Chapter 2

As soon as he walked in, he picked up Lily, then went to the kitchen to prepare medicine for me.

Ethan brought the brewed medicine to me, blowing on it repeatedly.

"This prescription is very effective. Drink it for three months, and you'll be able to speak."

He smiled and brushed my hair aside. I instinctively dodged.

A flash of alertness crossed the man's eyes, but his tone immediately softened.

"When you can speak again, the first thing you say should be 'Clara,' okay?"

I didn't move, disgusted to the point of numbness.

That night, Ethan held me and slept soundly.

While I stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep all night.

I thought back to eight years ago, when Ethan first took me to see a specialist. The consultation fee was $800.

He had just graduated then, with a salary of only $3,000.

His hands were shaking as he paid, but he told the doctor to treat me no matter the cost.

The day Lily was diagnosed with autism, I crouched on the ground crying silently.

He swore to me,

"Clara, don't be afraid. Lily has me, and you have me too. No matter what illness it is, I'll be with you both through the treatment."

From then on, he became the model father praised by all the teachers at the rehabilitation center.

I closed my eyes, replaying it all over and over, tears soaking through the pillow, feeling both unwilling and resentful.

The next day, while I was cleaning a guest room, I received a complaint from a guest saying the hallway was too noisy, with a child crying constantly.

A bad feeling came over me.

I rushed toward the end of the corridor.

It was Lily.

She was collapsed outside a door, her little face covered with tears and snot.

Screaming "Daddy" hoarsely, repeating it over and over, her clenched little fists red and purple from pounding on the door.

I felt struck by lightning. I rushed forward and pulled my daughter tightly into my arms.

A note lay scattered on the floor:

"Lily, be good. Daddy will come out soon."

When I saw the familiar handwriting, I instantly flew into a rage, wanting to rush in and skin him alive.

Intense splashing sounds came from inside the room.

A woman's delicate moans and gasps continued.

"Ah... gentle, the child is still outside."

"Who cares about that little idiot? What does she understand? Be good, lift your legs higher..."

A bone-chilling cold shot to the top of my head. I was shocked to the point of numbness.

Inside the door was endless pleasure.

Outside the door were a desperate, suffering mother and daughter.

I didn't pound on the door.

A mute's protest would only be a laughingstock to add to their pleasure.

I instinctively picked up Lily and ran home.

And sent Ethan a message:

"Come home immediately."

When the man came home, he smelled of body wash.

Sweating profusely, he picked up Lily and shouted anxiously,

"Lily, how did you run home by yourself?!"

He was still performing enthusiastically.

I reached out and handed him the divorce papers.

Ethan's expression showed great shock. He looked up sharply.

"Divorce?!"

He pressed me into his arms, his voice trembling with urgency.

"Clara, do you think you're burdening me again? I've told you so many times, no matter what, I will never abandon you and Lily!"

His words sounded righteous but were utterly ironic.

I pushed him away forcefully and slapped him across the face.

Ethan looked completely incredulous.

After a moment of silence, he stared at the compensation amount on the divorce agreement, then pulled out his phone.

$1.88 million, transferred instantly.

He grabbed my wrist tightly, his eyes reddening.

"Money--I'll give you however much you want. But we absolutely cannot divorce."

His phone screen lit up. Ethan frowned and hung up directly.

"Something at the company. I'll go handle it. You calm down."

Then he left without looking back.

I picked up my phone, edited a text, and sent it to Marcus.

"I've saved enough money. I want to buy that special medicine that can make me speak again."