My boyfriend was crippled when he saved me, while his adoptive sister suffered from heart failure after protecting us from misfortune. She had to depend on the expensive imported medicines to sustain life.

To pay for their treatment, I sold myself as a lifecasting model on the black market.

Not only were my hands and feet coated in the heated silicon, but I also needed to endure strangers touching me without flinching.

I needed to pay if the replica was damaged.

I begged through my tears, only to receive a few slaps to my face in return.

They scolded, "You signed up for this. Don't act innocent now."

Humiliated, exhausted, and aching, I still took the money straight to the hospital to buy medicine for his sister.

When I passed by the VIP lounge, I heard a familiar laughter.

"Chris, this is the 998th test, isn't it? Are you really marrying her once she passes the 999th test?"

With a slight frown, Christopher answered, "Yeah. Although testing her is a family tradition, and they're having you to supervise, don't overdo it. I won't have another bride."

I froze.

Every sacrifice. Every humiliation. Every bit of pain I had endured—it had all been a test. A game to see whether I was worthy of marrying him.

Staring at my bruised reflection in the fire-resistant glass, I let out a sudden chuckle.

Then, with trembling hands, I turned on the old phone I hadn't touched in two years.

I felt tears roll down my cheeks when I told the other person on the line, "Declan, take me home. I regret everything."

True Colors

After sending the message, I pushed through the pain to leave. I didn't want to run into them.

Suddenly, someone pushed open the door of the VIP lounge.

Instinctively, I slipped into the fire exit and left the door cracked open just enough to see outside. Dianne Emerson stepped out first, carrying a bag of vitamin supplements.

She studied the bottles before mocking, "Riley may be cheap, but her taste is surprisingly good."

To earn the money for those supplements, I had nearly been harassed by a pack of disgusting men.

Back then, all I could think about was her calling my name, her face pale from struggling to breathe.

So, I forced myself to endure it all, just to buy her the medicine.

It turned out that she never needed them.

"Enough. Riley's going to be your sister-in-law soon. Stop talking about her like that," said a voice I knew all too well.

I couldn't believe my eyes when my crippled boyfriend, who struggled to walk on his own in the last two years, rose to his feet.

Christopher Turner approached her at a steady pace and stopped, standing tall and upright.

He was clearly healthy.

He produced a pair of shoes out of nowhere and showed them to her. "Your family sent the limited edition shoes. Try them on!"

"But Chris, I have a heart problem. Help me try them on, will you?" Giggling, she lifted her leg.

He simply sighed and dropped to one knee. "Fine. I'll do whatever you want as long as you help Riley pass her tests."

Once he finished, she defiantly rested her foot on his knee, waiting for him to put on the shoe.

After that, she caressed his thigh with the tip of her shoe.

She was no doubt flirting with him. Worse still, he allowed it.

I had seen the price of the shoes online. They cost 200 thousand, yet he told me that the two of them were too broke for painkillers more than once in the last two years.

So, I had worked myself to the bone, saving money for their surgeries. I hadn't even let myself buy a cheap new pair of shoes. I was still wearing the same sneakers long after the soles had started falling apart.

In winter, my toes swelled with chilblains from the cold. I never told Christopher. I just rubbed toothpaste on them to stop the itching.

I didn't want to worry him. I didn't want him to feel bad for burdening me.

In the end, I had been the fool all along.

I couldn't even remember how I made it out of the hospital.

When I returned home, he was already waiting in his wheelchair. "There you are, Riley. You're late today. You must be exhausted."

He rubbed his so-called crippled leg and looked at me with concern, his brows drawn together as if he were in terrible pain.

Back then, I would've rushed to his side and massaged his legs as soon as I noticed a frown on his face.

But today, I saw his true colors.

"Riley…" At that moment, Dianne came out of her room.

She leaned against the wall for support, panting hard, looking as though she might collapse at any second.

"Riley, I'm out of medicine. Did you buy more? My chest hurts so much…"

She really was a natural actress.

If I hadn't just seen her lively and perfectly healthy at the hospital, I would have believed her again.

Her supposed illness had terrified me for so long that I had thrown myself into the black market and spent my hard-earned money at the hospital over and over again.

Today, I discovered that everything was a lie.

Christopher didn't hurt himself to save me, and she didn't suffer from heart failure.

'Could it be that the accident two years ago, when he was hurt, was also a setup?'

My blood ran cold in my veins at the idea, but I decided to give him another chance.

"I'm exhausted," I said, "and I got blisters on my hands today, so I didn't buy anything."

As I spoke, I held out my hands so he could see the raw blisters. "Christopher, my hands hurt. Can you lend me two hundred so I can buy some burn cream?"

A Wicked Suggestion

Something flickered in Christopher's eyes when he saw my blistered hands, but it lasted only a second.

The next moment, his expression turned solemn again. "You'll be fine, Riley."

He looked away, unwilling to meet my eyes. "Dianne's artificial heart matters more. We have to save every penny we can. Soon… it'll be enough."

He must be referring to the 999th test.

It was important because Dianne was supervising these tests. Her attitude would influence the results, so I couldn't afford to upset her.

He still believed that we could get married and finally begin our happily-ever-after after I passed the last test.

But now, I opted out.

Before I could open my mouth, Dianne teared up. "Riley, please don't blame Chris. It's all my fault for burdening the two of you. I'm truly sorry. I don't need the medicine, just please don't be angry…"

Then, she pretended to throw herself against the wall.

Christopher grabbed her in time. His face was filled with worry.

He turned to me. "Riley, just listen to me once, will you? Forget about the burn cream. Just rinse your hands if they're hurting again. Everything will be fine soon, I promise."

Staring at the reddened skin on the back of my hands, I couldn't help but recall the past two years.

I bought cheap sanitary napkins sold in bulk instead of the good-quality ones to save money for Dianne's imported medicines. As a result, I had an allergic reaction and experienced a rash.

To help Christopher recover, I gave all the meat to him and drank only the broth myself, until my weight dropped below ninety pounds.

And all that time, I carried the guilt like a stone inside me.

I kept thinking that I was the one who caused him to hurt his leg and Dianne to have a heart problem.

I thought I owed my life to them, so I worked myself to exhaustion to pay them back.

However, I discovered the truth today.

"Sure, I understand." I nodded and turned into the cramped bathroom.

I turned the water tap and rinsed my aching hands in the cold water.

Tears fell along with the water splattered onto my face into my mouth. I could taste bile in my throat.

Just then, my phone vibrated.

An unknown caller sent me a simple message, stating, "Got it."

But I knew it was Declan.

He was the only person who would contact me in such a way.

My nightmare would end soon.

…

After showering, I collapsed onto the bed and passed out. By midnight, I had developed a fever.

I groggily forced myself to get up to fill a cup of water.

Before I could lift the curtain at the door, I heard Dianne's hushed voice outside. "Chris, let her last test be a full-body lifecast."

He sounded hesitant. "It's too risky. What if she suffocates?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck, drawling sickeningly sweet, "Well, only then can it prove that she isn't after your wealth but truly loves you. Think about it, your family has no more reason against your marriage if she proves that she's willing to sacrifice herself for you."

I had heard about the full-body lifecast on the black market.

The model would be covered in plaster or silicone. Only their nostrils remained clear.

If anything went wrong—accidentally or otherwise—it could lead to suffocation.

Even though a second person was monitoring the process, it took time. And until the mold was removed, the model couldn't eat or drink.

It was an incredibly dangerous process, one that demanded a terrible price from the person inside it.

The fever and disbelief made me shiver.

Meanwhile, she continued to coax. "After this final test, the two of you can finally live happily ever after."

Christopher didn't answer immediately.

He was silent for a long time—long enough for me to think he was feeling bad for me and talked her out of the ridiculous request.

Finally, his decision crushed my hope. "Fine. We'll do as you say. I'm going back to bed."

He pushed his wheelchair toward the door. Terrified, I slipped back into bed and pretended to be asleep.

My heart hammered in my chest.

I couldn't stay here anymore. I needed to protect myself against them before Declan came to get me.

Once Christopher was deep in slumber, I pushed myself up despite the pain and went to the door.

The moment my hand touched the handle, a blinding light snapped on.

"Where are you going at this hour, Riley?"

Confrontation

Dianne pointed the flashlight in my face.

I forced myself to stay calm and lifted my bruised hand. "My hand hurts too much. I can't sleep. I just wanted to get some air on the balcony."

She suddenly laughed, soft and strange. Then, she walked toward me with a glass of water, swaying slightly with each step. "Riley, you're having a fever. Going outdoors will worsen your condition. Here, have some water."

At that moment, she released her grip on the glass.

It shattered on the floor.

"What is it? What happened?"

The noise woke Christopher.

He came out in his wheelchair. When he spotted me at the door, he went pale. "Riley, where are you going?"

I looked at the two of them, still putting on their little act, and something inside me finally snapped.

"Stop pretending, Christopher. Your legs are fine. Dianne isn't sick either. The two of you have been lying to me this whole time, haven't you?"

He froze.

I raised my blistered hands, my voice shaking. "It hurts so much. I just want to go to the hospital and rest for once. Please let me go. Haven't I done enough already?"

A hint of panic flashed across his eyes. He instantly grabbed my wrist, and his fingers pressed onto where it hurt most.

"Let go of me, Christopher! You're hurting me!" I cried in pain and broke into a cold sweat.

However, he tightened his fingers around my wrist instead of releasing me.

"I know you're hurting, Riley, but I swear it's the last time. Let's get married after you pass the test, all right?"

The anxious look on his face should have felt familiar. Instead, it felt terrifying.

Two years ago, he rushed at me and shielded me without a second thought the moment the car accident happened.

His gesture deeply touched me, and I swore to take good care of him for the rest of my life.

Back then, Declan—who had ties to both the underworld and the police overseas—had warned me.

"That accident looked staged. Come home, Riley. I'll cover his medical expenses. I'll support him for life if I have to. Just don't trust him."

I refused to listen to him.

I thought Declan was only saying that because of the kind of world he moved in.

In a rage, he cursed and threatened to leave me to my fate.

Now, it seemed he had seen the truth long before I did.

"No. I don't want to marry you! I don't love you anymore, Christopher. I want to go home and back to Declan…"

I broke into tears and struggled, trying to shake him off.

Fury burned in Christopher's eyes when he heard my words. "This is your home. You don't need to go anywhere. Who do you plan to marry if it's not me?"

Dianne smirked. "Chris, since she already knows everything, why wait? Let's do it tonight."

After a moment of silence, he nodded.

"You're right. No need to drag this on."

Then, he rose from the wheelchair. He covered my mouth and threw me over his shoulder.

I let out a muffled protest.

The dark, wet basement workshop was only two blocks away.

"Forgive me, Riley. I just love you so much."

The streets were empty at three in the morning, and the fever made my head spin.

…

Christopher brought me to the basement and laid me on the workbench. He kissed my forehead. "Don't worry, Riley. I've asked the owner to adjust the temperature to the right setting. You won't get hurt at all."

A sensation of terror coiled around my neck like a snake.

"Just close your eyes, and it'll pass. We'll get married once you wake up." Then, he turned to the workshop owner. "Please be careful not to hurt her."

"Of course, Mr. Turner. You can leave it to me."

…

Then, the door slammed shut.

"Who does he take me for?"

As soon as Christopher was out of sight, the owner clicked his tongue disdainfully and leisurely walked up to me.

He picked up a pair of scissors and flashed them at me, revealing something horrible. "There's no way I'm monitoring the temperature. Miss Emerson paid extra to make sure you don't make it out of this."