Randall stood beneath the light, staring at me coldly, as if he were judging a criminal.

“If it weren’t for your bullying, how could Samantha have been frightened like that?”

“She nearly miscarried just now. Do you have any idea?”

When he said this, his voice was thick with barely suppressed anger—yet there wasn’t a trace of hesitation.

“Now we’re only asking your brother to donate a little blood. What’s the big deal?”

What’s the big deal?

I looked at the man before me—the man I had loved for seven years, the man I had compromised for again and again, forgiven again and again—and suddenly he felt terrifyingly unfamiliar.

That was when I finally lost control.

“Randall, are you even human?”

My voice trembled, but every word was bitten out hard.

“That’s my brother. He’s still sick. A blood transfusion could kill him!”

“For Samantha’s sake, you don’t even care about human life anymore?”

“Where is your conscience, Randall?!”

I was almost screaming. My chest felt like it had been ripped open alive, every breath tearing with pain.

But Randall suddenly let out a cold laugh.

There was no anger at being exposed, no shame at being condemned—only blatant impatience, like he was looking at a hysterical troublemaker.

“Enough with the nonsense. You keep talking about me and Samantha, but I haven’t even asked you yet—who was the man who took you away last night?!”

I froze. My heart clenched tightly. Instinctively, I thought he had found out about me asking Steven for help.

Randall said coldly,

“My mom said you were taken away by another man.”

“So,” he stared at me icily, “all this drama lately—breaking up, withdrawing the lawsuit, losing control emotionally—isn’t it just because you’ve got someone else outside?”

“You already planned yourself a way out, didn’t you? That’s why you dare to act so self-righteous now?”

“Tara, have you forgotten who you are?”

Sentence after sentence, pure distortion of the truth.

All my breakdowns, my despair, my resistance after being driven into a corner—he reduced it all to one accusation:

That I had cheated.

I looked at him and suddenly wanted to laugh.

But the laughter got stuck in my throat, no matter how hard I tried. In the end, all that remained was complete and utter shattering.

“I fainted.”

“If I hadn’t called for help myself, if I had waited for your parents to suddenly grow a conscience one day while I lay in your house, I might already be dead!”

For a brief moment, Randall’s expression darkened.

For that single second, I foolishly thought—did he finally feel guilty?

But it really was only a second.

Very quickly, he returned to that calm, matter-of-fact expression.

“I don’t care.”

He said it with unsettling composure, as if announcing a decision made long ago.

“Right now, Samantha needs a blood transfusion.”

“Your brother’s blood type is compatible. This is your punishment.”

The moment those words landed, my entire body went cold.

I clenched my teeth so hard my mouth filled with the taste of blood.

“Then take mine!”

“Take my blood!”

“I have a rare blood type too!”

For a brief instant, Randall’s gaze flickered. He hesitated.

But soon enough, he looked away. He raised a hand in a small gesture, his tone cold and clipped.

“In that case, take her over.”

The next second, hospital staff restrained me and prepared me for the transfusion.

The moment the needle pierced my vein, my body jolted violently. A chill shot straight up my spine.

Cold fluid flowed out through the tube, and it felt as though I was being hollowed out, bit by bit.

Halfway through, the doctor frowned and lowered his voice.

“That’s already quite a lot. Her physical condition isn’t good. If we keep drawing—”

“How much does Samantha need?”

Randall interrupted him, not even glancing at me.

The doctor hesitated.

“In theory… the more, the better. It’ll be more stable.”

“Then keep drawing.”

Randall’s voice was flat, devoid of any emotion.

“Don’t stop.”

At that moment, I didn’t even have the strength to open my eyes.

Cold spread through me. My vision blurred in waves. The sounds around me felt muffled, as if filtered through water.

As my blood was drained away bit by bit, my consciousness collapsed inch by inch with it.

Just as I was about to pass out completely, a hand suddenly covered mine, gripping my palm.

Randall lowered his head, his voice pressed low.

As though he were granting me the last scraps of tenderness.

“This is the last time, Tara.”

“Once we get married, everything will get better.”

“Just endure it.”

I kept my eyes closed.

I didn’t answer.

I didn’t even have the strength to answer.

Because at that very moment, the last remaining fragment of feeling I had for him shattered completely.

As soon as the procedure ended, Randall immediately went to attend to Samantha.

I was pushed into a ward and slept for an entire day.

When I woke up again, there was no emotion left in me—only a firm resolve to repay everything in kind.

Three days before I left, behind Randall’s back, Erwin and I successfully sent my brother abroad and transferred him to an extremely private hospital.

Two days before I left, I retrieved the surveillance footage that had previously been installed in the Hendershots household.

The recordings clearly captured the affair between William and Samantha’s mother—and even accidentally recorded them talking about their illegitimate child outside the marriage.

I anonymously sent the video to everyone in both the Hendershots and Massrys, and simultaneously forwarded it to several reporters.

On the morning of my final day, I posted a scheduled thread on the hospital’s internal forum.

I wrote in detail how, as an ophthalmologist, my hands—the very hands I relied on to survive—had been systematically destroyed.

And how there was a certain type of eye surgery that, at present, only I was capable of performing in the entire country.

At the same time, I submitted to the court all the evidence regarding my lawsuit against Samantha’s father, as well as proof of Randall’s intent to endanger my brother’s life.

During those three days, Randall stayed by Samantha’s side the entire time, accompanying her through her pregnancy stabilization.

If he had spared even a little attention for me, things would never have gone this smoothly.

That night, I went back to the apartment I had once shared with Randall.

I walked straight into the bedroom and began clearing out my things, one item at a time.

A few pieces of clothing he had personally picked out for me were still hanging in the closet.

In the far corner of the bookshelf was a photo of us from the year we first got together.

I didn’t pause.

I didn’t hesitate.

Anything that could be thrown away, I tossed.

Everything else went into boxes.

I was halfway through packing when I heard the sound of a key turning in the lock.

Randall walked in—with Samantha.

When he saw me standing in the living room, he froze. His expression stiffened for a split second, clearly caught off guard.

“Why are you—”

He stopped himself and quickly recovered, as if afraid I might misunderstand.

“Samantha isn’t feeling well, so I asked her to stay here for a few days.”

“Her family’s out of town, and the nanny isn’t around. It’s easier for me to keep an eye on her here.”

He added another sentence, his tone carrying a hint of nervousness he didn’t even seem aware of.

“It’ll only be a few days. Don’t take it the wrong way.”

I zipped the suitcase shut, looked up at him, and spoke calmly.

“I understand.”

Randall was visibly stunned.

My composure unsettled him.

“You…”

He opened his mouth, but didn’t know what to say next.

Just as the atmosphere grew tense, Samantha suddenly spoke softly.

“Randall, I’m a little hungry. Could you make something for me?”

He didn’t hesitate for even a second.

“Okay. Sit down and rest.”

It was the first time he had ever cooked in this apartment.

For another woman.

Before heading into the kitchen, he seemed to remember something and casually asked me,

“Do you want to eat something too?”

I took a deep breath.

“No.”

I hadn’t eaten food he made before. There was no reason to start now.

The moment the kitchen door closed, the weakness on Samantha’s face vanished.

She looked at me coldly, her voice filled with undisguised disdain.

“Why are you so clueless? I wanted some alone time with my brother.”

I was exhausted and didn’t feel like engaging.

“I’ll be leaving soon.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t bother you.”

She smiled instead. “I don’t believe you.”

“I prefer kicking out people I don’t like myself.”

Before I could react, she suddenly reached out and grabbed me.

I hadn’t even processed what was happening when she yanked me hard backward.

As I lost my balance, she used me as a cushion, slamming me straight into the coffee table.

The vase on the table shattered against my back.

Cold porcelain shards and water exploded everywhere.

I let out a muffled groan. It felt like my back had been torn open, a burning pain ripping through me as blood quickly ran down my spine.

I braced myself against the sofa, clenching my teeth just to stay upright.

“Samantha, are you insane?!”

Samantha, who had been on top of me, was completely unharmed.

She collapsed onto the floor, her voice suddenly piercingly loud.

“Ah!”

“What are you doing, pushing me?!”

“It hurts… my leg!”

She cried helplessly, pitiful and wronged, as if she had suffered some enormous injustice.

The kitchen door flew open.

Randall rushed out.

The moment he took in the scene, his expression darkened to its lowest point.

He strode over, scooped Samantha up in his arms, and checked her injuries, his voice tightly restrained with anger.

“Where are you hurt?”

When he looked up at me again, there was nothing in his eyes but disgust.

“Have you lost your mind?!”

“Tara, how much longer are you going to keep this up?!”

My back throbbed with numb pain as I replied coldly,

“I didn’t push her.”

Randall didn’t want to hear it.

“You make me sick.”

“Tara, let me make this clear.”

“From today on, I won’t pay a single cent for your brother’s medical bills.”

“When you finally realize how wrong you’ve been, I’ll consider restoring them.”

He didn’t know that my brother had already been transferred.

Maybe because I was about to leave, I suddenly felt that if I didn’t say certain things now, I’d regret it.

“Randall.”

I called out to him softly.

“If I say I didn’t push her, would you believe me?”

I reached up and pulled open my coat.

My back was exposed to the air.

The wounds carved open by shattered porcelain were horrifying—blood mixed with water and grime, an appalling sight.

Compared to the faint, deliberately manufactured redness on Samantha, it was like night and day.

Randall’s pupils shrank sharply.

He took two unconscious steps toward me, his Adam’s apple bobbing, a flicker of concern flashing in his eyes.

He was about to say something.

But in the next second, Samantha whimpered softly in his arms.

“Randall… she really did drag me down with her.”

“My stomach hurts so much…”

Randall stopped.

He tightened his hold around her and his voice turned cold again.

“Stop pretending. Do you think this is enough to frame her?”

“I know exactly what kind of person Samantha is.”

He turned and walked out without sparing me another glance.

When the door closed, I suddenly laughed.

My mind went completely blank.

I changed into clean clothes and went straight to the airport, boarding the next flight out.

Everything else, I handed over to Erwin.

As the plane took off, I looked out the window at the city shrinking into the distance, an unexpected calm settling over me.

‘Randall, I hope you’ll be very surprised when you receive the gift I left behind tomorrow.’