Chapter 1

I was rushed to the ER with excruciating abdominal pain.

The diagnosis: appendicitis.

The doctor was typing up my prescription when his hand suddenly froze.

He looked up at me.

"Why would you have an IUD inserted when you haven't even had a child yet?"

An IUD?

That was impossible.

I had an infertile constitution.

I'd spent hundreds of thousands trying to conceive, enduring treatment after treatment.

"Doctor, are you sure you're reading that right?"

The doctor turned the monitor toward me, tapping his pen on the shadow on the screen.

"Look right here. How could you forget your own procedure?"

I stared at the screen, my fingertips trembling uncontrollably.

For seven years, my mother-in-law had blamed me for being unable to have children.

I'd endured endless humiliation.

But looking at that IUD that should never have been there...

Turns out I wasn't infertile.

Someone just never wanted me to get pregnant!

Staring at the shadow on the screen, my hand instinctively pressed against my lower abdomen.

Seven years ago, when we were trying to conceive after marriage, I was diagnosed not only with an infertile constitution but also with small cysts.

I'd looked at Harrison in panic then. He'd quietly comforted me.

"Honey, don't be scared. We'll remove the cysts first. I'll be with you every step of the way."

Over the next seven years, Harrison accompanied me to that hospital countless times.

Snapping back to reality, I asked the doctor to remove the IUD during my surgery.

After the procedure, I was lying in the hospital bed when Harrison called.

"Honey, where are you? Why haven't you been answering your phone?"

"I'm at the hospital. I just had surgery."

I said quietly. Panic filled his voice on the other end.

"The hospital? Which hospital?"

Seeming to realize his overreaction, he changed his tone.

"Honey, what surgery? Are you not feeling well?"

I couldn't quite describe what I was feeling. I answered briefly and hung up.

Soon, the hospital room door swung open. Harrison rushed in.

"You had appendicitis surgery? Why didn't you go to the hospital where my uncle works? He could have looked after you."

He was talking while carefully observing my expression.

I clutched the copper IUD in my hand, careful not to show anything unusual, and smiled at him.

"It hurt too much. This hospital was closer."

My mother-in-law pushed through the door just then. Hearing my words, she immediately scolded loudly.

"How much could appendicitis hurt? Can't even handle that. How will you handle childbirth later?"

"Oh wait, we don't even know if you can have children."

"Mom, say less. Anna just had surgery. She's not feeling well."

Harrison poured me a glass of water. After confirming I hadn't discovered the IUD placement, he hurried to leave again.

"Honey, the company's been struggling lately. I need to get back to work. Mom will stay here to take care of you."

I nodded, watching his figure disappear behind the door.

"I don't have time to serve a barren hen like you."

My mother-in-law said mockingly before leaving as well.

The hospital room fell quiet again. I let out a soft sigh.

Three days later, I was discharged.

During those three days, Harrison and my mother-in-law visited only a handful of times. It was the nurses who occasionally helped me out of pity.

I didn't go home. Instead, I went to the hospital where Harrison's uncle worked—the hospital where I'd had my cyst surgery.

After confirming his uncle was off today, I went to the medical records department.

Soon, a nurse pulled up my file.

I flipped through it page by page.

Seven years of spending hundreds of thousands on medical tests, medications, and IVF treatments.

Yet all that showed here were a few simple routine checkup reports.

Flipping to the very first page, the record showed not a cyst removal surgery but a sterilization procedure!

My hands shook uncontrollably. How ironic.

Seven years of torment, seven years of guilt—all because someone had deliberately robbed me of my right to be a mother.

I forced a bitter smile, but tears still fell.

After a long moment, I wiped my tears and took out my phone to save the evidence.

Then I suddenly noticed the family consent signature page was missing.

I didn't alert the hospital staff. I closed the file, thanked them, and left.

Walking out of the hospital, I immediately called my classmate, Victor.

After explaining the situation, he readily agreed and told me to wait.

Soon, he called back.

"Anna, I sent you the missing page on SnapChat."

"Thanks so much."

He paused before continuing.

"Your husband deleted the records too thoroughly. Out of curiosity, I checked using his information."

"I found something. I sent it to you too. You..."

"You need to prepare yourself mentally. Anna, if you need anything, you can always reach out to me."

"Okay..."