In the end, the live stream was shut down after being reported too many times.

The burglars, furious over losing ten million dollars, were seething with rage. One of them grabbed a knife, ready to strike, but his companion stopped him.

After clicking his tongue, he sneered at Margaret. "Since Henry refuses to acknowledge this mother of his, well…"

"Let's cut her tongue and blind her—make her both mute and sightless."

"She cried her heart out when that daughter-in-law of hers died. Let's give this old woman the honor of getting rid of this corpse."

Without hesitation, the knife slashed into Margaret's tongue. She couldn't even scream as blood splattered everywhere in an instant.

At the same time, Henry—who had been feeding Derrick soup—suddenly lost his grip on the spoon. It clattered to the floor as a sharp pain shot through his heart.

When Margaret regained consciousness, she was lying on the lower deck of a cruise ship—tattered, blind, and abandoned.

Somewhere nearby, she could hear Henry's gentle voice coaxing Derrick.

With great effort, she turned over. Her body trembled at the sound of his voice.

"Henry…"

Then, the burglars' words came back to her. They said I was dead and she had to collect my body.

Blood and tears streamed down Margaret's face as she choked out my name.

The severed tendon in her tongue had given her a brief reprieve, but now the pain was unbearable. Every attempt to open her mouth sent another gush of blood spilling down her chin.

The waves crashed over Margaret, then receded, only to surge forward again. She crawled forward with difficulty as she couldn't see. At the same time, her mouth was also burning with pain.

The seawater swallowed her, retreated, and swallowed her again in an endless cycle. Saltwater flooded her nose and throat.

Any other day, Margaret would've recoiled at something as simple as rain—yet now, she simply wiped the water from her face. Her deathly pale skin was set with determination as she crawled forward.

As Henry's voice was getting closer, Margaret said to herself, "Don't give up… Jess is waiting for you…"

Finally, she could hear him just within reach.

After summoning every ounce of strength she had left, she lifted her head and, despite the excruciating pain, screamed with everything in her—

"Henry!"

Henry's head snapped down.

And then, he froze. On the ground lay Margaret—looking like nothing more than a tattered, discarded rag.

For a second, pain flashed across his face. He instinctively reached for her, wanting to help her up—

But then Bethany's voice cut through the air. "Henry, is this Mrs. Larson? Didn't Jessica say she was taken hostage? Why is she here?"

Her expression was soft, but her eyes were sharp and maliciously cold.

"Well… it makes sense. Jessica's always been jealous of how much you care for Derrick and me. She's always tried to sabotage things.

"And today is such an important day for us… I wouldn't be surprised if she was just pulling the same tricks again."

Bethany sighed and added, "Poor Mrs. Larson though… She's not young anymore, yet she's still being used like this."

Her words sent a chill through Henry's expression.

His gaze turned cold and detached, like he was looking at a stranger.

"Mom, how could you go along with everything Jessica says? How could you show up in this filthy state, trying to act pitiful?

"There are reporters everywhere. Do you have any idea how humiliating this is?

"Drop the act already. Get up!"

Margaret's heart shattered. She reached for Henry's pants, but the pain was unbearable. She could no longer force out a single word—only blood dripped from her lips.

Seeing this, Henry let out a cold laugh and impatiently pulled his foot back.

"You even used ketchup to fake blood? Mom, this is getting ridiculous."

With that, he kicked her aside. Her body hit the ground hard, and her forehead slammed into a nearby rock.

She wanted to tell Henry how much it hurt. She wanted to say something—anything. But she didn't even have the strength to open her mouth.

When Margaret didn't move, Henry stepped closer and reached down to pull her up—

Then, a sudden ringtone shattered the moment.

"Hello, is this Mr. Larson? Your wife, Jessica Bennett, and your mother, Margaret Chapman, were taken hostage earlier today for ransom.

"Your wife was killed on the spot, and your mother's whereabouts are currently unknown. We need you to come in for an investigation right now."

Henry's heart skipped a beat.

His gaze snapped back down just in time to see Margaret cough up another mouthful of blood.

Her lifeless eyes stared into the void. Her trembling fingers instinctively reached for him as he crouched down.

Her torn lips moved so she could sum up a whisper. "Henry… save Jess…"

Henry squatted down, and a wave crashed over them, soaking his clothes—and his heart. Without hesitation, Henry scooped Margaret into his arms.

His voice broke, raw with anguish. "What is going on?"