Chapter 2

When I woke up, I found myself lying in a hospital bed.

I stepped out of the room and immediately saw Ryan in the hospital room across from mine.

"Ryan, thank you for performing my surgery," said Mia, the little girl lying on the bed.

"Mia, from now on, call Ryan your godfather," her mother, Sophia, said with a smile.

"Godfather!" Mia called sweetly.

"Good girl." Ryan gently patted her forehead. "Get some rest and recover well."

I couldn't hold back anymore. "Her surgery is done. Can you come home with me now?"

"Ryan, stay a few more days, please. If anything happens to my daughter, I'll feel much more at ease knowing you're here," Sophia said, clutching his hand tightly.

A nearby nurse muttered under her breath, "Relax, there won't be any complications. It was just meningitis, not some major surgery. Our doctors could've handled it just fine, but no, you insisted on bringing in a big-shot specialist."

I snapped. "Ryan, her daughter's surgery is over. Do you really need to stay? Are you going to wait until our daughter dies before you regret this?!"

Sophia scoffed. "I've never seen a mother like you. Fighting over a man while cursing your own daughter's life."

"This is a hospital. Keep your voice down. Go home. I'll be back in a few days," Ryan said coldly, his indifference cutting through me like a knife.

Just then, my daughter's doctor called.

"Lena, please come to the hospital immediately. Your daughter… she doesn't have much time left."

My heart stopped. I put the call on speaker so Ryan could hear.

The doctor explained the situation, but Sophia sneered. "Wow, you even hired an actor for this?"

Ryan's face darkened. "Lena, if you're going to put on a show, at least make it believable. I'm done with this. Get out. I don't want to see you."

Rage and despair boiled over inside me. "Ryan, remember this, our daughter died because of you!"

I bolted out of the hospital, jumped into my car, and sped toward my daughter's hospital.

By the time I arrived, it was too late.

She was already in the morgue.

I didn't even get to see her one last time.

Holding my daughter's cold, lifeless body, I screamed until my throat was raw, the grief tearing me apart piece by piece.

I buried my daughter alone.

Even as I cradled her urn, I couldn't accept that she was truly gone.

Just days ago, when her exam results came out, she had called me, bursting with excitement. "Mom! I scored 1580 points on my SATs!"

Now, she was gone.

My sweet, smart, and loving daughter. Her life had barely begun.

I locked myself in her room, running my fingers over her things, drowning in sorrow.

Three days later, my phone rang.

It was Ryan.

"Lena, my mom's throwing an acceptance banquet for Keira back home. Make sure you and our daughter get there early tomorrow."

I clutched my daughter's urn to my chest, my fingers tightening around it, my voice trembling with cold hatred.

"Got it."