Not a single dollar.

To survive, I had to return to my parents and ask for help, but even they doubted me.

“Stop lying! You look totally fine. Cancer? Please. You’re just trying to scam us for money.”

My daughter went a step further. She used my savings to buy a cake just to make Leila happy.

My family had stopped seeing me a long time ago.

Three days ago, unexpectedly, Peter invited me on a boat trip. Leila also came along.

Then a storm hit. The boat capsized.

Peter held Leila in one arm, our daughter in the other, and climbed onto the rescue boat.

He didn’t even glance back to check on me.

Three days later, I was rescued from the ocean by a cargo ship just before death. I had lost my baby, and my body was broken.

When I finally made it home, barely alive, laughter floated down from the bedroom upstairs. It pierced me like a knife.

“I already spent three whole days with you, and you’re still not satisfied?” Peter’s voice dripped with amusement. “If you hadn’t mentioned her, I would’ve forgotten about her entirely. She was just a fill-in while you weren’t around. If I can’t find her again, I’ll just go public with us and the baby you’re carrying.”

“Yey!” my daughter squealed. “I can finally call Leila ‘Mom’!”

My hand froze in mid-air, just inches from the doorknob. My body began to tremble. I instinctively reached for my belly, which was now flat and hollow.

A sharp, crushing pain exploded in my chest. I staggered toward the first-aid box for my meds, only to find it filled with Leila’s favorite snacks that Peter had packed for her.

Holding back tears, I quickly ran out the door.

I didn’t make it far.

Someone collided with me. I fell hard, and just before I blacked out, a bitter thought echoed in my mind:

'I never got my revenge.'

As darkness fell, I thought I saw Peter’s face. Blood gathered around him. He sank to his knees, shouting my name.

"Selene!"

...

But it wasn’t Peter.

When I realized it was Ryan, his younger brother, disappointment crept in like a shadow. My eyes fluttered shut.

Ryan was completely different from Peter. He disliked how fake Leila was and never tried to hide it. He had just returned from studying abroad, never expecting our paths to cross like this.

Moments later, I was in the back of an ambulance.

At the hospital, the doctor gave Ryan a grim look. "You'd better call the family. She might not make it.”

Panic set in.

Immediately, Ryan grabbed his phone and called Peter.

“Peter, Selene’s in the hospital. It’s bad. You need to come now!”

But all Ryan received was a cold laugh from Peter.

“What, she’s crying to you again? I already heard someone fished her out of the water. Tell her to drop the act."

Peter’s words cut through me like an ice pick. Then, there was a brief silence.

His voice turned soft as he coaxed someone. “Leila, don’t be jealous. It was just Ryan calling. I’d never bother contacting her myself. Don’t be mad. You have to be careful now for the baby’s sake.”

Wet, smacking kisses and the sound of heavy breathing echoed through the line.

I didn’t need to imagine it. I knew exactly what they were doing.

Ryan’s face instantly paled as he slammed the phone shut.

“A baby? You’ve got to be kidding me…” he muttered, his eyes wide with disbelief.

I managed a weak smile. I was too numb to feel anything anymore.

“Ryan... don’t bother. It’s no use.”

The words escaped my lips as if they were made of stone.

Ryan shook his head violently.

"No, Selene. If it weren’t for you back then and your help to ensure I could study abroad, I wouldn’t have had that opportunity. You can’t give up! I promise I’ll find another doctor."

I blinked, stunned. His words triggered a blurry memory.

In the past, Leila's failed startup drained all of Peter's finances, leaving Ryan unable to pay for his tuition. And so, I was the one who gave him money for school.

What did that get me? Peter accuses me of hoarding cash instead of helping Leila.

To him, none of us mattered as much as her. Everything went to Leila.

Suddenly, my phone rang.

On the other end, Peter roared, “Selene! Why the hell are the cops here? It’s one thing for you to report me, but why accuse Leila of attempted murder? Get your ass back here and clear this up!"

His fury felt like someone hammering nails into my chest.

Leila had deliberately thrown out my medication, fully aware of the consequences. I suffered an attack and nearly died without it.

Peter didn’t ask what happened. Instead, he blamed me for not storing it properly.

But I had hidden it carefully in the corner of my wardrobe. I knew exactly where I had left it.

The pain crashed over me like a wave. The heart monitor spiked, its beeping sharp and frantic. The room blurred, spinning out of control.

Just before I blacked out, I heard alarms blaring in the distance and Ryan's frantic voice.

Gripping the phone in his hand, he shouted, “Go back? Peter, Selene’s dying, and all you care about is that woman? Are you fucking serious?!”

Peter was stunned.

“Seriously, Ryan?" he shot back. "You're actually taking her side now and feeding me crap? Fine. I’ll go to the hospital myself. She’d better actually be dead!”

The line went dead, and with that, Peter stormed off toward the hospital.

But just as he neared my room, Leila clutched her stomach and cried out dramatically,

“Peter, my stomach… it really hurts, all of a sudden…”

Peter’s face shifted. He turned pale. Without a moment's pause, he scooped her into his arms and rushed her straight to the VIP suite.

“Get every available doctor here! Bring in all the medical equipment!” he ordered, frantic. “I don’t want a single thing to go wrong with Leila or the baby!”

Right then, the entire hospital went dark, and the power failed.

...

The ventilator that was sustaining me stopped working, and my oxygen supply was cut off.

“What the hell?!” Ryan jumped up from his seat, his eyes wide.

Someone, probably a nurse, rushed into the room.

Her voice was breathless as she said, “Sir, the hospital’s power grid is overloaded. We’ve had a temporary outage. All emergency power and oxygen have been rerouted to Mr. Young’s VIP suite…”

Ryan’s face fell, and then he replied, "What? This is a top-tier hospital, fully equipped with backup tanks and contingency plans. How could everything be funneled to one room?"

Without thinking, he rushed directly to the VIP suite.

The moment he threw open the door, his stomach tightened at the sight.

Everyone in the room focused on one person.

And there, Ryan realized that the person hoarding all the medical supplies was his brother.

“Peter! Do you even realize Selene is in this hospital, too? Her room just lost oxygen! And you—”

But Peter didn’t even look up.

“It’s just a temporary pause for the other patients,” he said flatly. “She’s not gonna die in a few minutes. Besides, when hasn’t she faked being sick for attention? She always turns out fine.”

That was the last thing I heard before the pain swelled so violently that my ears rang.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move.

But I felt everything.

Ryan’s voice rises again, this time filled with panic. “She’s not faking it! Without oxygen, she’ll die!”

Peter frowned. He knew Ryan had always been calm and measured. This was the first time he’d ever seen him fall apart.

But before he could reply, Leila groaned from the bed, clutching her chest.

“Peter… I can’t breathe. It hurts…”

Instantly, Peter’s attention swung back to her. He jumped to her side, panic rising all over again. An aide stepped forward with a printed document.

Peter shoved it into Ryan’s hands and said, “Take this to Selene. Tell her to stop with the theatrics and sign this release form. Then get her over here to apologize to Leila.”

Ryan let out a sharp breath, half laugh, half disbelief.

Leila, glowing with health and pretending to be breathless, had Peter completely fooled. Meanwhile, Selene was truly hanging on by a thread, and even a breath of oxygen had become a luxury.

Ryan couldn’t watch this anymore. He grabbed one of the backup oxygen tanks from the corner and bolted out the door, running full speed toward my ward.

“Selene! I’ve got oxygen. Hang on! Please just hang on!”

I wanted to respond, to look at him and tell him I was still here, but I couldn’t even lift a finger.

My chest barely moved. The machine had gone still.

Ryan kept calling for help, but no one came because all the doctors had been pulled to Leila's room.

Feeling helpless, he sank to his knees beside me, gripping my hand. Tears poured down his face as he wept, and I desperately wanted to comfort him.

I tried to speak.

I really tried, but no sound came out.

When the nurse quietly explained that all the hospital's critical care equipment had been reserved for Mr. Peter Young's VIP ward, I understood everything.

Peter had never really believed I was sick. Not once.

Every time I brought him test results, Leila would destroy them before he could see them. Maybe he didn’t know, or perhaps he didn’t want to find out. Either way, my body had finally given out. And maybe that was the only peace I’d ever get.

With great effort, I lifted my heavy eyelids and looked at Ryan one last time.

I held on to that.

To him...

To every painful memory...

And then, I took my last breath.

...

Back in the warm, brightly lit VIP suite, Peter paced anxiously until the doctors finally returned with their evaluation.

“Mr. Young,” one of them said, “both Ms. Fields and the baby are in perfect health. There's nothing to worry about.”

Peter exhaled deeply, relief washing over his face.

“Thank God, Leila. You’re okay.”

Only then did Ryan’s earlier breakdown seem to resurface in his mind.

He turned to his assistant, lowered his voice, and said, “Follow Ryan. Find out what Selene is doing. And try to talk her into dropping the charges against Leila.”

Ryan dropped to his knees beside my lifeless body, his hands trembling as he tried to hold back his sobs.

Just then, familiar voices echoed through the hallway.

“Where’s our daughter?! Where is she?!”

My parents had finally arrived, frantic and out of breath.

Ryan stepped out of the room to meet them.

His voice cracked as he spoke, “Selene… she’s gone.”

For a brief moment, my parents froze. Then, their expressions shifted. Their tense brows relaxed.

“Didn’t Chiara say it was Leila who was sick?” my dad asked, his tone flat and cold. “Why would it be Selene?”

My mom waved her hand dismissively, clearly annoyed.

“Didn’t she claim she had late-stage cancer last month and only a month left to live? Yet she still had the energy to wait tables. You tell me, does that sound like someone who's dying? We never withheld money from her. She still had that million we gave her. Always pretending to be sick to gain sympathy.”

They forgot.

When they handed me the bank card, Leila was crying to them about not being able to buy a new dress. As a result, they took it away from me and gave it to her.

My daughter, Chiara, stood next to them, nodding along eagerly. “Mom always lies like that. Last time I saw her, she had money to shop.”

That shopping trip? I was buying her a birthday present. It cost me more than a month's salary.

Just then, another voice entered the scene.

“Dad! Mom!”

Peter walked toward them, his arm around Leila.

The moment my parents saw that Leila was okay, their expressions brightened. They hurried over.

Chiara rushed straight into Leila’s arms. “Mom, are you alright?”

Ryan just stood there, stunned.

Now he finally understood what I meant when I told him not to bother with them, that they were all useless.

My parents.

My daughter.

My husband.

They had all gathered around Leila without hesitation.

And not one of them cared that I was gone.

Even after death, my consciousness remained. My soul lingered, floating beside Ryan.

I had always known my family didn’t care, but watching it unfold in real time still carved deeply into what was left of my heart.

Leila was adopted by my family when we were young. She was an orphan, and my parents always felt more sorry for her than for me.

Once, she broke my mother’s favorite vase, and I was the one who took the blame.

“Leila’s had a hard life. She’s an orphan,” my mom said. “And now you’re trying to frame her? Go outside and kneel. Apologize.”

That night, I knelt in the snow until sunrise.

Peter, who lived next door at the time, had found me there. He wrapped me in a warm coat and helped me inside. But afterward, Leila began clinging to him as well and doing everything she could to steal his attention.

Back in the present, Peter turned to Ryan, irritation in his voice. “Did Selene sign the statement of forgiveness like I asked?”

Ryan let out a bitter laugh, his voice raw, as he gestured towards the gurney being wheeled down the hall, the body covered in white.

“Sign it?”

His voice rose, continuing, “Look! That’s Selene! She’s dead! And you’re still thinking about making her forgive Leila?!”

Ryan’s hands clenched tightly, and his whole body trembled with the effort not to strike his brother. Meanwhile, Peter paused mid-step, a slight frown forming.

He glanced at the body on the stretcher, wrapped tightly in white.

Then Peter scoffed. “She’s really going all out with this performance, huh? Selene’s terrified of dying, like she’d actually go that far.”

Yeah. I was still young. Why would I want to die?

If I could’ve lived, I would’ve dragged every one of them to hell with me.

“She’s just jealous again because I’ve been spending time with Leila,” Peter muttered. “Get her up and tell her to sign the damn agreement already.”

Impatient, Peter kicked the bed and reached out to yank back the sheet. At that moment, a ring slipped from my hand and hit the floor with a sharp clink.

The sharp sound caught his attention.

It was the ring he gave me when he proposed, and I never took it off. He said he forged it himself, so I always cherished it.

But on the day Leila returned home, Peter had taken off our wedding ring.

For the first time in a long while, he hesitated. His hand moved instinctively to lift the sheet, but doubt crept into his voice.

“Selene? What kind of game are you playing this time?”

“Peter!” Leila’s voice cut in. “You said you wanted to know what she’s been up to. My people found something!”

Leila then pulled out her phone and played a video. The footage was shaky and clearly edited. On screen, a woman—slightly blurry but somewhat resembling me—sat at a restaurant, laughing and talking with someone.

“See?” Leila smiled. “Selene is not even in the hospital. She’s out on a date.”

The lie was blatant. Amateur even.

But it erased any final doubt in Peter’s mind.

“Great! She lied to me again?” he growled. “Selene’s off with some guy now?”

Enraged, he charged forward and shoved the gurney.

Ryan shouted, “No!”

His eyes nearly popped open as he hurried to stop him, but he was too late. The heavy gurney hit the ground with a thud, and my body hit the ground with a sickening thud, though the sheet stayed in place.

Ryan lost all patience. Like a man possessed, he lunged at Peter and punched him hard in the face.

“You bastard! You monster!”

Peter staggered backward, blood trailing from the corner of his mouth.

He wiped it with his sleeve, his expression unreadable.

“What death? That’s a fake body,” Peter said coldly. “So all of this was just a cover for her to run off with another guy?”