The affection in Martin's voice made my blood run cold. I never could have imagined that while Claire's body was barely cold, he would still have the mind to flirt with Waverly.

Claire must have known he had changed, which was probably why she was willing to let me go.

I stood in the doorway with my hair disheveled, blocking Martin and Waverly from entering. "Martin! What do you think you're doing? That's Mom's bedroom!"

The moment he saw me, Martin quickly released Waverly's hand, which had been intertwined with his.

Waverly looked at me with a smile plastered across her face."Oh! Isn't Mrs. Hughes Senior in the hospital? How did you still find time to nap at home?"

Martin's expression immediately darkened."Stella, look at how pathetic your lies are! You used Mom as an excuse just to get me to come back. She raised you for nothing!"

The fact that those words came out of Martin's mouth was something I could barely believe. He would rather believe I was lying to him than accept that Claire had actually been critically ill.

Looking at Waverly standing beside him, I covered my face and let out a bitter laugh.

Perhaps noticing my bloodshot eyes, Martin's tone softened somewhat. "Look, I know I've been too busy lately and haven't given you much attention. You've seen me now, so you can go to the hospital. As for Mom... I'm planning to move her to a nursing home soon anyway. The room will be empty, so we might as well let Waverly stay there for a while."

My voice choked with tears as I spoke for Claire's sake. "Martin, get out. Don't let Waverly dirty Mom's room. Is she staying here? Not in your wildest dreams!"

Waverly's eyes held a mocking glint, though her tone pretended to be pitiful. "If Stella doesn't like me, then forget it. She's probably still mad that you didn't rush back when Mrs. Hughes Senior was hospitalized the other day! I'm so sorry, Stella... It's all my fault. I shouldn't have gotten sick, then Martin could have made it back in time."

As she spoke, she lifted her chin like some kind of victor.

Martin immediately jumped to her defense. "Waverly doesn't know anyone in this city except me. If I don't help her out as a fellow hometown friend, what's she supposed to do? Can you stop being so petty? Besides, we're just colleagues. I'm the director, and she's an intern nurse. What could possibly happen between us?"

I knew Martin had always been sentimental about old connections, and I had even told him I would not get jealous if he helped her out. Whenever I had time, I even helped him take care of Waverly myself.

However, Martin had taken my generosity for granted. Once he realized I would not get jealous, he started pushing the boundaries even further.

Everyone at the hospital knew that Martin and Waverly were practically inseparable, like a couple.

After he stayed out all night because of Waverly yet again, I decided to have a serious talk with him. Yet, he had exploded like a cornered animal, lashing out in defensive anger.

"Stella, come on. You see dirt in everything because your own head's full of it. We grew up together, and you know me. Waverly's like a little sister to me, nothing more."

Back then, tears had filled my eyes. I had never seen any "little sister" hold hands going to and from work, let alone sleep in the same bed.

I could not help but fire back sarcastically. "I don't care if you're her big brother or her lover. It has nothing to do with me. But right now, neither of you is touching anything in Mom's room!"

At those words, the anger in Martin's voice became impossible to suppress. "Stella, so I didn't make it to the hospital on time. What are you yelling about? Can you stop acting like some crazy woman spouting nonsense? There's nothing between us! I only see her as a sister. You're the one who's narrow-minded and paranoid! If you keep making a scene over nothing, I'm going to have to consider divorcing you!"

If this had been before, I would have backed down immediately. But now, all I had left was blazing anger and bitter amusement.

I laughed coldly. "You don't need to say it. I already took back the family heirloom from our marriage, so just wait to sign the divorce papers."

Martin's eyes flashed with panic when he saw the antique locket in my hand, but that quickly turned to anger. "Stella! Using Mom to trick me wasn't enough; now you're trying to threaten me with divorce?"

The warm touch of the antique locket felt just like Claire holding my hand, making my eyes well up with tears. "Martin, do you still think I'm lying to you even now? In seven years of marriage, have I ever neglected Mom once? But ever since Waverly came back, you stopped caring about anything at home.

"Am I the one lying? You were the one who begged to marry me back then, and now you think I'm threatening you with our marriage? Everyone can see how close you and Waverly have gotten. I don't believe you haven't heard the gossip. Forget it... I'm exhausted. Just go. I want to spend some time with Mom."

Martin's face went pale, and his eyes filled with nervous tension as he looked at me. "Stella, you need to tell me. What happened to Mom?"

Martin grabbed me roughly by the collar. His eyes were bloodshot with rage.

"Stella, Mom has treated you better than her own flesh and blood all these years. If you keep spouting nonsense, I'll rip your mouth apart!"

Looking at Claire's belongings scattered across the living room, my heart filled with sorrow. Even now, Martin still had not realized she was dead.

I wanted to tell Martin that Claire died because of him. Yet, before I could speak, he violently snatched the locket from my hand and roared furiously.

"I'll teach you to run your mouth! You want a divorce? Fine, I'll give you one!"

With that, he slammed the antique locket onto the floor, smashing it to pieces. The shards from the shattered locket grazed my cheek and cut through my already broken heart.

I frantically dropped to my knees, carefully picking up the fragments from the floor.

Waverly hid behind him with a gloating expression, though her words came out in a pitiful tone. "Martin, this is all my fault. If only I hadn't come to you, none of this would have happened. Stella, please calm down. I'm not the kind of person who destroys families. Since you don't like me, I'll leave right now!"

With every word she spoke, Martin's gaze grew colder. "Leave? You didn't do anything wrong in the first place. She's the one at fault! Stella, I'm giving you one last chance. Apologize to Waverly!"

My palms were covered in blood from the fragments cutting into my skin. Red drops bloomed across my skin, but they were nothing compared to the pain in my chest.

"Me? Apologize? Why should I apologize? Isn't it true that Mom died because you insisted on taking care of Waverly instead..."

Before I could finish, Waverly bit her lip, putting on her innocent act. "Stella, I'll leave right now. You don't need to be so passive-aggressive."

Martin grabbed her wrist and bellowed, "Stella, don't force me to divorce you!"

At those words, I slapped Martin hard across the face. "You think you have the right to bring up divorce? I already sent you the papers. I'm the one divorcing you!"

Martin clutched his reddening cheek, his eyes watching me warily as he quietly positioned Waverly behind him for protection. "Stella, calm down! Waverly just recovered from a serious illness. If you scare her, I won't let you get away with it!"

I cut him off coldly. "She's got you, the hospital director who sacrifices his own family for the greater good. When someone has a man who'll defend her even when his own mother is dying, how would I dare provoke her?"

Martin realized I was talking about the interview that had gone viral, and he relaxed a bit. "Stella, if you're jealous, just say so. There's no need to make such a scene. I know I've been neglecting you lately, so let me..."

He knew perfectly well that what bothered me was not just his ambiguous relationship with Waverly, but also his dismissive attitude toward Claire. Yet, he was deliberately downplaying it.

He always did this, avoiding the real issues.

Before, I had held back for Claire's sake, not wanting to see her hurt. But now, Claire's dying wish was for me to be happy and not to stay trapped in this marriage.

With that thought, I shook my head and interrupted him. "You two can get married and have kids for all I care. It's got nothing to do with me anymore. But this room belonged to Mom, and if you dare touch it, I'll fight you both to the death!"

For the first time, Martin saw clear disgust in my eyes, and he backed down, lowering his stance. "Stella, you've worked hard taking care of Mom lately. Let's go visit her together."

My eyes immediately burned hot with tears.

Claire was right here in the living room. Where else did he think we would go?

"Mom is right..."

I shook my head and was about to reach for the urn when Waverly let out a sudden cry. "Martin, I forgot I have a shift at the hospital today! Can you drive me there?"

Martin instinctively pulled her into his arms, his tone intimate. "Oh my, I forgot too! Let's get going!"

His peripheral vision caught my ashen face, and Martin released his hold, his eyes darting away. "I know Mom's condition better than anyone. Once I finish with my other patients, I'll arrange for her bone marrow transplant."

Watching his retreating back, a bitter smile twisted my lips as tears streamed down my face. Claire's death certificate was sitting in his office, but with his eyes full of nothing but Waverly, how could he possibly notice it?

I mumbled, "Martin, you missed your last chance to say goodbye to her..."

In a daze, I seemed to see Claire's kind, gentle eyes again. It was as if she were still comforting me.

Knowing Martin only had eyes for Waverly, I had no choice but to arrange Claire's funeral myself. Once I finished this final task, I would carry out her dying wish and live my life well.

The next day, after I had purchased the funeral supplies, I came home to find the front door broken open. The baby shoes Claire had prepared were carelessly thrown on the floor, and her belongings had been torn apart and scattered everywhere.

Waverly stood in the living room directing construction workers to remove everything from Claire's room.

My blood ran cold with fury as I rushed forward. "Stop! What are you doing? Stop this right now!"

Waverly's eyes held an air of indifference, and she smiled with smug confidence. "Stella, Martin told me to decorate according to my own taste. He said I could do whatever I wanted."

I clenched my teeth in rage, my eyelids twitching uncontrollably. I could not believe that Martin had actually allowed Waverly to destroy the few remaining traces of Claire.

I lunged forward and grabbed Waverly by the hair, dragging her toward the door. "Get out! Don't make me say it twice!"

Waverly screamed and struggled against me. "Ah! You bitch! Grab her! I'll pay you double!"

One of the construction workers stepped forward and kicked me hard, sending me crashing to the floor. The burning pain spread through my body as I grimaced, but they clearly were not done with me yet.

The group surrounded me and kicked me repeatedly. Soon, blood trickled from the corner of my eye as my screams filled the entire room. The flowers I had bought for Claire were trampled under their feet, covered in dust.

Martin came back just then, heard my cries, and shouted for everyone to stop. He hurried over and carefully pulled me to my feet.

He turned to Waverly, his tone cold. "What's going on? What are you doing?"

Waverly sobbed and sniffled, wiping away tears. "Martin, you already agreed to let me move in, but Stella wouldn't listen. She kept telling me to get out. She came back with all these creepy funeral items, and when I told her to throw them away, she wouldn't listen and tried to hit me..."

I looked at the scattered funeral supplies and Claire's photo on the floor, my heart stabbing with pain.

However, Martin did not even glance at those things as he pulled Waverly into a comforting embrace.

"Stella, I'm the one who told her to redecorate. If you have a problem, take it up with me. Why do you have to target Waverly?"

Looking at the photo trampled under her feet, I felt such rage that I coughed up blood before I could even speak.

Martin carefully wiped the blood from my body, and his tone immediately softened. "Waverly was just trying to protect herself... She never meant to hurt you. At worst, I'll apologize on her behalf, and we can put this behind us. Come on, let me take you to get bandaged up."

The tenderness I had once longed for now made me nauseous, and I dry heaved.

With Martin backing her up, Waverly smugly directed the construction workers to throw away all of Claire's belongings. She picked up the memorial photo from the floor, feigning confusion.

"What's this picture?" she mumbled.

Then, she shrieked, deliberately dropping Claire's photo on the ground as if it were cursed.

"Martin, Stella is... Isn't this going too far? Mrs. Hughes Senior is alive and well, but she actually..."

Martin violently tore the photo to shreds and threw the pieces in my face. The fragments cut my cheeks and sliced through my already shattered heart.

I dropped to my knees, frantically picking up the pieces and trying to put them back together. The glass shards pierced my palms and shins, but nothing hurt as much as seeing Claire's final photo destroyed.

I lifted my head with difficulty, just in time to see Martin holding Claire's urn, examining it from all angles. "Martin, Stella's been acting so strange these past few days. Getting all this stuff. Isn't she just cursing Mrs. Hughes Senior? Why don't we just throw all of it out!"

I raised my head with difficulty, tears of blood streaming down my face. "Martin, that's Mom's ashes..."

Martin did not hear me as he frowned at the box. "Throw it out. It's bad luck just looking at it."

I lunged forward and caught the urn, my knees and elbows scraping against the floor until they were bloody. "Get out! All of you get out!"

Martin pulled the wounded-looking Waverly behind him. "It's just an urn. She didn't do it on purpose. Why are you freaking out again..."

I cut him off through gritted teeth. "Martin, are you even human? Those are Mom's ashes! You killed her to please Waverly, and now you've scattered her remains too. Are you happy now?"

Martin's eyes widened in shock, and he immediately told everyone to stop throwing things away. With trembling hands, he called his department, and moments later, his expression grew heavy.

Just when I thought he might feel remorse, he suddenly ordered people to snatch the urn from my hands.

I held on tight, sobbing loudly. "Martin, what are you doing? That's Mom's urn! She's your own mother! Make them let go! Let go!"

Martin took the urn from them, staring down at me with cold disappointment as I fell apart on the floor. "What kind of terrible things are you saying? Mom is perfectly fine! Waverly just called her yesterday!"

"Martin, I'm not lying. Mom is really dead! You're the one who killed her! Please just let her rest in peace, I'm begging you..."

However, Martin refused to look at me anymore. Right in front of my eyes, he slammed the urn hard against the floor.

The moment it shattered, the ashes scattered in the wind and landed on my face, as if Claire was wiping away my tears one last time before drifting away.

In that moment, my heart completely broke. I crawled to where the ashes had fallen and scooped them up as tears poured down my face. All the grief and rage in my heart transformed into pure hatred.

"Martin, why? Killing Mom wasn't enough for you... It wasn't enough that you caused Mom's death. How could you do something this vile? Don't you feel any weight on your conscience when you sleep at night?"

Martin viciously slapped me across the face, his features twisted with rage. "Stella, ask yourself: hasn't Mom treated you well all these years? Even when you couldn't give us children, she never said a word. And now you're cursing her? You're going to eat those ashes right now! Then you're going to apologize to Mom! Or else don't blame me for divorcing you!"

He shouted, "Eat them! Eat them now!"

Just as Martin was losing his patience, his phone rang.

He answered it irritably, and I heard a panicked voice on the other end.

"We found it, Dr. Hughes. Mrs. Hughes Senior... passed away a week ago."