He glanced at it.

I caught the contact name before the screen dimmed, “My Darling.”

A sharp silence fell between us.

Sheldon stood at once, smoothing his face into practiced calm.

“Urgent meeting,” he said evenly. “I’ll bring back your favorite pastries.”

He ruffled Lizzie’s hair. “Be a strong girl. Protect Mommy.”

“I want to go with Daddy!” Lizzie whined, reaching for him.

Sheldon hesitated, torn for a brief second. “Maybe I should bring her…”

“Go,” I cut in, my voice calm, almost gentle. “Take her. It’ll be easier for me.”

He blinked, surprised, but didn’t argue. He lifted Lizzie into his arms and left.

He didn’t return until nightfall. No pastries. No gifts.

Only voice call—from Stacey. [I’ve submitted everything to the court and will ask them out tomorrow night. You’ll do as promised, right?]

A photo followed, the four of them at dinner, smiling beside a pregnancy test.

Then a video. Lizzie laughed brightly at the camera. “Diego and I will have other siblings, I love my second mommy the most!”

The clip ended.

My hands didn’t shake.

I felt nothing.

The next day, I packed my things and took a taxi to Sheldon’s parents’ home.

I remembered the first time I met them—how anxious they were, how tightly Sheldon’s mother clutched her husband’s hand.

Sheldon’s condition had terrified them. His depression, his fear of people, and his trembling before every meeting.

Back then, his father had sighed heavily.

“If this continues,” he said bitterly, “I’ll have no choice but to hand the company to my nephew.”

He was helpless.

But under my treatment, Sheldon slowly recovered. His parents looked at me as if I were a miracle.

His mother had gripped my hands, eyes reddened. “Thank you.”

His father said hoarsely. “You didn’t just heal my son. You saved my family.”

From then on, they treated me like their own daughter.

They often joked about Sheldon and me.

“She listens, he calms down,” his father laughed once. “Perfect compatibility.”

His mother nodded eagerly. “If you don’t marry her, you’ll never find anyone better.”

When they found out Sheldon proposed to me, they were overjoyed.

His father even drank more than he should have at the celebration, smiling like a relieved man who had finally escaped his worst fear.

Sadly, he died two years ago in a plane crash while on a business trip.

But at least I owe her mother a farewell.

However, when I arrived, my steps faltered. Sheldon’s car was parked outside.

Through the window, I saw Stacey in the living room.

Laughter spilled out—excited, intimate, unmistakably warm.

I stood there, listening.

And understood, I was already the only one missing from their family.

“Mommy, relax,” a woman’s voice chimed brightly. “I’ll give the Carter bloodline many kids within three years. I won’t let this lineage end with me.”

His mother laughed, delighted. “Good girl. That’s all these old people will for. I long to see this house lively again.”

Then her tone softened with pity.

“As for Reba, she’s kind-hearted, but damaging her core while birthing Lizzie was such a tragedy. Thankfully, we still have you. If you carry this child to term, you’ll be the Carter family’s savior.”

The gift bag in my hands suddenly burned.

Inside were the farewell presents I had chosen with care.

Now, all of it felt pointless.

Quietly, I handed the gifts to the housekeeper nearby, swallowing the ache rising in my throat.

I still remembered the night after my wedding ceremony, Sheldon’s mother had clasped my hands tightly. “If Sheldon ever strays, come to me. I’ll tear his ears off myself.”

“No matter what happens, you’ll always be the daughter in law I acknowledge.”

Yet today, I heard her welcoming another woman with genuine warmth.

Sheldon was their blood. I was, at best, a girl who came into their family, an outsider.

I left, took a taxi, and headed straight for the airport.

As the plane prepared for take-off, my phone chimed.

A message from Sheldon. [Don’t forget tonight’s agenda. We’ll celebrate your birthday and our anniversary.]

A link followed. The venue and the time.

Sheldon’s secretary once told me the product would be launched tonight and the brand ambassador was Stacey.

I remembered the first time I saw something strange with Sheldon on our fourth anniversary.

“What happened to your neck?” I asked casually, pointing at the crimson marks along his skin. “Looks like something bit you.”

He stiffened.

The marks still carried the red of a recent heat—clearly left by another woman’s lips.

Sheldon cleared his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Probably night-sting insects,” he said weakly. “You don’t think I’d stray, do you? You know you’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.”

“Is that so?” I replied.

It was a deep winter. Even insects were buried beneath frozen snow.

I didn’t wait for his excuses. I brushed past him and entered the washroom.

He stood there, frozen, his face drained of color.

Moments later, perhaps driven by guilt, he followed me and wrapped his arms around my waist from behind.

The mirror reflected us clearly—my distance, his conflict.

He sighed softly. “Can you believe it? Four years of marriage. It feels like a blink. And there are so many seasons ahead of us.”

In my mind, a quiet answer surfaced. ‘Too bad there won’t be another year for us.’

Almost at once, Stacey’s phone call came through. “Hello, Reba. Are you leaving already?”

I steadied my breathing before answering, “Don’t worry, you will get what you want.”

She smiled. “Good, since tonight will be remarkable for us.”

After hanging up the call, I called the organization handling my staged death.

“Sheldon will go to the event tonight with Stacey,” I said calmly. “Prepare the stage near her apartment.”

I paused, voice steady as ice. “Make it convincing.”

The call ended.

I removed the SIM card, snapped it in half, and discarded it.

As airplane mode on, I whispered to myself, “From today on, there will be no Reba Barrett anymore.”

“It’s already evening. We should go,” Sheldon stood up first.

If his secretary hadn’t reminded him of his schedule, he might have forgotten what day it was entirely.

Stacey glanced at him from the corner of her eye, calculating, pleased. She was thinking about how to keep him focus on her tonight—just as she had promised yesterday in the hospital.

Sheldon’s mother smiled warmly. “I hope Lizzie and Diego can visit Grandma again soon. I love having a house full of children.”

“Sure, Mom,” Stacey replied sweetly. “I’ll bring them over sometimes.”

Sheldon’s mother reached for Stacey’s hand, her voice gentle. “I’m so happy to have you and Diego in our family. Take good care of yourself during the pregnancy. Ask me anything if you need advice.”

“I will, Mom,” Stacey answered softly.

On the way back to Stacey’s apartment, Lizzie and Diego fell asleep from exhaustion, heads tilted toward each other.

The car grew quiet.

That was when Stacey spoke.

“Honey,” she said lightly, eyes fixed on the road ahead, “you’ll do to me what you did to Reba someday too, right?”

Sheldon chuckled. His hand slid onto her thigh—deliberately exposed, deliberately inviting.

“Are you jealous?” he asked lazily. “After everything I’ve done for you?”

Stacey pouted. “She has her name on your brand. But me?” She sighed. “I’m just your brand ambassador. Nothing more.”

He squeezed her thigh. “Then how about this,” he said casually. “For your next birthday, I’ll buy you a building. Name it after you.”

She turned to him, eyes lighting up. “You promise?”

He nodded.

“Then seal it,” Stacey said, leaning closer.

Sheldon kissed her without hesitation.

They finally reached the apartment lobby.

Sheldon loosened her seatbelt. “Come upstairs and prepare for tonight’s event. I should go home and—”

Stacey already knew what he was about to say.

She pressed a hand to her forehead and swayed slightly. “Honey… I feel dizzy.” Her voice softened. “These pregnancy hormones—I don’t think I can manage alone tonight.”

She leaned into him, fragile and dependent. “Will you stay with me today?”

Worry flickered across Sheldon’s face. In the end, he gave in.

He sent me a message, brief and careless—telling me to attend the event alone. The driver would pick me up.

Lizzie didn’t come home either. She stayed at Stacey’s apartment, sleeping beside Diego.

Tonight’s event was massive. Reporters swarmed for the launch of Carter Group’s newest product. Every detail had to be flawless—especially Stacey, the brand ambassador.

All preparations were done at Stacey’s apartment.

Stylists came and went. Makeup artists hovered. Dresses, jewelry, shoes—each chosen with Sheldon’s personal approval. He spared no expense, indulging her every preference.

By the time everything was ready, night had already fallen.

They left together.

Sheldon felt a trace of exhaustion, but the driver had been sent for me. So he drove alone.

Stacey’s preparations had taken far longer than planned. She kept asking for breaks, blaming discomfort, blaming hormones. In the end, they departed only minutes before the event was set to begin.

His phone rang again—his secretary, urgency sharp in her voice.

Not wanting to make a poor impression before partners and the public, Sheldon pressed harder on the accelerator.

The car sped through the night.

But trouble followed them into the car.

Lizzie and Diego began fighting over a toy. Their voices rose, sharp and relentless.

Stacey couldn’t stay quiet either. She complained nonstop, pressing a hand to her stomach, muttering about how unbearable the twins were—even before they were born.

The noise filled the car, heavy and chaotic.

It distracted Sheldon as he drove.

For a fleeting moment, he thought of me.

If it were Reba, this wouldn’t have happened.

I always prepared Lizzie carefully for events like this. For a four-year-old, a long night event meant exhaustion and tears. So I made sure she slept during the day.

Before leaving, I fed her her favorite meal and snacks. A full stomach kept her calm, kept her smiling.

I never gave Lizzie overstimulating toys. No loud sounds. No flashing lights.

I chose activity books and educational tablets—things that helped her emotions, her coordination.

That was why Sheldon once wanted many children with me. Because I knew how to care.

But fate was cruel. I could only give him Lizzie—for my entire life.

Then another thought crossed his mind.

‘That’s fine,’ he reassured himself. ‘When Stacey’s child is born, Reba will help take care of them. She loves children. She definitely will.’

Too bad, Sheldon.

By the time that thought formed, I had already left you and Lizzie behind.

His drifting mind was dragged back by the noise. Lizzie and Diego were still arguing. Stacey clutched her head, complaining about the screaming, her voice sharp, impatient.

Instead of calming the children, she joined the tantrum, her tone no calmer than theirs.

Finally, Sheldon snapped.

“Shut up, both of you!” he shouted, turning around to glare at the backseat.

He kept lecturing them, his attention fixed behind him until Stacey screamed, “Sheldon, brake!”

Too late.

The car ahead was too close to them.

Bang!

Stacey sat frozen, shock hollowing her chest as she watched the car they had hit lose control.

It spun wildly, slammed into the road divider, then plunged into the ravine—disappearing into the darkness.

“Shit!” Sheldon roared, his voice exploding inside the car. “Can you all shut up and stop distracting me while I’m driving? Why are you all so annoying?”

His grip tightened on the wheel. “We’re already late. There’s still so much to deal with. So shut up!”

Lizzie and Diego fell silent at once. Fear sealed their lips.

They had never seen their father lose his temper like that. In their world, their parents had always loved them endlessly—enough to give them whatever they wanted.

Lizzie liked going with Sheldon to see Stacey. With him, rules disappeared. She could eat anything, stay up late, and do as she pleased.

I was the one she feared most. With Daddy, she felt she always had the upper hand.

Diego, on the other hand, had never learned fear at all. Stacey spoiled him without restraint. As long as he followed her instructions, everything he wanted was handed to him.

From attending courses before he could even form full sentences, to doing exercises far beyond his age, Diego obeyed—because obedience was rewarded.

Neither child understood right or wrong. They only knew benefits and losses. That was the adults’ failure—teaching them desire, but never consequences.

They didn’t know that people could make mistakes. That sometimes, being wrong was allowed.

So at that moment, when Sheldon shouted, they believed something terrifying.

That their father might no longer love them.

And if love disappeared, so would their privileges.

Their world felt like it was collapsing.

Too afraid to cry aloud, they stayed frozen in their seats, shoulders trembling, tears silently spilling as they clutched their hands together in the dark.

While Stacey’s voice trembled despite herself. “Sheldon… where did that car go?” The words spilled out before she could stop them. “Did it fall into the ravine?”

“Shut up,” Sheldon snapped. “And don’t tell anyone.”

His eyes were cold. “You were involved too. As long as you keep quiet, this won’t come out. Do you understand?”

He slammed his foot down on the accelerator and fled the scene.

It was nearly midnight. He couldn’t afford delays over something so trivial—or so he thought.

After all, it was just an accident. And accidents could be settled with money.

He had always believed that. As long as he had money, everything could be handled easily, that was what he learned since childhood.

Sometimes, family tradition was something too terrifying to understand by some people.

But that was how he was raised.

Still, through the rear window, Stacey caught a glimpse of red—bright, violent—flickering in the distance, as if the car were burning.

Her heart dropped.

This wasn’t just a crash. This was death.

And she was part of it.

Stacey shut her eyes tightly, forcing her breathing to steady.

“As long as I say nothing,” she told herself, “everything will be fine.”

Behind Stacey, Lizzie and Diego could only sob in silence. They didn’t dare cry aloud. Sheldon’s earlier roar still echoed in their ears.

At an intersection, the car stopped at a red light.

Sheldon picked up his phone and called his secretary. “I hit someone by accident,” he said flatly. “Handle it for me. I’ll be at the event soon. Make sure no one finds out.”

Then the light turned green. He drove on.

He never asked who he hit. Never cared what happened next.

Watching from afar, the agent I hired shook his head slowly. Even he hadn’t imagined someone could be this indifferent.

Minutes later, sirens pierced the night.

Police cars arrived. Firefighters. An ambulance.

Another car stopped nearby. A woman stepped out, heels clicking against the road. Sheldon’s secretary.

She had come thinking it was just a minor accident. But when she saw the wreckage—twisted metal, scorched ground, the smell of burning—her steps faltered.

‘What actually happened here?’ she thought.

After the flames were extinguished, the victim was pulled from the car and rushed into the ambulance. The body was covered in severe burns, skin charred, unrecognizable.

Even the secretary frowned.

“Find out who the victim is,” she ordered quietly. “And make sure no one knows about this. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As usual, she sent me a report by text. [Ma'am, something happened to Mr. Carter. He appears to have been involved in a serious accident. I will also let you know once the victim has been identified.]

There was no reply.

Assuming I was busy, she left the scene quickly. Tonight was too important for Carter Group. No one had time to linger.

When Sheldon finally arrived at the event, lights flashing and cameras waiting. Some people wondered why he came, once again, with Stacey and Diego.

The three people who used to attend every event together suddenly disappeared, replaced by four.

The public began to suspect that something they didn't know was going on, but they couldn't find any evidence.

An event staff hurried over. “Mr. Carter, we are glad you finally arrived.”

Sheldon nodded. Then he asked calmly, “Do you know where Reba is? I should meet her first.”

They looked at each other as if confused. After all, they thought I would come together with Sheldon and Lizzie.

But they came with Stacey and Diego instead.

One of them said hesitantly, “Mrs. Carter hasn’t arrived yet, Sir.”

He was shocked and immediately checked his phone.

The message he sent earlier that afternoon was there—delivered. He had even sent the location and thought everything was clear.

A flicker of irritation rose. ‘Is she upset because I didn’t come with her?’

Sheldon called the driver.

“Why isn’t Reba here yet?” he asked coldly. “Did something happen on the road?”

The driver sounded confused. “Sir, Mrs. Carter said she would drive herself to the event.”

“Alone?” Sheldon snapped. “How dare you let her drive alone!”

He was already on edge. Anything that strayed from his expectations only worsened his temper.

He hung up without letting the driver explain and dialed my number.

No answer.

He tried again. And again.

Ten times.

Each call ended the same way, the mechanical voice repeating without emotion, “The number you have dialed is currently unavailable. Please call later.”