Five years after our son was born, I finally faced the truth: my wife didn't love me—or our boy.

Determined to end this miserable marriage, I made plans to leave and take our son with me.

But fate had other ideas. A car accident cost me a kidney and took our son's eye.

At my lowest point, my usually distant wife fell to her knees right in the hospital corridor, begging for forgiveness. She swore she would spend the rest of her life taking care of us.

We decided to give her one last chance—a 100-day trial. If she made it, we'd stay together.

But on the ninety-ninth day, my son and I overheard her talking to the attending physician.

"Emma," the doctor said, "did you really arrange that accident to secure organs for Daniel Carter's son? You did that to take a kidney from your husband and an eye from your son—was it worth it?"

Emma Evans's voice was eerily calm. "It was worth it. As long as Daniel is happy, I'd do anything."

"And what if your husband and son find out?"

She fell silent for a moment, then instinctively touched the wedding ring on her hand. "Then they'll never know. They just want a family; I'll do everything I can to make up for it."

So the "changed woman" we thought we knew was just an act—a carefully built lie.

The happiness my son and I had begun to believe in was nothing more than a story she'd crafted to protect the person she really loved.

Every kindness, every effort—it had all been quietly weighed and paid for in advance.

In the office, Emma Evans carefully reviewed the report the doctor had handed her. At last, a heavy weight lifted from her chest.

"Teddy's eye is perfect. Now that Zion can be discharged, I can finally relax."

The doctor's anger simmered. He couldn't hold back.

"Emma! No matter how good Daniel is, he's not your husband. You risked taking Teddy's eye without consent—for Zion! If anyone found out, the entire hospital would be shut down. Was it really worth it?"

Emma's eyes went cold. She slammed the report onto the desk.

"That's enough. You have no say over what I do. Daniel has only Zion—how could I bear to watch him suffer? It's just an eye! It won't affect Teddy's life."

The doctor snapped, frustrated, "Emma, can you guarantee Leo and Teddy will never find out the truth? What if they learn that, for Daniel, you nearly killed them?"

Emma fell silent. Then, she pulled out her phone and gazed at the wallpaper—a happy family photo. Her eyes darkened, unreadable.

"They'll never know. I've hidden it perfectly. And…" She turned off the screen and spoke with absolute certainty. "Leo and Teddy love me."

I squeezed my son's hand tight. A cold, piercing chill ran through me.

I still remembered that day—the day my six-year-old son lay in the ICU bed, staring blankly at me.

"Daddy… where's my left eye? Why is it gone?"

I cried until my voice was hoarse, until my whole body shook, wishing I could die just to take away the pain.

I hated myself for taking my son away. I hated myself for failing to protect him. I hated myself for not being a good father.

But in truth, the one I should have hated most… was Emma.

My son clamped his hand over his mouth, unable to believe that the person who had taken his eye was his own mother.

Emma closed the report, her voice cheerful.

"Since Daniel and Zion are mostly recovered, it's time for them to return. Make the arrangements. And remember—Leo must never find out."

Footsteps approached. Panicked, I held Teddy close and tried to hide, but Emma noticed us anyway.

"Leo? Teddy? What are you doing here?"

Emma's voice faltered. She panicked, so tense that even her breathing seemed to freeze for a moment.

Teddy and I exchanged a glance, silently wiping away our tears.

I took a deep breath and turned, forcing calm into my voice.

"You'd been taking quite some time getting that report, so Teddy and I thought we'd come find you. We got a little lost on the way, almost went the wrong way," I said.

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, a faint smile threatening at her lips—until my next words froze her.

"What are you holding? Is that… our reports?"

I stepped forward, hand reaching for it, though my eyes never left her face.

Emma's gaze flickered, and she quickly hid the report behind her.

"Let… let's look at it at home. No rush."

I saw her lips pale from nervousness, and a trace of irony crossed my eyes. Withdrawing my hand, I turned and left with my son.

She froze for a moment before hurrying after us, scooping our son into her arms. Like before, her gestures were tender, careful, filled with affection.

But this time, my son didn't wrap his tiny arms around her neck. His body was stiff, his gaze vacant.

She didn't notice anything amiss, holding him all the way to the car. Only when checking the child seat did she speak, feigning casualness, "Honey, do you remember Daniel Carter? His son was sick for some time. Now the kid's better and ready to return home. They don't have any family in the country. Maybe they could stay at our place for a few days?"

She studied my expression carefully before adding, almost as an afterthought, "Of course, I'm just suggesting. If you and Teddy mind, we don't have to."

"I don't mind. Bring them home," I said.

Her surprise quickly turned into a smile. "Thank you, Honey. You're so good."

"To have married you… I'm the lucky one," I replied, without smiling, and turned to the backseat to hold Teddy. A single tear flashed past my eyes.

Back home, Emma immediately found an excuse to leave. I knew she was rushing to arrange Daniel's move.

I took the moment to talk to my son. I wanted to leave—far away from this disgusting house, far from Emma, forever if possible.

He didn't protest. He simply tore up the diary on his desk—the diary he had been keeping since the accident, every day with Emma and us.

[The first day of the accident, my eye was gone. I asked Dad where it went. He didn't answer. He just cried. Mom cried too. For the first time, she held me in her arms and promised to be my eyes from then on.]

[The third day—Mom came every day to care for me and Dad. She said she loved us so much and wanted to be our lifelong support. I told her I loved her too. She cried again.]

[The twenty-first day—I was discharged. Donny discovered my secret and teased me at preschool, calling me a cyclops. He said I was disgusting and refused to play with me again. I hid in the storage room and cried for a long time. But it didn't matter. Dad and Mom loved me.]

[The twenty-fifth day—The doctor gave me a toy eye. Mom said no one would laugh at me anymore. I showed Donny and told him I wasn't disgusting. He poked the toy eye with a pencil and called me a demon. My eye didn't hurt.]

Tears fell uncontrollably. I held my son close, heartbroken, sobbing.

"Teddy… Daddy's taking you away. Okay?"

He touched his cold, fake eye and nodded, eye red. "Okay."

I set the phone to a 24-hour countdown. I had to pack quickly. Every second left behind would only hurt my son more.

Countdown: 21 hours.

I took him to the kindergarten to process his withdrawal.

I was about to knock on the principal's office door when a familiar voice stopped me.

"Is… Zion feeling okay? Is his eye hurting?"

Daniel smiled, his eyes sparkling. "The doctor said Zion's recovered well, and his eye is comfortable now. Emma, really, thank you so much."

Emma said, a genuine smile tugging at her lips, "As long as it makes you happy, I'll do anything."

Daniel glanced at her, his tone layered with meaning. "And your husband? If he knew Zion's eye came from Teddy, wouldn't he be upset? Emma, I don't want to put you in a difficult position."

The familiarity of his voice made my stomach turn.

Daniel had always been like this—taking every advantage he could, then acting as if he were pure and innocent, making people scramble to please him.

Five years ago, on Teddy's one-month celebration, Daniel—whose birthday it wasn't—posted on social media that he was celebrating alone, just to steal Emma's attention.

She left the party, leaving Teddy and me, and spent the whole night with him.

I begged her to wait, to at least stay for the cake-cutting with our son, but she, worried about Daniel being lonely, handed our son to a waiter and told me not to make a fuss.

My eyes stung with unshed tears. I was about to leave when the tardy kindergarten principal arrived, pushing the door open past me.

Seeing Teddy and me, Emma's eyes flickered with panic.

"When did you get here? Why didn't you knock?"

Noticing my gaze fixed on Daniel, she hurried to explain.

"Honey, don't misunderstand. I only just found out that Daniel brought Zion back to the country. We happened to run into him, so we stopped by the kindergarten to register. You…"

"I understand," I interrupted, turning with Teddy.

Daniel, however, called after us with casual confidence, smiling brightly.

"Leo, long time no see."

He pulled the boy sitting nearby forward, introducing him to my son.

"Teddy, this is Zion. Say hi. You could be friends."

Zion leaned in, staring at Teddy's eye with disgust.

"Daddy… his eye is fake. Gross."

Teddy went pale and shrank behind me, ashamed. Rage coursed through me.

But Emma stepped in, positioning herself perfectly between Daniel and us, her voice strained yet composed.

"Honey, don't be upset. Zion didn't mean anything—he's just a child, he doesn't understand. As adults, we don't need to hold grudges against a kid, right?"

Every word defended the boy who had just insulted our son.

Teddy stared at her, disbelief written across his face.

Yesterday, Emma had lost her temper the instant someone mocked our son. Today, she openly protected the one who humiliated him.

Seeing this, the light in my son's eyes dimmed.

I had no patience left. I grabbed his hand and walked away.

Emma froze, staring at our retreating backs. Only after Daniel called four or five times did she finally regain her composure.

Countdown: nineteen hours.

That evening, I spoke with the kindergarten principal over the phone about Teddy's transfer. Teddy sat on the sofa, watching cartoons on his tablet.

Just as we were about to finalize the last step, the sound of the animation suddenly cut off.

Curious, I walked over and saw a new post from Daniel on the tablet.

The photo showed the two of them on a roller coaster—Daniel holding Emma, eyes shut, screaming with delight. His son, Zion, looked straight at the camera, flashing a confident peace sign with his bright eyes.

Before I could react, Teddy zoomed in on the photo.