chapter 3

A fleeting smile tugged at the corner of my mouth, too small for anyone to notice. A heartbeat later, my eyes brimmed with tears, and my hand trembled as I drew a folded sheet of paper from my bag.

I cried, “Dad, Mom, if I were unwilling to donate a kidney, I would never have taken the compatibility test. I have only just discovered I’m pregnant, so I wanted to check how Colin is doing. How could you accuse me of cheating?”

I turned toward the private investigator hiding in the corner with his camera, sobbing so hard I could barely breathe. “Sir, Madam, please judge for yourselves. I am carrying their grandchild, yet they smear me with filth and push me toward despair. If I die, two lives will be lost.”

The onlookers studied the ultrasound showing a twelve-week pregnancy and turned on Margaret with open indignation.

Someone scolded, “She is pregnant. How can you force her into surgery?”

Another added, “Exactly. I saw her racing to the lab this morning for the compatibility test.”

A third voice chimed in, “She and her husband get along fine. Even if you are worried about your son, you cannot brand her an adulteress.”

With the tide shifting, Margaret exploded. “Nonsense. She has been in our family for five years, and her belly has never stirred. That ultrasound is fake. She is selfish and refuses to give my son a kidney.”

Realizing how unreasonable she sounded, the crowd scattered when a nurse approached.

Tears poured down my face and my voice quivered.

“Dr. Mansfield from obstetrics examined me herself. She is the leading specialist here,” I said.

Margaret snapped, “So what if it’s real? Even if you are pregnant, you will abort it. Get over there and end it!” she snarled, seizing my arm.

Ignoring the pleas around them, my in-laws dragged me toward the hallway.

The person I hired recorded every second of their ugliness.

The nurse rushed in and shielded me. “Forcing an abortion against a pregnant woman’s wishes is a criminal offence.”

Fear flashed across George and Margaret’s faces, yet they still glared at me with hatred.

I lowered my gaze to my flat stomach. Thank goodness I was never carrying that sc*mbag Colin’s child.

In the first weeks of my marriage to Colin, Margaret hounded me each day, determined to turn me into a baby-making machine.

She would press a steaming mug into my hands and say, “Viv, I tracked down this secret remedy just for you. Drink it, and you will give birth to a healthy baby boy.”

My mother had bled to death bringing me into the world, so the thought of pregnancy filled me with quiet terror.

Yet, I could not bear to see Colin caught between his mother and me. I pinched my nose and swallowed that foul brew every single time.

A year ago, she decided something must be wrong with my body and ordered me to undergo a hospital exam.

Colin, worried I might get upset, had himself tested as well. The results proved he was the one who could not father children, but I kept the truth to spare his pride.

Because of my silence, Margaret remained convinced the fault was mine and treated me with colder disdain each passing month.

Now, that very same woman was ready to force me to abort the grandchild she longed for to protect Autumn.

Fragments of memory flashed across my mind.

How had I forgotten what I saw at the celebration in my previous life?

I had watched Colin cradle a toddler and murmur, “Come, Little Sam, play with Daddy.”

The boy looked no more than eighteen months old. Somewhere during the five years of our marriage, Colin had already been unfaithful.

But Colin was incapable of conceiving a child, which meant Autumn’s son belonged to someone else.

I had discovered something interesting. The truth would be delicious, but revealing it now would ruin the game.

While a nurse scolded my in-laws, I stooped, retrieved Margaret’s fallen phone, and composed a text to Autumn.

I typed, "Vivian, that b*tch, refused to sign. Bring the fake medical report at once!"

In my previous life, Autumn had never shown her face until after the operation.

Not this time. If the Sorrells were going to implode, they would do it together, in broad daylight.

Sure enough, the moment I stepped through the first-floor doors, Autumn hurried toward me.

She clamped both hands around my arm, her nails biting through my sleeve.

“This is Colin’s medical report,” she pleaded. “Vivian, Colin loves you so much. You can’t just watch him die.”

Margaret rushed up behind me, urging, “Autumn, talk some sense into her.”

Autumn shoved the folder almost against my nose and said, “Look at the diagnosis. The doctor calls it end-stage kidney failure. And here are the scans. Because his kidneys are shutting down, Colin’s stomach has already started to fuse. He can barely keep anything down. He lies there all day, vomiting, nauseous, half-conscious.”

I remained unmoved, so she continued, “The doctor says if we delay any longer, he could die at any moment. Can you bear to lose the man you love?”

Without missing a beat, Autumn shot Margaret a covert glance, a silent cue that spoke louder than words.

Margaret, fierce only a heartbeat earlier, blinked back sudden tears and squeezed my hand. “Viv, I was wrong just now. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I’m just terrified for Colin. He’s so ill that I’m scared he’ll die.”

George swiped at the tears sliding down his weathered cheeks.

“It’s true,” he choked out. “If you don’t give Colin a kidney, the boy has only a few days. Save him, and you’ll be the family’s greatest benefactor. We’ll worship you forever.”

In my previous life, they did worship me on the day of my funeral.

Autumn tightened her grip on my fingers. “If you keep delaying, Vivian, even with a transplant, Colin’s odds drop by the hour. The longer you wait, the lower the success rate.”

I studied the lab report, letting my voice drift into something almost reflective. “If that is the case...”

I paused, savoring the flash of smug relief in their eyes, and brushed away an imaginary tear. “Then we should discontinue treatment.”