"Mrs. Brandy, try Doctor Steven's seafood porridge. I ate it once when Doctor Steven and I went to the beach. I said it was delicious and Doctor Steven said he wanted to learn how to make it. I just tried it and it tastes exactly the same as it did then."

Steven looked at me with a hint of panic.

He always said his hands were meant for saving lives and he never did any cooking or housework. Last month, he had started coming into the kitchen after getting off work and making a mess.

At the time, my child was seriously ill and I was exhausted. I thought he felt sorry for me and wanted to share some of my burden.

While cleaning up his mess, I held onto a bittersweet hope that he would cook for me and my child again. It turned out he was just trying to recreate Kelly’s seafood porridge.

The stench of that fishy smell I hated so much nearly made my skin break out in a rash.

I covered my mouth, stepped back and said coldly, "I'm allergic to seafood. Take it away."

Kelly’s hand suddenly trembled, spilling the scalding porridge onto her chest. She screamed and tumbled down the stairs.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Brandy. I didn’t know... Doctor Steven, it hurts so much..."

"Milena! Are you crazy?" Steven roared. "Kelly didn’t know you were allergic. How could you push her down like that?"

"I didn’t!" I retorted, suppressing my urge to gag. "You still don’t believe me? Could Kelly have spilled her porridge on her own?"

He looked at me with disgust and said, "You look like a madwoman right now."

He lifted Kelly in his arms and walked out, "I’m warning you, remove Kelly and me from the list immediately. Otherwise, I’ll never let you go!"

Of course, I ignored his threat.

The third-party management company called and said they had taken over completely. All personnel matters had been handled and the list of those assigned to the African branch hospital had been issued.

I was very pleased with their efficiency and only asked them to check the operating room surveillance footage from the day the children went into surgery.

The footage hadn’t been available a few days ago because Steven wouldn’t allow it. The HR staff sided with him and when they heard I wanted to review the footage, they all shirked their responsibilities.

Now, no one could stop me.

The management staff went to check the footage and called back a few minutes later, sounding apologetic saying, "The surveillance footage from that day has been deleted."

My hand, gripping the phone, turned pale. There was no need to guess who had deleted it. To protect his beloved apprentice, he truly would have done anything.

"But don’t worry, our technicians can attempt to restore the file."

I breathed a sigh of relief and immediately promised that if they succeeded, everyone’s bonus would be doubled.

As soon as the list was released, my phone started ringing off the hook. The doctors who once addressed me with “Mrs. Parker, thank you for training me to become a doctor,” now sent me curses.

[Milena, you can’t catch the mistress, so you take it out on us. Don’t try to use me as a scapegoat. I’m going to expose your actions to the media. I won’t give you any money and I won’t go to Africa.]

[Mrs. Parker, please have mercy on me. I’m getting married soon and have a mortgage. Don’t drag us into your affairs with Doctor Steven.]

[You old witch, just wait. Wait until Doctor Steven divorces you and my best friend takes over. Then we’ll see how you can still act tyrannically.]

I checked their resumes one by one and sent them to the management company.

"Calculate how much I’ve spent on training each person. If they don’t want to go to Africa, then according to the contract, triple the compensation."

I had been very kind. Training a doctor wasn’t easy and it wasn’t easy for them to become good doctors either.

I didn’t want to ruin them. I just wanted to take back what I deserved.

When the list was finally released and he saw that he and Kelly were still on it, Steven completely lost his patience.

When the call went through, his tone was already full of anger.

"How long are you going to keep making this a fuss? You're not going to stop until everyone's complaining and the hospital is shut down. Do you know how many surgeries are scheduled today? How can you expect these doctors on the list to work peacefully?"

"This is a hospital, a place to save lives, not a place for you to vent your anger and make trouble. Take down the notice immediately and come to the hospital to apologize to everyone! Each person will receive a year's worth of performance compensation as compensation!"

I replied calmly, "They signed the funding agreement and agreed to comply with any transfer orders from the hospital. If they receive a transfer order and can’t function normally, they’re unworthy of being doctors."

On the other end of the line, he began panting and swearing, "You're crazy! Fine, since you won't be persuaded, don't blame me for being rude. Milena, remember, you were the one who started the falling out."

After the call ended, I felt no relief. Only bitterness and sorrow.

I had tried to convince myself that it wasn’t that he didn’t love me or the children, but that he just had a cold temper. But it turned out he could also lose control of his anger. It turned out he really had never loved us. I had wasted ten years of my life with someone who didn’t love me.

I watched helplessly as he destroyed my two children.

I didn’t respond to any of the insults.

As if to provoke me further, Steven began to retaliate publicly. He openly brought Kelly to various academic conferences and dinners. They wore matching outfits and held hands during interviews.

Even at the press conference for a project I had successfully funded, he exclaimed, "Kelly has made a significant contribution to this project. Without her, this project wouldn't have been possible."

They exchanged a smile and the media captured their moment. The photo was published with the headline:

"Cardiologist Steven and his wife appear at a research conference."

"Loving couple. Extraordinary. Let’s create a wonderful story together."

He forwarded the news, saying only, "I'm very happy about the new drug release."

He didn’t mention the reporter’s misunderstanding that Kelly was his wife.

The comments were filled with praise for their perfect match and messages of congratulations.

Someone questioned. [Doctor Steven, this isn't appropriate.]

But the next second, the comment was deleted.

I calmly watched it, took a screenshot and sent it to my lawyer.

Perhaps my lack of reaction bored them.

Someone sent me a secretly filmed video. In the dressing room, Kelly’s burns were exposed and Steven was applying medication with a cotton swab.

Kelly groaned, "Doctor Steven, it hurts. Why don’t you just use your finger?"

Steven’s Adam’s apple bobbed and he threw the cotton swab away.

The video ended there.

The person who posted the video sent a laughing emoji with a hand covering his mouth.

[Mrs. Parker, don’t misunderstand. It’s just a change of medication.]

I replied calmly, [No. They’re going to Africa together anyway, so I don’t care what they do.]

On the seventh day after my children’s death, I decorated the house in an Ultraman theme. Their biggest wish had been to have an Ultraman-themed birthday party.

They had waited for a long time, but every year Steven vetoed it, "Why decoration is that important? It’ll mess up the house. Just have cake."

But he rarely even ate birthday cake with them. He always said he was busy and didn’t have time for the children.

But he was free to spend an entire day with Kelly at Disneyland.

My child, you finally made it to this world. You deserved at least one birthday you could enjoy.

With tears in my eyes, I sang Happy Birthday over and over in front of the urn.

The phone rang. It was someone from the management company, speaking urgently. "Something's happened. Check online! Doctor Steven and the hospital doctors are going on strike to boycott you."

I opened my phone and saw a video posted from Steven’s personal account. He was dressed in a suit and tie, with Kelly at his side.

With a serious face, he said, "Although Milena is my wife, I cannot bear to see her continue her madness. Ever since the surgery failed, she’s been madly suspecting me of killing the child. She’s even implicated the anesthesiologist who performed the surgery with me—my student Kelly—whom she’s slandered and smeared. She’s also taken it out on the doctors at the hospital who spoke up for us, forcing them to be exiled to Africa, demanding exorbitant ransoms from those who refused."

He continued, "Because this incident affects the future of us doctors, I once again join forces with the doctors who were persecuted in this incident and declare a strike. We will no longer perform any surgeries! Until Milena apologizes to us and compensates everyone for the emotional pain they’ve suffered during this time. Especially my student Kelly—she must kneel down and apologize to her!"

Kelly, eyes red and sobbing, said, "Mrs. Parker, I hope you will stop slandering me. Don’t send me to Africa. I’m the only daughter my parents have."

The comment section was flooded with patients’ families crying and begging me to apologize.

[My father’s illness really can’t be delayed any longer. He’ll die if he doesn’t.]

[Please, Mrs. Parker, just apologize! I kneel before you. Only Doctor Steven can save my daughter.]

I clutched the phone tightly. My calm heart finally shattered.

Steven called, threatening, "Milena, you don’t want your reputation to be ruined and the hospital destroyed, do you?"

I cried out, heartbroken, "Bitch! Steven, you bitch!"

"Didn’t I give them a choice? The contract said they either went to the branch hospital for three years or paid liquidated damages. They agreed to it voluntarily! Why should they go on strike with you just because they refused to fulfill their contract? It’s not enough that you killed my children—are you going to kill more? How can you be a doctor? How can you be a human being!?"

This was the first time I had cursed him like that and Steven was stunned for a few seconds.

But then he spoke impatiently, "You’re absolutely crazy! I told you, the children died because of bad luck! No one hurt them! You’re just delusional! "If you don’t want to watch those patients die, then kneel down and apologize and compensate! Just say you’re delusional, that you misunderstood Kelly and me and that everything about Kelly and me was fabricated by you and then remove the aid to Africa announcement and we’ll start the surgery. Also, you have to say you’re seriously ill and need to go to a mental hospital and make me the person in charge of the hospital..."

I said viciously, "Dream on, Steven! Go to hell and do your shameful thing! Dream on! Everything I did was legal. Why should I apologize? Did I force you to go to Disneyland with Kelly? Did I hold you down when you kissed and touched her breasts?!"

"She used the wrong anesthesia dosage and killed my son and you sided with her and deleted the surgical surveillance records. You two bastards, go to hell and atone for your sins—for my children!"