When they saw me, the surprise on their faces quickly turned into annoyance and indifference.

They didn't have to pretend any longer.

Rhett said, "Since you've heard everything, I don't have to explain further."

His tone was casual, as if he were discussing the weather.

Emeline crouched down and straightened the boy's collar. Then she stood up, with her arms crossed. She looked down at me with a slightly contemptuous smile on her lips.

"Kristy, shouldn't you thank me? I'm helping you break free. Think about it. How do you continue your life, as you might get sick at any moment and carry the burden of possibly passing on a curse to the next generation?"

Each word she uttered pierced my heart like a poisoned needle.

The little boy tugged at Emeline's sleeve and asked timidly, "Mommy, who is this lady? Why is she crying?"

Emeline gently patted her son's head and said in a sick-sweet voice, "She has nothing to do with us, baby. Let's go. I will take you to your Lego class."

She took the boy's hand, and Rhett followed behind them. The family walked past me.

Rhett never looked back at me.

I seemed to be an inconvenient obstacle in their path or a speck of dust on their shoe.

The law firm's security soon came to me. They grabbed my arms from either side. "Miss, please leave. You're disrupting our work."

I was forcefully shoved out of the exclusive office building.

I stood on the bustling street and looked at my disheveled reflection in the glass facade. Suddenly, I laughed.

Then tears ran down my face.

Seven years of devotion, seven years of my youth—I worked tirelessly from dawn to dusk, funding his education, doing his laundry and cooking for him, and giving him all the best things I had.

I had thought I was his strongest pillar of support, the one he promised, "When I achieve great success, I will make you the happiest woman in the world."

But in fact, I was just a tool to be discarded after use, a convenient scapegoat for their affair, and a "country woman" beneath the pedestal of their happy life.

After my sadness, a chilling coldness rose from my feet, and it instantly froze my tears.

It was anger.

My anger was about to burn everything to ashes.

Did they think they could destroy me so easily?

Did they think I would live out my days in the shadows, burdened by the false accusations as they planned?

I wouldn't.

I absolutely wouldn't.

I wandered aimlessly on the streets for a long time until my legs felt like they were weighed down by concrete.

My phone had shut down for a long time due to a dead battery.

I was penniless and had no one to turn to in the city.

As night fell, the city's neon lights flickered on one by one, but none seemed to light up for me.

Just when I was about to lose all hope, I felt a crumpled card in my pocket.

A few years ago, I worked in a textile factory. The manager's wife, Wendy Lewis, gave me the business card back then.

She once fainted due to low blood sugar when she came to have an inspection in the factory. I noticed her situation, fed her some candy, and helped her to a ventilated area to rest.

She specifically came to show her gratitude to me afterward and gave me that business card. She told me that I could reach out to her if I ever faced difficulties.

I had thought it was just a polite gesture and stuffed the business card into my pocket without much thought. I had never imagined that it would become my lifeline one day.

I used a public phone on the street to dial the number.

The phone rang for a long time before it was answered, and I heard Wendy's warm voice. She sounded slightly puzzled. "Hello, who is that?"

"Hello, Wendy, it's me, Kristy Wright. I used to work at the factory..." My voice trembled with emotion.

Wendy paused for a moment and remembered who I was. "Oh! Kristy. I remember you now. Why are you calling me from such a number? Didn't you marry that doctoral student? How is everything going?"

Her words broke through my emotional defenses, and I choked up.

I briefly explained what happened to me. I told her how I divorced Rhett and was now homeless.

Wendy was silent on the other end for a long while, and then she exploded with anger.

"Rhett Mason! I always thought he was not a good guy and a real smooth talker, but I never imagined he'd be so despicable. Kristy, don't be afraid. Where are you right now? I'll come to pick you up immediately."

Half an hour later, Wendy found me and drove me to her home.

It was a place not spacious, but clean.

She brought me some warm dishes, and as she watched me devour them, her eyes turned red.

"Eat slowly, dear. Look at how much weight you've lost."

After eating something and taking a hot shower, I changed into the clean clothes Wendy offered me. I finally felt alive again.

I told her everything, including Emeline's betrayal, the fake medical report, and the boy.

Wendy was so angry that she pounded the table.

"This isn't just a divorce. It's fraud! As a lawyer, Emeline breaks the law. It's a scandalous betrayal of her profession. And Rhett used such cruel means to dump you. Isn't he afraid of karma?"

My eyes were red, and my voice was hoarse. "Wendy, what should I do? I have nothing now."

Wendy held my hand, and her gaze was firm.

"Who says you have nothing? You have your strength, your freedom, and your dignity. That's priceless. Didn't they say you have a family medical history? We'll first prove you don't have that. You said that the fake medical report was from your hometown clinic. Right? Let's go back to your hometown and start from the source. I don't believe such an elaborate lie has no cracks."

Her words were like a beacon, illuminating my dark world.

She was right. I couldn't just let go of Rhett and Emeline.

I had to peel away the disgrace they pinned on me with my own hands.

Wendy lent me some money, and I boarded the old-fashioned train back to my hometown early the next morning.

After a bumpy ride of over ten hours, I returned to the small town that felt both familiar and unfamiliar.

The local clinic still smelled of disinfectant, just like before.

The doctor, Ben Wheeler, who had usually treated me, was about to retire. He peered at me through his reading glasses and paused in surprise. "Aren't you... the girl from the Wright family who got into college, Kristy?"

"Yes, it's me." I handed over a photocopy of the medical record that had been used as "evidence" in court. "Dr. Wheeler, could you take a look? Was this record issued by your clinic?"

Ben adjusted his glasses and scrutinized it for a long while before shaking his head. "No. I didn't issue that."

My heart skipped a beat. "Is there anything wrong with it?"

"The signature here is a good imitation, but it's not my handwriting. And this seal." He pointed to the red stamp and continued, "We replaced this with a new one last year. This is the old stamp. But the date is from this year. It doesn't match. He took out a yellowed manila folder from the filing cabinet and said, "The most crucial part is your file. All your health check records since childhood are here. You're in excellent health, hardly ever catching a cold, let alone having any hereditary disease."

So the evidence was solid.

I was trembling with excitement. "Dr. Wheeler, could you help me issue a statement? And I want to make a copy of my real records. This is very important for me."

Seeing my eyes redden, Ben sighed. "Kristy, have you suffered injustice in the city?"

I told him the entire story.

He was furious after learning what had happened to me. "What a disgrace. Has all that education gone to waste? How could he be so malicious? Don't worry, I'll write that statement for you. Justice will prevail. We can't let the villainous go."

With Ben's handwritten statement and the real health records stamped with the new seal, I seemed to hold my weapon to fight back.

Back in the city, I handed the evidence to Wendy.

She immediately took me to meet an old lawyer she knew, Charles Blakely.

His hair was gray, but his eyes were sharp.

He carefully reviewed all the materials and then pondered for a moment.

"The evidence is solid. Emeline forged medical documents and presented false evidence. Her lawyer's license is as good as gone. We can file a formal complaint against her with the Bar Association. It will surely work. "As for your ex-husband," Charles looked at me and continued, "we can charge him with defamation and infringement of reputation. We will request the court review to annul your marriage and reevaluate the division of assets."

I shook my head. "Mr. Blakely, I don't care about the money. I just want to ruin him."

Mr. Blakely nodded approvingly. "I respect your dignity. But it won't suffice to ruin him. We need greater leverage."

He gazed at me and asked, "You supported him through seven years of his Ph.D. studies, so you must know him well. Think carefully. Is there anything else we can use against him?"

Anything else I could use against him?

I thought hard.

Rhett was extremely cautious and took great care of his reputation.

Suddenly, an idea struck me.

I remembered his doctoral dissertation.

During those years, he often complained about the pressure and lack of inspiration.

I stayed up with him for countless nights, organizing materials, copying his drafts, and even rewriting convoluted sections when he was stuck.

I practically completed the key experimental methods and data analysis parts of his dissertation after several all-nighters.

As a memento, I kept those notebooks filled with my handwriting.

I told Charles about that.

His eyes lit up instantly. "Plagiarism and fraud! This is fatal for him, who just earned his Ph.D. and is about to make a name in academia. Do you still have those materials?"

"I do," I said through clenched teeth. "When I was kicked out, I brought nothing else but instinctively packed those notebooks."

Perhaps even God was on my side.

Charles became excited. "Great! Then we'll attack on both fronts! Let's see how he handles the fall from grace."