The entire venue erupted.

Excited, the host shouted into the microphone, “Looks like Professor Steele’s project has truly captured the spotlight! Not only is the audience in full agreement, but even the Slater Family has stepped in!”

The man in the suit adjusted his glasses and raised a hand to calm the crowd. “Apologies, there’s been a misunderstanding.”

He scanned the room before clarifying, “It’s not Professor Lora’s project. The Slater Family is backing Ms. Loren’s team.”

A hushed silence fell before he dropped the real bombshell.

“Mr. Slater has instructed that as long as it’s Ms. Loren’s research, the Slater Family will fund it—no matter the cost. There is no budget limit.”

The atmosphere changed instantly.

Industry experts, people who had built their careers on rigorous research and data, looked around in confusion. Everyone could sense something wasn’t right—but when capital speaks, who questions science?

The room buzzed again, but this time, all the flattery, all the attention, swirled around Loren.

“Mr. Slater? He’s been out of the industry for seven years! Why return now—and for Loren’s team?”

“Looks like he’s fallen for her, huh?”

“Genius recognizes genius.”

“Loren’s luck is unreal!”

Loren stood in the glow of it all, radiant under the spotlight. She gave me a deliberate smile—sweet, smug, triumphant.

“Mr. Slater really has good taste,” she said with a self-satisfied tilt of her head. “He knows our project has the most market potential.”

She turned to the assistant. “I wonder when we’ll get to meet Mr. Slater in person? Our team would love to thank him.”

The assistant bowed slightly. “Mr. Slater is currently unavailable. When the time is right, he’ll meet you.”

Then, turning to me with mock sympathy, Loren added with a soft sigh, “Oh, sister… I guess your team won’t be getting any investment. That’s such a shame.”

Her voice dipped into false concern. “After all, who in Las Vegas doesn’t know how powerful the Slater Family is? I mean, business is business, but you’re still my sister…”

I turned to Arthur, desperate for even a flicker of explanation.

But his eyes never left her.

They were filled with warmth, with admiration—the tenderness I’d begged for in silence for years. The tenderness he never once gave me.

The rest of the seminar might as well have been a scripted farce. One by one, investors tripped over themselves to praise Loren, like she was the only light in the room.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

Fury boiling in my chest, I slammed the research report down in front of the assistant. “Is the Slater Family trying to crush every other team here?”

The assistant glanced at Arthur. He gave a tiny nod.

The assistant’s face immediately shifted into practiced indifference. “I’m sorry, Ms. Lora. This investment isn’t about research. It’s a personal gift from Mr. Slater to Ms. Loren. His only hope is that she’s happy. The rest is irrelevant.”

My fingers clenched around our project proposal, my knuckles white, my nails digging into the paper.

I stared at Arthur, silently demanding a reaction.

But he didn’t even glance at me.

His world began and ended with Loren.

Well done, Arthur. Very well done.

After the seminar, Loren was surrounded by a sea of reporters and adoring media. She soaked up every word, every camera flash like a celebrity.

I couldn’t bear the sight. I slipped out of the venue, heart pounding, the ache in my chest threatening to drown me.

I just needed work. Something to numb me. As long as I was busy, maybe I wouldn’t have to feel the sting.

But just as I pulled the car door shut, Loren opened the passenger side and slid in.

“Sister,” she chirped, “are you heading back to the institute? I’ve always wanted to see where you work. Can I come along?”

I reached to push her out, but the passenger door was suddenly held firm—by Arthur.

“Drive,” he said flatly.

So I did.

Loren babbled the whole way back, basking in the afterglow of her big moment.

“Arthur, why do you think Mr. Slater picked our team?” she asked with childlike excitement.

Arthur smiled as though she’d asked something precious. “Because he likes you.”

Loren turned bright pink. “Arthur, stop teasing me!”

“I’m not teasing,” he replied softly. “You’re brilliant. Anyone would fall for you.”

Then, as if it suddenly struck her, she turned slightly and asked, “If we had met first, would you have fallen for me instead?”

Arthur looked startled, about to respond.

But Loren smiled sadly and cut him off. “Just kidding. There’s no ‘if.’ What’s missed is missed.”

“You’re only three years older,” he murmured.

“Three years is still older,” she said, her tone suddenly playful. “Call me sister.”

I couldn’t take any more.

“Are you done flirting?” I snapped coldly. “If you want to keep playing house, get out of the car.”

Loren's eyes shimmered with sudden tears. “I’m sorry, sister. I was just... thinking about the past. Got emotional.”

I glanced into the rearview mirror.

Arthur was looking at her with such heartache, like he was watching something fragile and beloved.

And then he looked at me—only contempt in his eyes.

Even though I had prepared myself for this betrayal, the pain still cut deep.

Because no matter how hard I worked, how much I gave up, or how much I loved… in the end, everyone always chose Loren.

The lab lights were cold and harsh, casting a sterile glow across the spotless counters. The air was thick with the sharp scent of disinfectant and chemicals.

I kept my head down, reviewing data while expertly prepping the instrument for the re-inspection.

Behind me, a soft giggle broke the silence.

“Brother Arthur, what’s this? It looks so magical...” Loren’s syrupy voice floated through the room.

From the corner of my eye, I saw her pressing close—her chest nearly brushing Arthur’s arm, her delicate face tilted up with feigned innocence.

Arthur leaned slightly away, putting a hand’s width of space between them. “You can look,” he said with a small cough, “but don’t touch.”

But his ears were flushed red. Even his breathing quickened.

I inserted the final reagent into the centrifuge and said flatly, “This is a lab, not a date spot. Could you two take this somewhere else?”

Loren pouted. “Sister, are you mad again?”

Before I could answer, a sharp alarm pierced the air—Beep!

I turned just in time to see the culture dish wobble precariously. Loren had nudged the workstation, and a line of liquid now oozed out, giving off a foul, acrid stench that spread instantly.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” I asked, jaw clenched.

“I-I just wanted a better look,” she stammered, snatching her hand back and turning to Arthur, eyes glistening. “I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry…”

“Get out!” I snapped, retrieving a fresh pair of gloves and the cleaning kit from the disinfectant cabinet. “This is a laboratory, not your stage performance!”

Arthur finally moved, stepping in to check the control panel and stability readings. He exhaled in relief. “It’s okay. Nothing’s broken. Just—don’t touch anything again. You could’ve gotten hurt.”

I glared at him. “Oh, so now you remember this is a lab?”

He looked guilty. “I didn’t notice—”

“Of course you didn’t,” I cut in coldly, sarcasm curling around every word. “You were far too busy playing knight-in-shining-armor.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he backed up half a step. “Lora, watch your tone—and your identity.”

Identity?

I laughed bitterly. “Give it a few days. Once I’m gone, you won’t need to worry about mine anymore.”

Before he could respond, a sharp scream shattered the air.

“Ahhh!”

It was Loren.

Corrosive waste had erupted from one of the backup pipes. The stench was suffocating, the liquid bubbling on the floor.

“Loren! Get away from there!” Arthur shouted. His expression twisted in panic as he lunged forward, shielding Loren with his entire body.

“Don’t move,” he said hoarsely, clutching her close. “Be careful!”

Loren trembled, eyes wide. She turned and, in her panic, slammed the emergency safety door shut—locking me inside.

I froze.

The searing liquid splashed onto my back, and agony tore through me like wildfire. The burning sensation stole the air from my lungs, and the chemical fumes curled into my nose and throat like invisible claws.

I bit down hard on my lip, trying to stay conscious. But my legs buckled. My vision blurred.

The last thing I saw was Arthur holding Loren in his arms—like she was the most fragile, precious thing in the world.

And me?

Left behind.

---

The pain pulled me back to consciousness like a hook in the chest. Every breath was laced with fire.

I turned my head with effort—and froze.

Loren was curled on the bedside, sobbing into Arthur’s chest.

“You’re my sister’s husband... you treat me so well... I-I shouldn't have...”

Her voice cracked.

“I didn’t mean to close the door. I was scared... I didn’t know what to do…”

Her trembling hands clutched at his sleeves like lifelines.

Arthur brushed her tears away gently, his touch feather-light. “It’s not your fault,” he whispered. “The equipment’s old. Accidents happen.”

“She’ll be okay, right?” Loren’s voice was barely audible.

He stroked her cheek tenderly. “Even if I had to choose again a hundred times… I’d still protect you first.”

“Why?” Loren lifted her tear-streaked face.

Arthur gazed at her, his voice low and fervent. “Because I like—”

The ward door burst open.

Startled, Loren sprang away from Arthur’s arms like a frightened rabbit.

Abraham stepped in cautiously, his small face flushed as he cradled a lunch box with both hands.

“Abraham, did you bring this for Mommy?” I asked softly, warmth blooming in my chest despite the pain. I knew he couldn’t cook, but seeing him here, so concerned, still touched me.

To my surprise, Abraham’s expression twisted into a frown.

“It’s not for you,” he muttered. “I bought it for Aunt Loren with my own pocket money.”

My breath caught.

“What did you just say?” My voice trembled—not from weakness, but from anger.

Abraham looked away, face full of irritation—so much like his father’s.

Loren seized the moment and rushed to the bedside, gripping my wrist tightly. “Sister, I’m so glad you’re okay! Does it still hurt? I was so scared... It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t—”

I pulled my hand away and rasped, “Yes, I am hurt. All because of you.”

At that moment, my parents entered the room, their expressions stormy.

My mother frowned. “She’s just worried about you. How can you speak to her like that?”

My father shook his head and sighed. “You’ve always had a difficult personality. If it weren’t for Loren’s patience, who could put up with you?”

Loren’s shoulders quivered as tears streamed down her cheeks. She looked heartbreakingly pitiful. “I’m sorry... It’s all my fault...”

Then, casting one last sorrowful glance at Arthur, she turned and ran out of the ward.

Arthur watched her go with a conflicted gaze. Then, without a word to me, he followed her.

Not even a glance back.

Abraham spun on me, eyes blazing. “Look at you! You’re nothing compared to Aunt Loren! You should’ve divorced Dad a long time ago and let her take your place!”

I stared at him, stunned.

This was the same child I had given up everything for.

When he was born with health issues, I’d quit a promising career and dedicated three years of my life—day and night—to care for him, nourish him, raise him into the healthy boy he was now.

And this was what he had become?

“Abraham!” My mother grabbed his arm in alarm. “Don’t talk nonsense!”

But he wrenched away. “She’s the one who bullies people! No wonder Dad doesn’t want her!”

I turned to the window. The sun was bright outside, but in this room, all I felt was cold.

Abraham pouted as his father disappeared. He tugged at Loren’s mother’s sleeve and whined, “I want to stay with Aunt Loren! I want to buy her candy so she won’t be sad!”

Lin’s mother stroked his head gently. “Alright, we’ll go find her together.”

Before leaving, she looked at me and said, without warmth, “You should rest.”

Then they were gone.

For the next five days, no one visited.

Not my husband, not my son, not even my parents.

I might as well have been invisible.

Alone, I smiled bitterly and pulled out my phone to order takeout.

The delivery man was more considerate than my so-called family. He set up the food neatly, adjusted the bed for me, and even asked if I needed help.

As I ate in silence, I couldn’t help but think: even strangers show more care than those closest to me.

---

The day I was discharged, I didn’t go home.

I went straight to the research institute.

By the time Arthur arrived—still glued to Loren—I had already brought the police with me to gather evidence.

He stormed in, face dark with fury. “She’s your sister, and you called the police?”

“For a good reason,” I said coldly.

“You’re unbelievable! Everyone’s right—you’re just an ungrateful woman!”

I laughed. “If you weren’t guilty, why would you be so nervous? Afraid the truth might come out?”

“Arthur, when Loren tampered with equipment, waste leaked and crucial data was lost. We’ve spent days and nights collecting that research. You’re the institute director—shouldn’t you care more about the team than defending her?”

“I’ll take responsibility for all damages,” he snapped.

“And my injury?” I asked, voice sharp.

“What else do you want from me?” His tone turned cold. “I’ll give you anything—just stop bothering Loren.”

“Anything?” I stared at the man I’d spent seven years with and saw a stranger. “Even your dignity?”

The knife in my hand glinted. I held it out, pressing it against his chest.

“My back is covered in burns. How about you give me a patch of skin as compensation?”

“Fine!” he barked. No hesitation.

Arthur, third-generation heir of the prestigious Slater Family, renowned doctor—ready to do anything for Loren.

My hand trembled. The blade felt like ice in my palm.

Just as I pressed it forward, Loren screamed, “No!”

She flung herself in front of him.

The knife slashed her forearm. Bright blood spilled down her pale skin.

She whimpered in pain, curling in on herself, still shielding him. “Sister, please... don’t...”

Arthur’s face contorted in horror. “Lora, look what you’ve done!”

Loren stumbled back into his arms. He caught her, his hands instantly pressing against the bleeding wound.

Then he looked up at me—and for the first time, I saw real hatred in his eyes.

I shivered.

I turned, fumbling for supplies to stop the bleeding, but he barked, “You think you can hurt her and just walk away?”

Loren’s face was deathly pale, but she tugged on his sleeve. “Don’t blame Sister... she’s just upset... it’s my fault...”

“If anything happens to her,” Arthur snarled, lifting her in his arms, “I’ll make you pay.”

The door slammed behind him with a deafening bang.