Chapter 1

Lucy and my husband’s first love were both diagnosed with cancer.

As the surgery approached, my husband emptied our savings to pay for her treatment.

Meanwhile, my daughter had to endure the pain without any help.

He told me to be generous, reminding me that the living always take priority over the dead.

But what he didn’t know was that his first love was faking it, and my daughter... she wasn’t coming back.

“Mom, please don’t cry.”

“Lulu doesn’t hurt, Lulu is fine.”

Lucy's pale face still managed to produce a smile, her little hand reaching up to wipe away the tears from my eyes.

At the entrance of the operating room, filled with the stinging scent of antiseptics, Lucy’s arm was hooked up to several IV bags as she leaned weakly against me.

“Be good, Lulu, Dad will be here any minute.”

“We’ll get the surgery done soon, I promise.”

Ding! My phone buzzed with a notification of a withdrawal.

Lucy's condition had suddenly deteriorated. Dr. Johnson had said the surgery couldn’t wait any longer; it had to be tonight.

The surgery was expensive, and we didn’t have enough money.

So I rushed Lucy to the hospital to get her registered, while Simon took my card to the bank to withdraw every penny we had.

As Lucy’s clothes became soaked with cold sweat, Simon finally appeared on the hospital’s lobby monitor.

I felt a surge of relief.

The bank wasn’t that close to the hospital, and rush hour traffic was terrible.

For Simon to make it back this quickly, I felt my eyes sting with tears.

After all, he never seemed to care much for us.

In situations like these, every second mattered; the sooner the surgery, the better Lucy's chances of survival.

Simon quickly finished paying and rushed toward the operating room, his face full of tension.

“Daddy!”

At the end of the hallway, Lucy’s eyes lit up with a brief glimmer of hope, her small hand trembling as she reached out for him.

“Who’s scheduled for the surgery?”

I held Lucy, ready to take the papers from Simon’s hand.

Her little fingers barely touched his shirt when a gust of wind seemed to sweep him away.

He walked right past us.

“It’s her, doctor. It’s Becca.”

Out of breath, he rushed to Rebecca Whitman.

“Simon, it hurts…”

Rebecca, nestled in his arms, bit her lip, her eyes welling up with tears, as delicate as an innocent little flower.

Simon held her, murmuring reassurances, looking like he was in agony himself.

I knew who she was—Simon’s first love.

“Doctor, this must be a mistake. The surgery is for Lucy Ericson.”

My heart skipped a beat, but I forced myself to speak as calmly as I could.

The doctor checked the paperwork several times.

“There’s no mistake, it’s for Rebecca Whitman.”

From where Simon couldn’t see, Rebecca shot me a malicious glare. Her flushed cheeks made it clear she wasn’t suffering from any illness at all.

With the surgery ready to begin, the doctor cleared the area.

“Alright, only the patient and their family members should stay. Everyone else, please leave.”