My boyfriend insists on hiking up a snow-covered mountain to see a waterfall. That very day, I fall from the peak.

When I regain consciousness, I've lost my memories and broken a leg. Even my boyfriend has become my brother-in-law.

Everyone turns their backs on me, but my psychologist, Quinton Scott, comforts and guides me. One day, he gets on one knee before me with a bouquet and a diamond ring in hand. He proposes as the medical personnel watch, and I weep with joy.

Half a year after our marriage, I hear his friend say, "Looks like your hypnosis has gone well for the past year, Quinton. Speaking of which, you've already helped Winnie get what she wants. Why bother marrying Jennifer?"

"Did you think I wanted to? I was afraid she'd suddenly regain her memories and try to hurt Winnie. It's easier for me to watch her like this."

"Is it worth going to such lengths for Winnie? You cleaned up so many of her messes, and you're now using Jennifer for that…"

"I'll do anything as long as Winnie is happy." Quinton stubs out his cigarette. After a long silence, he says, "Besides, I'm just borrowing Jennifer's womb. I'm putting trash to good use!"

"Jennifer cares about you a lot. If you really don't have those feelings for her, why don't you completely change her identity and let her go after this? Even a rabbit will bite when it's cornered," said Yves Cordon.

Quinton sneered dismissively. "What's wrong? Do you feel sorry for her? I haven't heard of Mr. Cordon having a fetish for disabled things."

Yves punched him and said, "I’m just sorry for you for wasting your entire life."

Quinton didn't dodge him. "Besides Winnie, it doesn't matter who I marry…"

I leaned against the wall as I tightly covered my mouth, afraid to make a sound. Tears slipped down between my fingers.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated, and a message popped up. "Honey, do you need me to pick you up?"

When I heard the sound of the people in the room getting up, I leaned against the wall as I hurriedly fled to the bathroom at the end of the hallway and pressed against the door to steady myself.

It turned out I hadn't lost my memory, but had been hypnotized. And the person I had relied on the most was actually the accomplice who had taken everything from me.

Another message popped up again. "Honey? Is everything okay? Why aren't you replying?"

"It's fine. I've arrived at your workplace," I replied, trembling as I did.

I forced a smile as I walked out of the bathroom.

To my surprise, I ran straight into Quinton and Yves. When Quinton saw me, he asked gently, "You just arrived?"

I nodded, naturally walking up to him and linking my arm with his.

Quinton suppressed the doubt in his gaze and kissed my forehead. His movements were gentle, but his touch felt strangely cold.

He appeared unsettled all the way to the restaurant.

Just as I lowered my head and gently sipped the soup from my spoon, I suddenly heard the sound of a spoon tapping against a cup.

My heart skipped a beat, and before I could resist, my thoughts grew faint.

"Did you hear anything unusual today?" Quinton asked.

"I heard—"

Just as I was about to answer, the baby gave me a hard kick. The pain in my abdomen made me cry out.

Quinton put down his spoon, walked over to sit beside me, and asked with concern what was wrong.

As I looked at his pretentious expression, I felt even more sorrowful.

In fact, I had already remembered the events from the day I fell off the snowy mountain.

Lester White said he wanted to capture the sunrise at White Rapids Waterfall and dragged me up the mountain in the middle of the night.

It had just snowed lightly that day, and the road was slippery. Suddenly, someone pushed me from behind.

Before I fell, I managed to grab the railing and saw that the person who pushed me was my younger sister—Winnie Jackson.

Winnie's hands were still trembling, but she didn't forget to use her feet to stomp on my hand, grinding it back and forth.

And the only witness, Lester, dragged the snarling Winnie behind him, as if she were the victim.

These memories only started piecing together bit by bit after I stopped taking psychiatric medication during my pregnancy.

Because of the love and warmth Quinton gave me, I was unwilling to dig into the painful past. But now, I've become a complete joke.

While Quinton was at work, I secretly went to consult a doctor, only to find out that my condition was more like the result of multiple deep hypnosis sessions.

When I got home, Quinton was sitting on the couch with a dark expression, surrounded by cigarette ends.

I pretended as if nothing had happened and hung up my bag. "Didn't we agree to no smoking in the house? Secondhand smoke is bad for the baby."

Quinton walked over and grabbed my arm. His veins bulged on the back of his hand as he did so.

He asked coldly, "You went to see a doctor?"

"What's wrong?" I replied, feigning composure.

"What? I'm a doctor, yet you went to someone else? You don't trust me?" he asked, his tone full of resentment.

I was about to answer when he suddenly scooped me up and silently carried me to the couch.

I took the opportunity to explain, "Aren't you busy? I just had a headache, and I can't take medicine, so I went to get a massage from the doctor."

He placed me on the couch and quickly removed my prosthetic leg, lowering his head to gently massage my stump.

I had no idea what he was thinking, so I said nothing.

Finally, he looked up at me and said, "If you really don't feel well, you should take care of yourself first. Should I prescribe you some medicine?"

"What nonsense are you talking about? The baby is already six months old. I can't take medicine! For the child, I'm willing to do anything, and so will you, right?" I shot back.

I cupped his face and tried to look into his eyes. But he pulled me into his arms and turned his head away.

"Of course. Not just for the baby, but for you too."

I listened to his steady heartbeat as he told a blatant lie. I sniffled and forced down the bitterness I felt in my heart.

…

Quinton suddenly took a long absence from work, saying he wanted to take better care of me.

But I knew he was just trying to keep an eye on me.

I leaned against the doorframe and watched him bustling around the nursery. I felt a little dazed.

Quinton held up a stuffed toy and waved it at me. "Honey, do you think the baby will like blue?"

"Probably."

Suddenly, Quinton's phone rang. He then lied to me without batting an eye. "It's a call from a patient."

I nodded. He turned and walked into the study.

Even though he spoke in a low voice, I still heard Winnie say she missed him.

After comforting Winnie, Quinton walked out and lied to me again. "Honey, something urgent came up at home. I need to fly back for a bit."

"Okay," I said as I closed my magazine.

Upon hearing this, he kissed my forehead almost reverently. "My wife is so understanding," he remarked before leaving.

After he left, I waited until the housekeeper fell asleep and sneaked into the study. I searched for a long time before finally finding that box in a hidden cabinet.

It was a locked box that he had once opened in a drunken haze. His eyes were reddened with emotion at the time.

Inside were countless photos of him and Winnie.

One of them, slightly faded at the edges and even laminated, was a childhood picture of them with an orange cat.

Quinton had never taken a photo with me, except for our wedding picture. Previously, when I asked him to take maternity photos with me as a keepsake, he refused and said he didn't like taking pictures.

It turned out he just didn't like taking pictures with me.

My nose stung, but my eyes remained dry—no tears came out.

At the very bottom of the box, there was an envelope. I held my breath and pulled it out.

Inside was a medical report confirming necrospermia. However, the identity details were all concealed.

Regardless, my intuition told me that this was definitely related to the baby in my womb.

After taking photos of both documents, I carefully put the box back.

…

Quinton was gone for half a month.

During that time, I tried every possible way to recover my memories.

Perhaps I wasn't skilled enough, but my memories became more and more chaotic. I even recalled a memory of being in an orphanage.

Just as I was feeling overwhelmed, Quinton returned.

During dinner, he suddenly suggested, "Honey, let me take you back to our country."

I was surprised and said, "Didn't you say that everything back home would remind me of painful memories and that going back wouldn't be good for my recovery?"

"You're much better now, aren't you? I want to change your environment—it might help with your condition. Besides, don't you miss your family and friends back home?"

As he spoke, he placed a piece of fish on my plate.

I pushed the fish aside. "Do I still have family or friends?"

"I've already bought the tickets. We're leaving tomorrow morning." Quinton had already decided for me.

The next morning, he forced me out the door.

After returning back to the country, he took me to the Scott residence. But those in the Scotts didn't welcome me.

"Wow, Quinton, you actually pushed your pregnant cripple back here. You went out of your way for a disabled person. Seriously!" Quinley Scott, Quinton's sister, clicked her tongue in disdain.

She glanced at my belly and rolled her eyes.

"Quinley, this is your sister-in-law!"

"I'll call her that if you actually treat her like your wife!" Quinley rolled her eyes again. "Or is she the main wife, and that other one is the second wife?"

Quinton slapped her after he heard this.

Quinley furiously retorted, "Why are you hitting me? I'm just speaking the truth!"

As I watched this ridiculous drama unfold before me, I clenched the armrest of my wheelchair tighter and tighter.

"Enough!" Quinton glared at Quinley.

"I'm going to see Grandpa. Take Jenny inside for me," he instructed.

Quinley didn't dare talk back, but she was clearly unwilling as she pushed me forward.

"You cripple, do you really like my brother?" she abruptly asked.

After walking a distance, the wheelchair suddenly stopped.

Wait, weren't the Scotts supposed to only have the two of them—Quinton and his grandfather?

While supporting myself on the armrest, I struggled to turn around and looked at Quinley in confusion.

She let out a deep sigh. "We're all just pitiful puppets being controlled."

She suddenly frowned and knocked a few times on the armrest of the wheelchair, then sneered.

Then, she switched back to her usual indifferent demeanor and said, "Quinton really puts a lot of effort into you. This wheelchair and prosthetic leg must've cost him quite a bit."

"What do you mean?" I couldn't help but ask as I saw the hesitation in her expression.

However, she only smirked before turning to leave.

I stared at the spot where she had knocked before. I discovered a barely noticeable dent in the wheelchair's armrest. After opening it, I found a GPS tracker embedded inside. There was a similar mark at the lower end of my prosthetic leg.

…

The next morning, under his grandfather's orders, Quinton drove me to visit his parents' graves.

But after receiving a message, he suddenly pulled over and abandoned me by the roadside.

The wind in the suburbs was much harsher than in the city, chilling me to my core.

…

Quinton never came home even until late that night.

I took a deep breath and turned on the surveillance device I had secretly placed in Quinton's car. On the screen, a man and a woman were pressed together intimately, and their breaths were ragged and interwoven.

After a long while, their breathing gradually steadied.

Winnie gently rested her head on Quinton's shoulder. "Quint, it's almost time. The Whites have been keeping a close watch lately. Can this really work?"

"Don't worry. I'm here. I'll arrange for Jennifer to have a C-section as soon as possible," he replied.

Quinton's eyes were filled with warmth as he gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind Winnie's ear.

With a self-reproachful tone, Winnie said, "It's all my fault for being in poor health and causing you so much trouble!"

"Don't say that. If it weren't for me back then, you wouldn't be in this situation. Besides, this is mainly Lester's problem."

Then, Quinton kissed Winnie's slightly parted lips once more.

I was overwhelmed with grief and rage.