I die in the corridor of the private hospital my husband established after being forced to give my heart to his true love.

Before my death, my six-year-old son tearfully begs him to save me thrice.

The first time, he holds my husband's hand and says I'm coughing up blood.

My husband sneers. "Looks like she's learned tricks—she knows how to teach children to lie now."

Then, he has his bodyguards kick my son out of the ward.

The second time, my son grabs his sleeve and says I'm in so much pain that I'm incoherent.

My husband frowns. "It's just a heart transplant. The doctor said she won't die."

The bodyguards step forward and drag my son out of the ward again.

The third time, my son grovels at my husband's feet and grabs his pants, sobbing and saying that I'm already unconscious.

My husband is infuriated. He grabs my son by the neck and throws him out of the ward.

"I told you Nadia won't die! I'll throw her and you out of the hospital if you come here and disturb Ruby's rest again!"

My son gives his most previous item—a guardian angel pendant—to a nurse to save me. The nurse accepts it and arranges for me to be admitted to the last available ward in the hospital.

However, Ruby Sharpe has someone stand before it with her pet dog. She says, "Sorry, kiddo. Your father's worried I'll be bored without my dog, so this ward has been set aside for my dog to stay in."

They moved my hospital bed into the hallway to make space for Ruby Sharpe's dog in the last available hospital room.

When the door closed, my son, Micah, still held the guardian angel pendant he had just taken off. His fists, now slightly bruised, kept pounding against the door.

"Ms. Sharpe, please give my mom her room back! Ms. Sharpe, I'm begging you. Open the door!"

Micah's young voice carried through the hallway, but Ruby was absorbed in playing with her dog inside the room. The louder he cried, the more she seemed to enjoy it.

"Good dog. We don't bother with filthy things," she said.

Micah's voice turned rough and raw. The same boy who used to beg me to hold him over a scraped knee now wiped the blood from his fists with his shirt.

Tears filled his eyes as he spat, "You're horrible! I gave up my guardian angel pendant just to get this hospital room. You don't get to keep your dog in there! You monster!"

His voice was so strained it was hard to make out, each word shaking with a fragile, heartbreaking tremor.

I lay on my hospital bed in the hallway, tears and blood running down my face. I had failed Micah. I couldn't protect him. I felt very remorseful.

The hospital room door remained shut.

Micah walked back to my hospital bed, his eyes terribly swollen. "Mom, I'm sorry. I failed. I let that monster take our room. Mom, I'm so sorry."

I could feel my life fading. I knew I was about to die, but I didn't want to frighten Micah.

Using my last bit of strength, I managed a weak smile. "Micah, I'm feeling cold. Will you go get me a blanket?"

Micah paused for a moment, then quickly dried his tears. "Yes, I'll get it now. Mom, you have to wait for me! Please wait!"

As I watched him sprint down the hallway, my eyelids grew heavy. "Micah, I'm sorry. I can't wait any longer."

When I opened my eyes again, I was a spirit following Micah. He was smart. Knowing it was too far to go home, he immediately ran into an open hospital room when he saw one.

A young woman lay in the bed. Her husband carefully covered her with a blanket, ensuring she was completely tucked in. A five-year-old boy stood nearby, holding a cup of water and calling "Mom" sweetly.

Micah inexplicably felt the sudden urge to cry. But he couldn't. He still needed to borrow a blanket for me.

The young couple in the hospital room was surprised.

The man gently patted the dust off Micah's clothes and kindly asked, "Do you need anything, young one? Where's your mother?"

Micah scratched his palm nervously before gathering his courage to say, "Sir, my mom's sick, and she's very cold. Could you lend us a blanket? I'll trade you my guardian angel pendant for it. Please, will you help her?"

After a slight hesitation, the man reached into the cabinet, retrieved a new blanket still sealed in plastic, and passed it to Micah. "Here, take this. I hope your mother recovers soon."

The stranger's kindness left Micah speechless. Perhaps it was all the hardships he'd been through that night. He clutched the blanket tightly, murmuring thank you over and over.

"Thank you, sir. Thank you, ma'am. Thank you both."

The man waved his hand to stop him. "Don't mention it. We didn't buy this blanket. The founder of this hospital, Mr. Shepherd, provided this. He gave one to every patient's family to celebrate his loved one's successful surgery.

"See? It even has their picture on it. If you want to thank someone, just wish Mr. Shepherd and his loved one a long, happy life together."

Micah stiffened. His mind flashed to Walter Shepherd kicking him out of the hospital room. Then, another memory returned—Walter lifting him onto his shoulders, both of them laughing as they ran across the grass.

Suddenly, he couldn't hold back his tears. "I understand. I'll thank M-Mr. Shepherd."

My heart ached more than any pain I had felt on the operating table. Seeing the hollow look in Micah's eyes, I remembered everything we'd been through.

The truth was, Walter had loved Micah and me once.

He'd stay up all night choosing the perfect name after Micah was born. He'd bought out every toy store in the city for Micah's birthday. He'd hold Micah and read him fairy tales when I was sick with a fever.

But all that ended when Ruby came back from overseas. She kept setting us up, using her heart condition as an excuse. She played the helpless victim, winning Walter's sympathy.

Then, she tricked Micah into putting caterpillars on her bed and faked a heart attack when Walter walked in. After that, nothing was the same.

The man in the hospital room gave an approving nod. "And your father? Why isn't he here with you?"

Micah lowered his head. Tears fell onto the plastic cover with the printed image of Walter's and Ruby's smiling faces.

"My dad's dead," he murmured.

After saying goodbye to the kind man, Micah clutched the precious blanket and hurried back toward the main hospital building.

He had just entered the lobby when he collided with Ruby. She was cradling her dog in her arms. Her carefully applied makeup couldn't disguise the look of utter disgust that twisted her features.

"Get lost, you wretched brat. Do you know how much this outfit cost? You couldn't pay for it even if you sold yourself. You're just like your mother. Disgusting!"

Without a second glance at the bruises on Micah's forehead, Ruby drew back her foot and kicked him viciously. The sudden impact sent him crashing, the blanket flying from his arms.

He ignored the pain as he desperately reached for the blanket, but Ruby crushed his hand under her foot. She pressed down, grinding her heel into Micah's fingers while staring at him in cold fury.

"You wretched brat. Listen. If you ever play the victim in front of Walter again, I'll make sure you and your pathetic mother end up on the streets. Got it?" she threatened.

Her glare was so intense it seemed like she wanted him gone for good.

I gritted my teeth, with rage and sorrow swelling inside me until I could barely breathe. I grabbed Ruby's foot frenetically, trying to shove her away.

"Leave Micah alone! If you want to take your anger out on someone, take it out on me! Don't hurt him!" I shouted, but Ruby couldn't hear me at all.

Instead, she watched, amused, as Micah's face flushed with pain. She pressed her foot down harder.

Micah's arm jerked uncontrollably, but he refused to cry. He raised his head, his swollen eyes glaring at Ruby, who stood flawless and composed.

He yelled indignantly, "My mom isn't disgusting! She's the best mom in the world. You're a horrible person. Don't you dare hurt her!"

Then, he bit down hard on Ruby, hoping to make her retreat.

Ruby, already enraged, snapped. She drove her stiletto heel into Micah's stomach.

"You wretched brat!" she barked.

I screamed and lunged forward, trying to protect Micah. But he phased through my ghostly form and crashed against the wall, blood spurting from his mouth. Still, he wouldn't cry.

His hand fumbled weakly across the floor. "T-The blanket… Mom needs the blanket…"

Ruby wasn't finished. She set her dog down and strode over, striking Micah across the face.

"Ruby?"

Walter's voice, full of shock, froze everyone in place.

Micah's hollow eyes suddenly brightened, his cracked lips barely forming the word. "Dad…"

Walter took a step forward, but Ruby turned and stopped him. "Walter, I was just looking for you."

She laughed sweetly and motioned for the bodyguards to block Micah from sight before pressing herself against Walter.

Walter picked up on something strange and frowned. "Ruby, is that Micah on the floor? Did you hit him?"

Ruby's eyes flickered, and tears instantly spilled down her cheeks. "Walter, I'm sorry. You weren't here when Micah came in yelling terrible things at me. I don't know who told him to do it.

"I tried to ignore him, but he knocked me down. You know I'm still recovering from surgery. The doctor said—"

Walter's expression darkened, his skepticism turning to anger. "Nadia isn't doing right by him. You're already in a fragile state. If he knocked you down and made things worse, I'll ensure they pay for it."

I stood before Walter, frantic to defend Micah. "No, Micah didn't! He's innocent. Ruby is deceiving you!"

Micah must have heard him because he struggled to speak through the pain. "Dad—"

A bodyguard immediately covered his mouth, cutting him off.

Walter paused at the voice and was about to turn to look. "Was that Micah?"

Ruby's expression flashed with anger before she put on a brave face and released Walter's arm. "Go to him. I'll be fine. Even after he caused my heart attack... even after he nearly took me from you for good... he's still just a child. I've forgiven him."

Her words erased any remaining doubt in Walter's eyes. He gave a sharp, mirthless laugh and walked away without looking back.

"Fine. If Nadia can't handle her own kid, Ruby, you deal with him. A child must be disciplined. Nadia will spoil him beyond repair if he's left unchecked. I'll be waiting upstairs."

As Walter left, Micah writhed desperately in the bodyguards' grip.

Ruby stepped forward and struck him again, her blows relentless. His face was swollen and bloody, his lips split. Yet no matter how much she hit him, he refused to let go of the blanket in his arms.

Ruby wasn't done yet. She dragged her long nails over the corner of Micah's eye. "You wretched brat. You're just like your disgusting mother."

I lunged at her like a maniac. My hands grabbed for her throat, but it was no use. Falling to my knees, I broke down sobbing, begging Ruby to spare my child. But that was pointless, too.

The helpless fury burned inside me. Why had I died so soon? Why couldn't I protect Micah?

The abuse only ended when Ruby's dog let out a whimper.

She ran her hand over its smooth coat and murmured, "Sweetheart, did that scare you?"