The day Mina Long was released from prison, she didn't walk out. She was carried out on a stretcher. She was so emaciated she barely looked like herself. Her right hand dangled limp. Her legs were mottled with bruises. Three months earlier, false testimony had sent her to prison for a hit-and-run she hadn't committed—the real culprit was Malani, the true Castillo heiress.

In jail, the tendons in her hand—once skilled with a scalpel—were cruelly severed. Her legs, which had danced on international stages, were left crippled by brutal beatings. When hope was almost gone, her husband, Hunter Perry, pulled every string to get her out.

Outside the prison, Hunter froze when he saw the stretcher. Then he rushed from the car and gathered her into his arms. "Mina, I'm sorry. I came too late," he said, his voice trembling as he climbed into the ambulance with her. The usually composed, dignified man shed a tear. Mina had seen him cry only twice before: on their wedding day, and the day their son, Vincenzo, was born.

When that tear touched Mina's face, something inside her erupted. She hadn't cried during the beatings. She hadn't cried when they ruined her hand. But now, she couldn't hold it back. She melted into Hunter's embrace, breathing in the scent that had always comforted her. Despite everything, she still had her husband and son—the family who loved her.

Hunter's eyes were red. "Mina," he vowed, his voice passionate and raw, "I'll find the real culprit who framed you. I'll clear your name!" Nestled against his chest, Mina felt a little of her anguish soften. It didn't matter that the Castillo family had always preferred Malani, or that her former fiancé had abandoned her. She had a husband and son who loved her deeply.

"This is my fault," Hunter said, his voice strained, unable to meet her gaze. "If I hadn't asked you to drive that day, they wouldn't have had the chance to accuse you of a hit-and-run." Mina shook her head. How could she blame him? Hunter was known as the perfect husband. After their wedding, he'd indulged her, turned her into his princess, even encouraged her to quit her job so he could take care of her. As heir to the Perry fortune, he was utterly devoted to her. Everyone envied her good fortune.

But now? Was she even worthy of him? "I may never hold a scalpel again," Mina said through her tears. "I may never dance again…" Hunter's voice trembled as he tried to console her. "Mina, if you can't hold a scalpel, I'll take care of you forever. If you can't dance—maybe that's better. I'd be jealous seeing other people watch you."

Mina forced a bittersweet smile. He'd always admired her legs. Now they were scarred. Would he eventually tire of them? At the hospital, Mina saw her son. Vincenzo was at her bedside, crying uncontrollably. "Mom, I'm sorry. I didn't know my words would be used against you! It's my fault for remembering wrong. I'd give you my legs if I could!"

Mina remembered. Three months earlier, she'd been falsely accused of a hit-and-run. Vincenzo had been a witness—he'd said she went out that day. Vincenzo was usually calm, mature beyond his years. Now he cried like a lost child. No matter how grown-up he acted, he was still just a kid—kids made mistakes.

Her heart ached as she stroked his head. "Mommy doesn't blame you." "Mom, I'll be your legs," Vincenzo sobbed. "I'll explore the world for you." A bittersweet pang hit Mina. She was lucky. Her son and husband hadn't abandoned her. They even seemed to care more.

Her birth family had never made her happy, but she had chosen a loving home. After surgery, she still couldn't feel her limbs. Her throat was dry when she tried to speak. Then she heard Vincenzo's voice outside.

"Dad, Mom seems so pitiful now. She might be able to stand, but she'll never dance again. The doctors say she won't hold a scalpel either," Vincenzo reported. Tears filled Mina's eyes. Her heart sank into despair. She had expected this—but hearing it confirmed was a blow she wasn't ready for.

"Dad, did we go too far—framing Mom to cover for Malani's mistake?" Vincenzo asked hesitantly. Framing? Cover-up? Mina froze. She must have misheard. Then Hunter's cold voice came from the other side of the door. "Malani is a talented dancer. Her reputation can't be tarnished by scandal," he said flatly. "As for your mom, she pretended to be the Castillo heiress for years and made Malani an orphan. This is the debt she owes. Besides, she's the wife of the Perry heir now—what more could she ask for?"

So the ones who had framed her—the ones who'd sent her to prison—were her husband and son? Lying in the hospital bed, Mina bit her lip to keep from crying out. She hadn't chosen to be switched at birth. How could she be blamed for usurping Malani's rightful place all these years? Had Hunter's declarations of love been lies?

Vincenzo sighed in agreement. "Mom's always been against Malani. Maybe this will teach her! We'll make it up to her later," he added. Later? Would there even be a later? Every word reached Mina with agonizing clarity. The betrayal overshadowed even the physical pain of her injuries. The people she loved most had orchestrated this horror—all for Malani's sake.

Outside, Vincenzo's voice softened with concern. "But delaying the surgery made her injuries irreparable. What if Mom finds out and goes mad?" If the surgery had been timely, she might have been saved? Yet they had chosen to delay it. Mina's heart felt torn apart. She could barely breathe.

Hunter's voice turned impatient. "And what if she does find out? She can't return to the Castillo family. She needs the Perry family." His voice took on a pleased tone, as if he was delighted with himself. "Vincenzo, don't you like spending time with Malani? Now your mom can't stop you from seeing her anymore. Isn't that great?"

Vincenzo's voice was youthful and cruel. "Of course I'm happy! Mom's always been such a killjoy. Maybe people without an education are like that—always competing with other women for no reason. When I talk to Malani, Mom even yells at me!" Tears streamed down Mina's face. It felt like her heart was bleeding.

Vincenzo had once told her he didn't like Malani. That was why she'd refused Malani's invitations on his behalf. How was everything her fault now?

Hunter Perry exhaled slowly, relief finally loosening his shoulders. “Besides, now that your mom can’t dance anymore, Malani has no rivals. Becoming the lead dancer is Malani’s dream. You can’t imagine the lengths I’ve gone to just to make her happy.”

Sacrificed everything? Mina Long stood frozen in her hospital room, catching every word as a sharp pain spread through her chest.

Eight years ago, Malani Castillo walked into her life—and that was when Mina found out she wasn’t the Castillos’ biological daughter. Her fiancé humiliated her in public, broke off their engagement, and announced she was being run out of the city, only to marry Malani right after. Overnight, she became a laughingstock among her peers.

Friends and family believed she’d stolen Malani’s rightful place, that she’d taken everything she never even realized wasn’t hers to begin with. Only Hunter Perry came looking for her when she was lost and broken. “Mina, marry me,” he’d said. “I’ll take care of you. Always.”

Back then, Mina had been moved beyond words. She married him, convinced he was her soulmate. For love—for their marriage—she even turned down an offer from a prestigious international dance academy. Later, she found out Malani had grabbed that chance, becoming the academy’s prized student and eventually the top dancer in the country.

She hadn’t thought much of it until now. Now it hit her: Hunter had been orchestrating everything to ensure Malani’s success. No wonder there’d always been a wall between her and Hunter. It had all been a meticulously planned scheme to fulfill Malani’s dreams.

Mina laughed quietly to herself, tears streaming down her face. How could she have been so blind? For eight years, she’d been played by the very person she trusted.

All those years, she’d abandoned her dreams for them. When their son got sick, she gave up dancing to become a doctor. When she couldn’t reach Hunter emotionally, she tried everything to win him over. And when she fell short, she always blamed herself.

Her tears soaked the pillow. She lay there, trying to lift a hand to wipe them away, only to find it limp and unresponsive. Her right hand was useless now—severed tendons had robbed it of its function in prison. She would never hold a scalpel again, the tool she’d worked so hard to master, becoming an accomplished surgeon.

The silence shattered with a sudden crash as a glass hit the floor. The conversations outside cut off. Hunter rushed in, panic flickering in his eyes. He gathered Mina into his arms, his voice thick with concern. “Mina, you’re awake? The surgery was a success. Are you feeling any discomfort?”

Hunter’s brows were drawn tight, worry carved into his handsome face. If Mina hadn’t overheard his conversation, she might have been touched by how much he seemed to care.

Their son, Vincenzo, came to her side too, tearfully offering, “Mom, do you need anything to drink? I’ll get you some water!”

In the past, Mina would’ve been happy. Her husband cherished her, and her son, wise beyond his years, was always thoughtful. But now, all she saw in their actions was cruelty and deceit.

Suppressed emotions threatened to spill over as her body ached. Mina forced a strained smile, holding back her tears. Seeing this, Hunter’s voice trembled slightly as he lowered his gaze. “Mina, are you in pain? Should I call the doctor again? Don’t worry—I’ll find the ones who falsely testified. I won’t let you suffer.”

A tear slipped from the corner of Mina’s eye. Her body shivered with cold realization. They were skilled performers, and she had been their unwitting audience for years—only discovering their betrayal after it had already consumed her.

With unusual calm, Mina asked, “Has it really been three months, and there are still no leads on the people who lied in court? Is there any hope for my hand and legs?” What she truly wondered was whether they had any pity left for her.

Her voice rang clearly in the room, making Hunter look momentarily lost in thought before he responded. “Mina, I’ll do everything to avenge you. I’ll fix your hand.”

Vincenzo leaned against her bed, holding her hand gently. “Mom, don’t be upset. The medical technology here isn’t the best, but Dad brought top experts from abroad!”

Was it the technology—or was it the deliberate delay—that caused this? Mina suddenly felt very tired. She had fought for three months in prison just to come back and see them.

Now, the two people she valued most in the world had given her such a “surprise.”

“Let it be,” Mina whispered, focusing intently on Hunter. “I just want to find the real culprit behind the hit-and-run, the one who gave false testimony, and clear my name.”

Hunter showed a brief hesitation before saying, “Mina, you never used to be so calculating.” His brow furrowed slightly, his voice cool. “I’ll do my best to help you seek justice, but I don’t want you consumed by revenge. Can’t we just focus on living well?”

Bitterness filled Mina’s heart, an unrelenting pain numbing her insides. They had destroyed her life—how could she simply live well?

“Mom, even if your hand can’t be healed, Dad and I won’t see you as less than whole. Let go of the hatred!” Vincenzo’s voice was innocent yet painfully unaware.

Mina couldn’t bear such condescending sympathy. She wanted to say more, but Hunter’s phone rang, and the icy demeanor he always displayed softened at once.

Mina watched him closely, feeling an odd sense of loss. In all these years, Hunter had been good to her, yet always with cold detachment. She once thought him incapable of smiling, but it turned out he simply didn’t smile for her.

After ending the call, Hunter looked apologetic, his brow furrowing. “Mina, something’s come up at Vincenzo’s school. I need to take him there.”

Mina lowered her head. He seemed to forget her sharp hearing. She’d caught the lively laughter of a woman on the other end of the line: “Hunter, my show just finished. Come pick me up, and I’ll treat you to dinner!”

The voice was unmistakable. It belonged to Malani Castillo, the true Castillo heiress—charismatic and outgoing, beloved by her family and social circle.

A coldness crept into Mina’s heart. She suddenly felt exhausted. Looking at Hunter, she said calmly, “But today is Saturday.”

Hunter frowned and gave Vincenzo a look. He caught on quickly and added, “Our school’s having a cultural event, Mom! I’ll practice hard so when you’re better, you can come and watch.”

The lie was weak, and Hunter’s impatience was glaringly obvious. Was it because she was now rendered useless, unable to reclaim her life, that they didn’t bother to pretend anymore?

A faint smile formed on Mina’s face. “Go ahead.”

Hunter’s features relaxed as he poured her a cup of coffee. “You love coffee. Drink it and wait for me, okay?”

With that, he left swiftly with Vincenzo, as if eager to be gone. Mina looked at the cup of coffee and smiled bitterly.

She was sensitive to caffeine.

It was never her who liked coffee.

In his haste to leave, Hunter Perry accidentally dropped his wallet on the floor. Almost on instinct, Mina Long picked it up. She remembered how, when they first married, Hunter had carried an old, beat-up wallet. She'd pinched pennies and saved up to buy him a new one as a gift. His reaction had been cool, but something in him seemed touched. "This is Mrs. Perry's first gift," he'd said. "I'll carry it with me always."

But the wallet on the floor wasn't the one she'd given him. Clearly, he was still using the old one. Curiosity got the best of her. Mina opened it—and found a photograph.

It was a picture of Malani Castillo and Hunter Perry. They looked younger, like it had been taken years ago. Malani wore a Victorian-style gown, her arms wrapped around Hunter, grinning at the camera like she didn't have a care in the world. Hunter wore a gentle smile, warmth radiating off him.

On closer inspection, Mina realized the photo had been altered. Hunter had cut out Malani's wedding photo and pasted it beside himself. Exhaustion crashed over Mina, as if Hunter's smile were mocking her. After all these years of marriage, he'd never once hung their wedding portrait in their bedroom. Love lives in the heart—that was what he always said.

Now she understood. She wasn't worthy to stand beside him in wedding white. Malani was the bride he truly wanted.

In the bottom right corner of the photo, in Hunter's elegant handwriting, were the words "My Love," followed by a date. Their wedding date—the same day Malani had left the country.

As the memories tangled together, Mina lay on the bed and laughed without a sound. Everyone envied her for marrying the perfect husband, for living some fairy tale. But who would've guessed that, in Hunter Perry's heart, it was her sister Malani he treasured above all?

As the sun sank below the horizon, neither Hunter nor Vincenzo showed up all day. Weariness settled over Mina's heart—the meaningless marriage she'd endured for years had finally run its course.

Watching the sunset, she called her older sister and said, "I've made up my mind. I'm ready to go back to my roots." A year ago, a phone call had revealed she wasn't an orphan after all. After a beat, she added, "But give me three months."

Three months later would be Thanksgiving. Her grandmother had been the only one in the Castillo family who'd ever been kind to her, and Mina wanted to say a proper goodbye before leaving the city. Three months would be enough time to get her health back and divorce Hunter Perry.

Across the ocean, at the Gibson Estate—home to the world's wealthiest family—Naomi Gibson hung up the phone, disbelief written all over her face. Turning to the other three in the room, she exclaimed joyfully, "Our little sister has agreed to come home!"

Once her health improved, Mina was discharged from the hospital. When Hunter saw her on crutches, his eyes filled with tears. He helped her into their home, eased her onto the couch, and wrapped his arms around her. "It's all behind us now, Mina. From here on out, we're a happy family."

Happy? They'd deceived her this deeply and still expected her to find joy? Vincenzo came darting over like a little bird, exclaiming, "Mom! Welcome home!"

In his excitement, he accidentally pressed on her injured hand. Mina inhaled sharply. Vincenzo jumped back, showing barely any real remorse, and asked, "Sorry, Mom, are you alright?" Expressionless, she shook her head. She didn't want to confront them, and she didn't have the energy to engage.

As father and son watched TV in the living room, Mina retreated to her room. She wanted to take—or destroy—anything that belonged to her. But the house was practically empty of her possessions.

Mina smirked knowingly. The outcome didn't surprise her. Her presence in the household was negligible, just like her significance in Hunter and Vincenzo's lives—disposable.

But one item was missing: the necklace she'd entrusted to Hunter before going to prison. It was her grandmother's only keepsake. The necklace was the one thing in the house worth taking with her, yet it was nowhere to be found.

"Mom, Malani is here to see you!" Vincenzo's voice from outside interrupted her thoughts. Mina walked into the living room and found Malani holding a gift, smiling as she sat comfortably on the couch. Cheerful chatter filled the room. But the moment Malani saw Mina, she went quiet, and a sudden awkwardness fell over the scene.

Noting Mina's silence, Malani quickly distanced herself from Hunter, trying to downplay things. "Mina, don't get the wrong idea. Hunter and I are just good friends. You have no reason to be jealous." Hunter's expression turned cold and impatient. "Malani stopped by specifically to see you after hearing you were discharged."

Ignoring them both, Mina sat in a chair farther away, unwilling to argue, choosing instead to act as if she didn't notice them. "Mina, this is a gift for you," Malani said, approaching with a box in hand. "I remember you used to love this..."

Opening the box, Mina found an evening gown inside—one she had indeed once adored. Her eyes narrowed. Her legs would never dance again in this lifetime.

"Miss Castillo, I won't be needing this," she replied, her tone flat. "Oh," Malani exclaimed, covering her mouth a beat too late as she glanced at Mina's legs. "Sorry, I forgot. Sorry, Mina. I'm as oblivious as any guy—no delicate thoughts like you ladies have. You're not angry, right?"

Mina offered a cold smile and finally lifted her gaze to meet Malani's. All she found was malice in Malani's eyes. The irony was overwhelming. In a calm voice, Mina said, "No worries. I stopped dancing a long time ago. Keep your gift; I won't need it."

Gifts she didn't need. A husband and son she didn't want anymore.

Malani chuckled softly and placed the gift down. That was when Mina noticed the necklace hanging around Malani's neck, swaying with her movements. Mina's eyes widened, her fingers curling instinctively. This was her grandmother's necklace!