Samson Carroll's father, who is the CEO of Carroll Group, is hospitalized, and my sister decides to return to the hospital to work as a nurse.

She throws herself into the role—donating blood, helping with emergencies, and keeping watch at his bedside around the clock. Soon, everyone's calling her a hero in scrubs.

One night, she blocks the hospital room's security camera. She plans to kill the patient and forge a will so that Samson will marry her.

I tell her it's too dangerous. The Carrolls are an influential family with deep pockets and powerful connections, after all. A few kind words and a forged will aren't enough to sway them.

But she lashes out at me, calling me an idiot. She says that everyone in Jansbury knows Samson does whatever his father tells him to do. I drag her home, still trying to talk sense into her.

"The Carroll family has ties to both the authorities and the underworld. They're untouchable," I explain. "If Samson finds out you lied to him, the consequences are unimaginable."

Halfway home, she grows increasingly agitated.

"Tonight was my only chance, and you ruined it! You're just jealous I'm about to become a rich man's wife! Go to hell!"

Then, in a fit of rage, she shoves me into an open manhole by the side of the road. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the night I brought her dinner at the hospital.

I stood silently outside the hospital room, watching until the heart monitor flatlined. The room fell still. Only Priscilla Jensen was inside, sitting at Albert Carroll's side.

She held his hand as she finished writing out his will, then removed his oxygen mask. Everything had been taken care of before he took his final breath.

A flash of excitement crossed Priscilla's face as she placed the document neatly on the bed. But the very next second, she broke into tears and called out for help.

"Something's wrong! Somebody get in here!" she yelled. In a flash, doctors and bodyguards rushed in from just a few feet away.

"Quick! Start CPR! Harder!" a doctor barked.

The machines roared to life, pounding at Albert's chest. Soon, the room erupted into chaos. Right then, Priscilla stepped forward.

"There's still a chance. Take my blood!" she cried out as a syringe was already being pushed into her arm.

She had been donating blood for days. Her face had gone ghostly pale, and her body was too weak to keep up. Thus, the needle drew barely anything.

The doctors told her they couldn't take any more, yet there was no alternative. Albert's blood type was rare, and Priscilla was the only match.

Just two days ago, it seemed like he was out of danger. But now, he had slipped back into a coma. In desperation, Priscilla grabbed five more syringes and plunged them into her own arm.

"Take more. Get more syringes!" she instructed. "His life comes first. I'm a nurse. I'll be fine."

Urgency tightened her features, and she showed no concern for her well-being. Everyone around her watched in alarm. Then, someone whispered, "Hang in there, Priscilla."

Sweat beaded across her forehead. She managed to give nearly a pint of blood before her body gave out. In the next moment, she collapsed.

Outside the room, a crowd gathered—reporters, doctors, and specialists whom Samson Carroll had flown in overnight from abroad.

Meanwhile, cameras flashed without pause as Priscilla lay unconscious in the room.

"Mr. Carroll, it was her. She gave everything to save your father. She hasn't woken up," someone reported to Samson.

"Was she the one with him at the end?" asked Samson.

The person replied, "Yes. Mr. Carroll Senior was especially fond of Ms. Jensen."

Something unreadable flickered in Samson's eyes at those words. Unfortunately, not even the best specialists could bring a man back from the dead. Albert was pronounced dead not long after.

The room filled with cries of grief, and news of his passing shook all of Jansbury.

At that moment, Priscilla's body trembled as she slowly came to. She tried to slip out quietly, pushing through the crowd.

She couldn't draw attention to herself. Only in silence would the Carrolls remember what she had done.

Still, she feigned weakness. Her steps were slow and unsteady, dragging one foot behind the other. Then, Samson's voice came from behind her. "Wait."

Priscilla waved him off, saying, "It's fine. Even if it took every drop of blood in me, I still would've done it."

Suddenly, an assistant took the will from the bed and handed it to Samson. However, he merely glanced at it once before tucking it away.

"Get someone to take Ms. Jensen back. Make sure nothing happens to her," he ordered.

None of Samson's assistants dared slack off once he gave the order. And just like that, a dozen people escorted Priscilla out of the hospital.

I was about to slip away when Samson's voice rang out, sharp with fury.

"Didn't they say my father was out of danger? Find out what's going on! I want every detail. And since Priscilla Jensen was the last one with him, dig up everything on her!"

Just like they said, Samson was impossible to cross. Priscilla had no idea what she was in for. There was no way she'd get what she wanted.

I had just unlocked my phone when a message from her came through.

She wrote, "If you say a word about this, you're dead. Once I marry into the Carroll family, you'll get your cut. Did you see how Samson looked at me? He's already starting to care."

Another text followed. "His parents are gone. From now on, I'll be the only family he has. And if his father wanted us to get married, he wouldn't dare refuse."

After hearing what Samson had said, all I wanted was to distance myself from her. However, I couldn't let her catch on.

So, I thought carefully before replying, "I didn't see a thing. But once you marry into that family, don't forget about me. Just get me a job that pays a few grand more."

Priscilla replied almost instantly with a condescending emoji. Then, she added, "That's all you want, huh? At least all my hard work over the past few days is finally paying off. I'm this close to living the good life as a rich man's wife."

I quickly shot back, "You really are the smart one."

I couldn't help but think about everything she had pulled off lately. She had quit a decent job just to return to nursing.

In the past, she'd complain nonstop about hospital work. She hated the sight of patients and couldn't stand anything even remotely dirty.

But recently, it was like she had transformed overnight. Suddenly, she was the perfect nurse, bringing bedpans and fetching water with a smile.

Priscilla was gentle and attentive. She practically lived at the hospital, constantly darting in and out of rooms. Before long, Albert had become completely dependent on her.

"Where's Pris?" he'd ask every few minutes. He even kicked out the bodyguards and caregivers, insisting that only Priscilla take care of him.

During that period, Samson came by a few times, and on each visit, he treated her with respect. Eventually, the way he looked at her softened, too.

By then, the entire Carroll family was utterly grateful to Priscilla, seeing her as a hero.

…

When I got home, my parents, Thomas Jensen and Fiona Lambert, had stayed at home.

The moment they saw me walk in alone, they stopped me at the door. As soon as I mentioned the Carrolls had taken Priscilla with them, they clapped their hands with glee.

"Oh, Tom. I can finally buy that jewelry set I've had my eye on—the one that costs over 100 thousand dollars!" my mom exclaimed. "I'd like to see if the neighbors will try and look down on us again now."

My dad beamed. "Ah, Fiona! I already put a deposit down on that Rolls-Royce. Once we're in-laws with that kind of money, no one's going to treat us like nobodies anymore!"

When I didn't react, my dad slapped me without hesitation.

"You're good for nothing," he spat. "At the end of the day, your sister's the one taking this family somewhere."

My mom couldn't stand the sight of me either and wasted no time adding fuel to the fire. "I always knew Priscilla would make something of herself, unlike this ungrateful brat."

Then, she ordered me, "Now get in the kitchen and cook something! You've been home long enough, and you haven't lifted a finger."

Resentment churned inside me as I headed to the kitchen. Behind me, my mom let out a satisfied sigh and remarked, "It's happening. Once he sees the will, he'll marry Priscilla."

Samson was the most devoted son of Jansbury's wealthiest man. Back when his father was alive, he wouldn't dare disobey a single word.

But now, Albert had passed away. Judging from Samson's reaction today, there was no way he'd blindly follow a will that came out of nowhere.

As I scrubbed a pan, I overheard my mom again.

"You're a genius," she told my dad. "Thank goodness you thought of putting that clause in the will. He can only inherit everything if he marries Priscilla. I'm sure that sealed the deal."

"Well, of course. I never make a move unless I'm sure it'll work. There's no way Samson would walk away from that inheritance. He'll marry Priscilla, even if it's just for the money."

A beat later, my mom squealed. "Look! A message from Priscilla!"

Then, she read it out loud. "Don't worry, Mom and Dad. Samson's treating me like a princess."

"Oh my goodness! We must be the luckiest family in town! We'd better say another prayer for her, just to be safe."

But all I could think was they'd better start praying Priscilla could make it out of this mess.

The moment Priscilla got home the next day, my mom rushed over and asked, "Well? Did he confess his feelings?"

"Calm down. Samson's a steady man. He'll take care of his father's funeral first, that's for sure," my dad said from the side, trying to sound wise.

But almost immediately, he rubbed his hands together and blurted, "Did you spend the night together?"

Priscilla set her bag down before answering, "I didn't see him at all yesterday, but his assistants were really nice. They asked me a bunch of questions. And after that, I don't remember much."

She paused, trying hard to recall.

"Well, I wandered through a cold garden at the Carroll residence and ended up falling asleep on the patio. By the time I woke up, I was already in the car."

Then, something unreadable gleamed in her eyes. She continued, "Samson probably didn't want me getting too tired, so he had them send me home to rest. Don't worry. He'll definitely call."

My mom, however, grew anxious and started pacing. "You need to think harder. What exactly happened? Come on. Let's do a test."

The two of them chattered away in the bedroom for a while. When they finally came out, my mom nodded at my dad and smiled.

In an instant, his eyes lit up. "So it did happen? If she ends up pregnant, that would be perfect! Fiona, take her to the hospital for a test now!"

My mom grinned from ear to ear as she said, "Don't be silly! Even if she's pregnant, it's way too early to tell. We've got to wait a few more days."

"Oh, right! I'm so excited to the point I'm not thinking straight. Please, let her be pregnant."

With that, my dad rushed out to the yard and got down on his knees to pray. Meanwhile, Priscilla looked a little shy as she remarked, "Once I have his baby, I'll be Mrs. Carroll for real."

"Now that's what I call good news!" my mom declared.

Then, she turned to me with a glare. "What are you standing around for? Go make some eggs for your sister. She needs double the nutrients now!"

I didn't move an inch. Instead, I stared at this absurd family in disbelief. Upon seeing that, my dad stormed over and slapped me twice.

"Are you deaf? Go on!" he snapped.

Right then, Pricilla's phone chimed. She practically jumped to her feet and shot me a smug look. "It's a text from Samson."

My parents rushed over to look.

His message read, "You're not getting away. I'll come find you once my father's funeral is over."

Priscilla immediately switched to a syrupy voice and recorded a reply. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll wait for you."

A glow spread across her face after sending it.

"See? He's worried I'll disappear. I told you! He's more eager than I am!"

My mom clapped her hands hard. "It's a done deal! If you're carrying his child, it's locked in. Now, we just wait for him to come and ask for your hand."

"I knew it," she added. "With your looks and figure, how could he not fall for you? Look how fast it happened. He couldn't wait to sleep with you!"

My dad chimed in, "Exactly. He's in a rush to marry her. He's probably terrified she'll bolt."

While the two of them kept whispering gleefully, Priscilla stripped off her clothes, threw them at me, and ordered, "Wash these. Delilah Jensen, treat me well, and maybe you won't have to keep being the family maid."

Out of nowhere, my dad grabbed the ashtray and slammed it onto my head, sending ashes down my face.

"From now on, when Priscilla tells you to do something, you do it. Understood?"

I quietly picked up Priscilla's clothes, planning to take them for testing. Finally, I spoke. "Mom, Dad, I'm out of money. Can you lend me a little—"

Before I could finish, my dad barked, "You piss me off just by standing there. Get lost! I don't have a daughter like you. Don't come back here just to embarrass us."

"But when you bought this house, I lent you 200 thousand dollars. Can you pay me back?" I asked again.

My words hit a nerve. Without a second thought, my dad raised a hand and struck me hard across the back.

"You ungrateful brat! I've spent so much raising you all these years, and now you want to nickel-and-dime me? Don't expect a cent when your sister marries into money!"

Still, I didn't get angry. I simply rubbed my arm and said, "Then, let's settle it right now. Either give me back my money or cut me off from this family. Pick one."

I had barely finished speaking when a folder came flying at my face. Inside was a letter stating they were officially disowning me.

I was overjoyed. That same night, I cut ties with them for good and walked away, ignoring every insult they screamed behind me.