"But so what? You lost a baby, while I haven't lost anything. Luke still protects me and loves me.

"Did you know that when the accident happened, the first person Luke ran to was me? He held me and said, 'Ruby, don't be scared.' Yet he didn't even once look at you."

My hands, hidden under the blanket, clenched into tight fists.

"You must really want to kill me right now. But too bad—you just took your medicine."

As she spoke, she pulled out a long, thin needle from her pocket.

"Do you think it'll hurt if I stick this into your hand?"

She grabbed my wrist with a smile and drove the needle deep into the back of my hand.

A sharp pain shot through me, and my eyes flew open. I stared at her coldly, as if she were already dead.

I startled her so badly that she froze, completely dazed.

In that split second, I summoned every ounce of strength left in me and slapped her hard across the face.

Ruby was shell-shocked. She stumbled back several steps, clutching her cheek and staring at me in disbelief.

"You're actually awake? And how dare you hit me?"

Just then, the hospital room door burst open, and Luke rushed in. The moment he saw what was happening, his expression changed. At the same time, he pulled Ruby into his arms protectively.

"Cynthia, what are you doing?"

Ruby burst into tears, looking utterly heartbroken.

"Luke, I'm so scared. Cynthia hit me," she said through sobs.

"It's okay. I'm here now," Luke murmured soothingly to her, but his gaze toward me turned colder by the second.

I looked at the back of my hand, where the needle had pierced through, and suddenly felt an eerie calm wash over me.

"Luke, take a good look—I'm your wife, and I just lost our baby. So, I'm the one who needs protecting the most," I stated the facts calmly.

He seemed to be caught off guard by my words, for his expression flickered with guilt and unease.

But Ruby, who was still nestled in his arms, only wept harder.

"Luke, I'm sorry. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have come to see Cynthia. I was just worried about her."

Her act of innocence made whatever guilt Luke had just felt vanish in an instant.

He turned to look at me with a frown. "Cynthia, Ruby just came to see you out of kindness. Why do you have to be so aggressive?"

I trembled with rage at the self-righteous look on his face.

But I knew there was no reasoning with this man anymore.

I pointed at Ruby and said coldly, "Get her out."

Ruby bit her lip pitifully, her eyes glistening as she looked at Luke.

"Luke…"

He patted her back gently and said, "Why don't you head out first?"

Ruby glared at me resentfully, looking back with every step as she walked away. Soon, only Luke and I were left in the room.

He turned to face me, exhaustion and helplessness written all over him.

"Cynthia, can you please stop being so difficult?"

It was that same line again. In his eyes, all my pain and despair were just me being difficult.

"Luke, I'll say it one more time—I want a divorce."

"It's never going to happen." His refusal was absolute. "I'm not divorcing you."

"Why?"

"Because I love you," he replied.

I laughed.

"You love me? Is loving me cheating on me during my pregnancy? Or defending that murderer after I lost my baby? Or locking me up here and controlling me with sleeping pills?"

With every word I spoke, Luke's face turned a shade paler.

Not wanting to drag this out any longer, I lay back down. I needed to recover my strength so that I could leave this mess behind.

Seeing that I'd fallen silent, Luke seemed to relax a little. He came over and straightened the blanket around me.

"Cynthia, just rest well. Once you're better, we'll go home and forget all this, okay?"

I closed my eyes and didn't answer.

In the days that followed, I stopped resisting and asking for a divorce. Luke thought I'd finally given in, so he let his guard down.

The day I was discharged from the hospital, I froze the moment I got home.

The watercolor painting that had always hung on the wall by the entrance—My father, Owen Roth, had drawn it for me before he died—was gone.

"Where's the painting?" I asked in a trembling voice.

Luke's eyes flickered away.

"Oh, that… A few days ago, an important client came by. He really liked it, so I lent it to him for a while."

"Which client?"

"Why do you need to know? He'll return it in a few days," he retorted impatiently.

Just then, his phone rang.

He glanced at the caller ID, his expression shifting, and stepped out onto the balcony to take the call.

I followed him. Standing behind the door, I clearly heard him say in a lowered voice, "Ruby, didn't I tell you not to contact me for a few days?"

"What? The painting got stained? How?"

"Alright, alright, don't cry. It's just a picture. If it's ruined, it's ruined. I'll figure something out. Don't overthink it. Just focus on getting better."

My mind went blank, a deafening buzz drowning out everything.

After hanging up, Luke turned and immediately met my cold, despair-filled eyes. He nearly jumped out of his skin.

"C-Cynthia, you heard all that?"

Instead of answering, I simply turned and stormed into the kitchen.

When I came back out, there was a knife in my hand. The moment Luke saw it, his face went pale.

"Cynthia, calm down! What are you doing?"

He stumbled backward in fright, widening the distance between us.

I said nothing. Instead, I just took one step after another, drawing closer to him with the knife in my hand.

One thought consumed me. "Kill him, then Ruby."

Just as I was within striking distance, the doorbell rang. Its shrill sound pulled me back from the edge of madness.

Seizing the opportunity, Luke dashed over to open the door.

Standing at the entrance was Ruby. She was carrying a framed piece, wearing that fake apologetic look on her face.

"Luke, I'm so sorry. I brought the painting back. I didn't mean to stain it."

Her eyes shifted, and then she saw the knife in my hand and Luke's pale face.

Her expression instantly twisted in terror.

"Cynthia, you—"

Before she could finish, I'd already lunged forward.

Luke seized the moment while my focus was on Ruby and snatched the knife from my hand.

Seeing the madness in my eyes, Ruby stumbled backward and fell to the floor. The frame slipped from her grasp and shattered on the ground.

I looked down. A large, glaring coffee stain had seeped into the paper like an ugly scar. That serene, graceful landscape was ruined beyond recognition.

I couldn't hold back any longer. I grabbed the porcelain vase from the entryway cabinet and hurled it at Ruby's head.

Ruby shrieked, blood instantly streaming down her forehead.

Luke shoved me aside and rushed over to embrace Ruby.

"Ruby, are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Trembling in his arms, Ruby pointed at me and said, her voice trembling with fear, "L-Luke, I-I'm bleeding. Cynthia tried to kill me."

"Don't be scared. I'll take you to the hospital."

Luke anxiously lifted Ruby in his arms and turned to leave.

"Luke," I called out.

He stopped and looked back, his eyes blazing with rage.

"Cynthia, you've really disappointed me. How did you turn into this crazy, hysterical woman?"

I ignored his accusations and just looked at him calmly.

"Let's get a divorce."

This time, my voice carried nothing but stillness.

He froze, as if it hadn't occurred to him that even now, I would still be asking for a divorce.

"What are you making a scene about now?" he snapped irritably. "Ruby's bleeding, so can't you just drop it?"

"I'm not making a scene." I pulled out the divorce agreement from my pocket and tossed it at his feet. "Sign it. I don't want the house, the car, or anything else. I just want the two of you to get out of my life!"

Luke looked down at the papers, then back at me, his expression complicated.

But Ruby clung to him like a lifeline.

"Luke, please take me to the hospital now. I feel so dizzy," she murmured weakly.

Luke snapped back to reality. Without another glance at me, he rushed out the door with Ruby in his arms.

The door slammed shut. At last, the world was quiet.

I slowly crouched down and picked up the ruined drawing from the floor. As I traced the ugly coffee stain with my finger, I finally let myself cry.

"Dad, I'm sorry," I blubbered.

I cried for a long time, until there were no tears left and my eyes felt dry and raw.

I stood up and wiped the tears from my face. Without hesitating any longer, I went back to my bedroom. Once there, I took out my suitcase and started packing.

I didn't have much, so it didn't take long.

After that, I took out my phone and turned it on. A flood of missed calls and messages poured in from my friends and family.

One by one, I told them I was okay.

Then, I found the folder I'd prepared long ago. Inside was every piece of evidence I'd gathered since the fish stew incident.

There were chat logs between Luke and Ruby, hotel records, and photos of their trips together. Other than that, there were also documents proving Luke had abused his position to help Ruby's career.

He thought he'd covered his tracks perfectly, but little did he know that I'd taken an elective in information security in college.

Those encrypted files on his computer? They might as well have been unlocked.

I packaged everything and anonymously sent it to every senior executive at his company, along with the disciplinary committee's tip-off line.

When that was done, I blocked Luke on every platform. Then, I booked a ticket south to my mother's hometown, a small city where spring never ended.

As the plane took off, I watched the city below grow smaller and smaller, and a quiet sense of release settled over me.

I thought to myself, "Goodbye, Luke. Goodbye, Ruby. I hope I never see you two again."