The surgery lasted ten hours.

Today marked the second day of my disappearance.

My mother, unable to reach me, finally called Allen's phone. He didn't even glance at the screen before pressing decline.

Unwilling to give up, she sent him a message, pleading for any news of my whereabouts. He didn't reply. His gaze remained fixed on the operating room doors, unblinking.

His assistant arrived at the hospital, carrying a stack of contracts and agreements that needed his signature. In the midst of handing over the documents, his peripheral vision caught something on a medical report.

He hesitated.

"Mr. Jones, is Madam sick? I noticed her name on the hospital records. You two have been separated for three days—maybe you should give her a call?"

Allen signed the papers without looking up. He was still angry.

"Don't mention her to me. She values her life too much. Just had a full-body checkup a few days ago—what could possibly be wrong with her? She called earlier just to stir up trouble. If I don't teach her a lesson, she'll never learn.

"She knows better than anyone that I hate being lied to, yet she still jokes about her health. Does she think cancer is something to play around with? One day, if something really happens to her, how would I even know if she's telling the truth?"

The assistant wiped his forehead, troubled. He hesitated, then spoke carefully.

"But Miss Darby's illness isn't Madam's fault. She didn't even know about your relationship. It's only natural she misunderstood. As husband and wife, if misunderstandings aren't cleared up, they'll only cause more problems later."

He hesitated again, lowering his voice.

"Madam isn't someone who speaks recklessly. Since her name is on the hospital records, wouldn't it be best to check, just in case?"

Allen's expression darkened. His gaze drifted back to the glowing light above the operating room.

"I told you not to meddle. Bring this up again, and you can hand in your resignation."

The assistant lowered his head and quickly left, arms full of documents.

Allen canceled all his meetings and sat in the corridor, waiting. Another ten hours passed in silence.

Then, the light above the operating room flickered off.

At the same time, I took my last breath in the operating room next to Sadie’s.

My soul drifted aimlessly through the hospital corridors, weightless, unanchored. I watched as Allen sat there, his face pale, his expression drawn tight with worry. My broken heart sank even deeper.

The doors swung open, and Sadie was wheeled out, still weak from surgery.

Allen rushed forward, gripping the side of her bed.

"How are you feeling?" His voice was laced with concern. "Does it hurt?"

Sadie smiled faintly. The anesthesia was wearing off. She shook her head.

Allen exhaled, relieved. He turned to the doctor.

"The patient who donated her heart—where is she? I want to see her. She's a benefactor to my family. I'll handle her funeral arrangements and prepare five million for her family."

Before the doctor could speak, Sadie grasped his wrist.

"Allen, it hurts…"

Her voice was soft and fragile.

"Can you stay with me?"

Allen forgot everything else. He helped the nurses push her to her room. As he walked alongside the bed, he kept pressing the staff for pain relief options.

"No matter the cost, give her whatever will ease the pain."

A nurse, clearly exasperated, finally spoke up. "Mr. Jones, the doctor did an excellent job. Extra medication isn't necessary. Side effects could slow her recovery."

Only then did he relent.

He stepped into Sadie's room. Before the door even closed behind him, my mother arrived at the hospital, tears streaking her face.

Spotting him, she broke down completely.

"Allen, where is my daughter? She never ignores my messages. Something must have happened. She's your wife. How can you be so heartless?"

Her fingers clutched her phone, the screen filled with unread messages, desperate pleas left unanswered for two days.

Allen frowned, glancing toward Sadie's room. His patience was fraying.

"Who told you to come here? If your daughter is missing, find her yourself. Why are you asking me?"

His tone was cold, indifferent.

"She left on her own. Do you think she'd tell me where she went? She even lied to me about her health. Do you think someone like that would ever tell the truth?

"I should be asking you—how did you raise her to be like this? And now you dare come here, making a scene? Did Mia send you to put on this little performance? Tell her this—there's nothing to discuss. If she refuses to apologize, she can forget about ever stepping foot in the Jones family home again."

My mother stood frozen in place, her tears falling harder and faster.

"Mia has been married to you for five years, and now she's gone without a trace. If I don't ask you, who else should I ask?" Her voice trembled with rage. "Mia never lies! She must have found out about your affair. The woman lying in that ward—that's your mistress, isn't it? Mia didn't run away. You drove her away, time after time, until she couldn't take it anymore."

Her accusations echoed through the hospital corridor. "Love whoever you want, but at least let my daughter go. What did she do wrong? Why should she bear the blame for you and that woman?" Her voice broke, and the anger melted into helpless sorrow.

I stood beside her, my vision blurred with tears. I wanted to reach out and wipe the tears from her face, but no matter how much I tried, my hands passed through her like air.

Her cries grew louder, each word heavy with grief. When her strength failed, she collapsed to her knees, pleading with everything she had left.

Allen lost his patience. He called security and had her thrown out of the hospital.

Back in the hospital room, he smashed the cup on the table. The veins on his neck stood out as he pulled out his phone and sent me a voice message.

"Mia, is it not enough for you to stir up trouble alone? Now you have to drag your mother into this too?" His voice was cold. "I told you already, Sadie is like a sister to me. She's had a heart condition since birth, and it just so happens that my hospital specializes in cardiology. That's all there is to it. What exactly are you trying to prove?

"When will you admit you're wrong? When will you stop lying? What happened to you? You used to be better than this. I'm beyond disappointed."

Without waiting for a reply, he blocked my number.

His words cut through me like shards of glass, each one lodging deeper in my heart. My chest ached with a pain so heavy, I could hardly breathe. I was right there, in his hospital, lying on a surgical bed.

If he had only checked, the truth would have been obvious. But he didn't bother. He didn't care enough to find out.

A helplessness spread through me, cold and unyielding. I slid down against the wall, curling my arms around my head as if that could shield me from the pain.

Outside, a nurse rushed past, preparing to handle my body. Sadie gasped softly from her bed, and Allen pulled her into his arms, fear flashing through his eyes.

"What is it? Are you in pain?" His voice shook as he turned to glare at the nurse.

The nurse hesitated. "I'm here to take care of a patient's remains," she explained quickly.

His face darkened. "Leave it. Find someone else to do it. You focus on her."

And so, my body lay forgotten on the surgical table, abandoned by the one person who should have cared the most.

Sadie's condition wasn't serious, but Allen still insisted on a full-body examination. When it was over, an express delivery arrived at his company. His assistant brought it to the hospital.

It had my name on it.

He just glanced at the documents before his face fell. Inside were my medical records and a pregnancy report—a package I had sent before I was taken. Without a second thought, he threw the documents at his assistant, his anger hardly contained.

"Did Mia send you? Where did she fake these?" His voice was sharp with fury. "So, she realized lying won't work and decided to forge medical records instead? Does she think I'll believe her now?

"Tell her it's useless. It's just a few old photos—hardly worth this ridiculous scene. If she wants to talk, she can come to me herself. Until Sadie is out of danger, I'm not leaving this hospital."

The assistant held the papers, his forehead damp with cold sweat. The hospital stamp was real. Every document was authentic. But Allen, too angry to see the truth, refused to believe it. With no other choice, the assistant slipped away to search the hospital system for any trace of me.

That night, while Allen was feeding Sadie soup, his phone buzzed with a message from his assistant.

It was my hospital room number.

I held my breath. If he went to check, everything would be clear. He would know I wasn't lying.

But he didn't. Without a second glance, he deleted the message.

"Drama queen," he muttered under his breath.

Disappointment had piled up for too long, leaving my heart numb. All that remained was bitterness.

I sat quietly in the corner, watching him care for Sadie with careful tenderness.

So, this was the "sister" he spoke of. The "friend" he insisted she was.

'Allen, after telling a lie often enough, you start to believe it yourself.'

At dawn, he stepped out of her hospital room.

I followed.

At the corner, his footsteps faltered. I lifted my gaze—it was the room I had stayed in before the surgery.

He pushed the door open just a crack and called inside. "Mia?"

His voice grew impatient, but no one answered.

Anger flickered in his eyes. He kicked the door wide open and strode inside, only to find an empty bed.

Without a backward glance, he left. The door slammed shut behind him with a violent echo.

On the way back, he pulled out his phone and removed my number from the blocked list.

His voice dripped with rage. "Mia, if you keep wasting hospital resources, don't blame me for cutting ties. It's the middle of the night—why aren't you in your room? Is this what you call being sick?

"I'll say this one last time. Discharge yourself today and get out. Do you know how many people beg for a hospital bed? I'll give you a day. If you don't leave, don't ever come back."

But this time, I really couldn't come back.

The moment his message was sent, my phone buzzed softly on the pillow beside me. No one would ever pick it up again.

Allen returned to Sadie's room, head lowered as he texted his assistant. [I checked Mia's room. She's not there. You've been fooled. Don't bother with her anymore.]

He didn't spare me another thought.

Instead, he logged into his account and ordered the latest limited-edition jewelry and designer dresses for Sadie.

The next day, at the company shareholders' meeting, his presence was required.

When he returned to the hospital, chaos awaited him.

My mother lay crumpled on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. Across from her, Sadie had also fallen, her face pale with shock.

"You vixen! Give me back my daughter!" My mother's cries echoed through the corridor.

Allen didn't glance at her. His focus was entirely on Sadie as he rushed to lift her back onto the bed.

The movement tore at her stitched wound, and blood seeped through the bandages. Still, she spoke softly, as if it were nothing at all.

"Allen, don't blame her. She didn't mean to push me. I'm fine. It's not her fault."

Her voice trembled with kindness. "It must be Mia. She's probably still angry and sent her mom here to confront you. Don't fight because of me, please. Go to her. Don't let her be upset."

She spoke on my behalf. On my mother's behalf. But every word pushed me deeper into the abyss.

I had seen everything. Every blow she dealt my mother. Every cruel act hidden behind her weak facade.

My hands trembled with fury, but no one could hear me.

Allen believed her completely.

Unable to bear it, my mother rushed forward and slapped Sadie across the face.

Before she could react, Sadie shrank into Allen's arms, trembling like a fragile rabbit. The sight ignited his rage.

Without hesitation, he kicked my mother squarely in the chest, his voice sharp with fury.

"Out of respect for Mia, I'm letting you off easy. Now kneel and apologize to Sadie."

My mother refused to bow her head.

Allen's patience snapped. He pressed her shoulders down and drove his knee into the back of her legs. With a heavy thud, she collapsed to the floor.

I reached out, desperate to hold her up, but no matter how hard I tried, my hands passed through her trembling body.

He wrapped his fingers around her neck, forcing her to bow again and again. Each dull thud against the cold floor echoed in my ears, pounding against my heart.

I lost count of how many times.

Only when Sadie finally spoke up did Allen stop.

He ordered the security guards to throw my mother out and banned her from ever stepping foot inside the hospital again.

I watched helplessly as my frail, aging mother was dragged away, blood dripping from her forehead, staining the new clothes I had bought for her.

Hatred and anguish twisted inside me.

At last, I understood. My marriage had been a mistake from the very beginning.

But it was too late now.

Sadie lay on the hospital bed, looking weak and helpless. Allen stayed by her side, presenting the jewelry he'd bought like priceless treasures.

Meanwhile, his assistant handled her medical bills. Passing by the operating room, he froze at the sight of blood seeping beneath the door.

His heart pounded as he pushed the door open, and the moment his eyes fell on the scene inside, his hands trembled.

He called Allen immediately.

He just managed to say my name before Allen cut him off coldly.

"Don't mention her again."

But the assistant's voice shook as he interrupted, panic spilling through the line.

"Mr. Jones, your wife... she's dead. Right here in the hospital."