Ronda had a long dream.

In the dream, a blood-red sea spread out before her, and a baby floated on the surface. It reached out with its hands and cried for its mother.

She desperately swam towards it and wanted to grasp its hand. But just as her fingers were about to touch it, Greg's cold face suddenly appeared. He held a scalpel and ruthlessly severed the connection between her and the baby.

"Ah!" Ronda woke up screaming, drenched in cold sweat.

"Dr. Lambert, you're awake?" A young nurse stood by her bed. Her eyes were red as she changed the IV bottle for Ronda.

Seeing Ronda awake, the nurse quickly turned away to wipe her tears. She said in a choked voice, "Please try not to move. You're still very weak after the dilation and curettage procedure."

The dilation and curettage procedure.

Ronda blankly reached for her abdomen. It was as flat as ever. But she didn't feel connected to her baby anymore.

"The baby... is gone?" Ronda's voice was as light as a breeze. It seemed to dissipate at any moment.

The nurse couldn't hold back any longer and burst into tears. "Dr. Lambert, you were brought in too late... If it had been just half an hour earlier, even ten minutes earlier, the baby could have been saved. But... but...

What happened?

But her husband, the baby's father, thought she was lying and acting when her life was on the line. He shook off her hand for help and even used research funds to threaten her into apologizing to the very woman who caused this.

Besides, he had even pushed her hard against the headboard.

Ronda did not cry.

She had given up on him.

She simply stared quietly at the ceiling. The light in her eyes slowly faded away. They became lifeless in the end.

"What about my hand?" Ronda asked her second question.

The nurse's sobbing paused, and her eyes were evasive. She dared not speak.

"Tell me the truth." Ronda's voice was surprisingly calm.

The nurse bit her lip and said in a trembling voice, "The orthopedic chief just came by. He says... that your right arm's ulnar nerve is completely severed. The tendons are severely damaged. The crush fractures from the secondary compression... Even if it recovers, you... won't be able to perform surgery anymore."

It was as expected.

Ronda closed her eyes and couldn't utter a single word.

She would no longer be able to hold a scalpel.

She was the youngest neurosurgery expert in the country. Her hands had saved countless lives. They were her pride and the only dignity she had in her cold marriage.

Now, her hand was destroyed by Greg, who claimed it was "just a minor injury."

"Leave me alone. I want to be quiet," Ronda said softly.

The nurse gave Ronda a worried glance and reluctantly walked out of the room.

The ward fell into a deathly silence again.

Ronda lay on the bed as a puppet without its soul.

She didn't know how much time had passed when the door opened again.

This time, it wasn't Greg, but Rose, wearing a pink hospital gown. She looked very well.

She carried a bouquet of vibrant lilies and walked gracefully. She showed no sign of an asthma flare-up.

"Ronda, I heard you had undergone surgery? Oh dear, poor woman." Rose approached the bed and looked down at Ronda with a fake smile like a victor. "Greg is very busy looking for a psychologist abroad for me, so he couldn't come to see you. I thought I'd come on his behalf to check on you."

She casually tossed the lilies onto the bedside table. The pollen sprinkled down and landed right on Ronda's pillow.

Ronda was allergic to pollen. Greg knew it, and all the staff members of the hospital knew it.

But Rose didn't seem to know it.

"Take your trash and leave." Ronda didn't even bother to lift her eyelids.

"Ronda, don't be so angry." Rose pulled up a chair and sat closer to Ronda. She lowered her voice with a venomous boast. "You know what? Greg just promised me that once I recover, I'll be joining the neurosurgery department and taking over your position. He says your hand is useless anyway. So you cannot hold a position for nothing. It will be a waste of resources. It's better to give me the opportunity, as I am more talented."

Ronda's eyes snapped open, and she glared at Rose intensely. "What did you say?"

"I said your position is now mine."

Rose laughed happily while pointing to Ronda's plastered right hand. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, that hand was once called the 'Hand of God,' but now? I bet you even struggle to hold a spoon. Ronda, what's the point of your fighting? The only reason Greg married you was that your hands could bring profit to the hospital. Now that you're useless, do you think he'll keep you? You are a washed-up woman now."

"Rose, you'll pay for what you have done," Ronda said, each word with anguish.

"Really? Fine," Rose snorted coldly. She suddenly changed her expression. She grabbed the fruit knife from the table, shoved it into Ronda's hand, forcefully held her hand, and aimed the knife at her own arm.

"What are you doing?" Ronda was shocked and tried to pull her hand back, but Rose's grip was astonishingly strong.

"What am I doing? Of course... I'm helping you out." Rose gave a sinister smile as she applied force. "Hiss—"

Blood gushed out instantly and stained the white sleeve red.

Rose immediately let out a piercing scream. She fell backward and knocked over the chair. Then she lay trembling on the floor. "Help! Help! Ronda, no... I'm sorry. Please don't kill me..."

The door was flung open.

Greg rushed in. His pupils constricted sharply at the scene.

Rose was sprawled on the floor, her arm covered in blood. Her face was streaked with tears, and she pointed fearfully at the bed.

Meanwhile, Ronda stood frozen, holding the bloodstained fruit knife in mid-air.

"Ronda, have you lost your mind?" Greg roared.

He kicked the knife out of Ronda's hand and then got down on his knee to cradle Rose in his arms. He said with concern, "Rose, are you okay? Don't be afraid. I'm here."

"Greg... it hurts... I just came to apologize to Ronda... I didn't expect her to suddenly grab the knife..."

Rose curled up in his arms and sobbed uncontrollably. She was trembling like a leaf in the wind. "Am I going to die..."

"Don't say that. With me here, no one can hurt you." Greg lifted his head sharply and looked at Ronda as if she were a heinous criminal. His gaze was filled with rage and murderous intent. "Ronda, have you lost your humanity? Rose came with good intentions, and you attacked her with a knife?"

Ronda looked at the undisguised hatred in his eyes and suddenly laughed out loud.

Tears streamed down her face.

"Greg, if you're not blind, you'd see who the knife handle is pointing at. You can see the direction of the force."

"You are still denying it."

Greg stood up with Rose in his arms. He towered over Ronda like a judge. "I saw it with my own eyes. Is that not enough? Rose wouldn't even dare kill a chicken. How could she possibly harm herself? But you are jealous and heartless. Ronda, it seems losing your right hand wasn't enough to teach you a lesson. Do you want to end up in jail?"

"I want to end up in jail?" Ronda propped herself up on the bed. Her face was ghostly pale, but her voice was clear. "Greg, do you even know what I've just been through? My baby is gone. You killed your baby. I don't even have the strength to hold a knife. How could I hurt her?"

"My baby?" Greg sneered. His eyes were full of disdain. "The obstetrics department did send a report saying you had a curettage. But Ronda, who was the father? I haven't touched you for months. How could you get pregnant?"

Ronda's mind went blank at that moment.

She couldn't believe her ears. "What did you say?"

"I said, don't try to pin that unknown illegitimate baby on me." Greg's words were like daggers. "In an attempt to win me back, you pretended to be injured. Now, you're faking pregnancy and resorting to finding another guy? Ronda, you disgust me."

"Last month on the third..." Ronda tried to explain. He was drunk that day.

"I was drunk that day. I don't remember anything. You may take advantage of me, or you just made it all up."

Greg interrupted her impatiently. He turned to gently console Rose in his arms. "Rose, let's go. I get you bandaged. Such a vicious woman isn't worth your tears."

At the door, he paused. With his back to Ronda, he said, "Given your deliberate harm to Rose, I'll have the legal department involved. Also, you're relieved of your duties as head of neurosurgery. Stay here and reflect for the next few days. Once Rose forgives you, you can get out of the hospital."

Ronda was confined to the hospital room, cut off from all contact with the outside world.

The meals brought by the caregivers were cold. The nurses changing her bandages were unfamiliar. They were all rough, and each time they ripped off the gauze, it felt like tearing at her skin.

But none of this was the worst pain.

The deepest pain came from the television in her room. It was forcibly locked onto the hospital's internal channel. It repeatedly played the video where Greg attended a press conference.

On screen, Greg was dressed in a sharp suit, looking confident and triumphant.

Beside him stood Rose. Her arm was wrapped in exaggerated bandages, but she was smiling weakly yet resolutely.

"Here, on behalf of the hospital, I announce that the former Neurology Chief, Ronda Lambert, is unable to continue her duties due to physical and psychological reasons. Plus, she is suspected of serious allegations of academic fraud and violations of medical ethics. The administration has decided to terminate her employment. Now, we will appoint the returning elite, Ms. Rose Lloyd, as the acting chief of neurology. She will take over Ronda's team and work on the unfinished project about 'Brain Nerve Regeneration'..."

Ronda stared at the screen intensely. Her nails were digging into her palm.

Academic fraud? Violations of medical ethics?

For ten years, she had dedicated countless sleepless nights pouring her heart and soul into that project. Every set of data was painstakingly gathered over hundreds of hours under the microscope.

The project was her hope to contend for the Nobel Prize and to cure countless paralyzed patients.

It was her life.

Greg, in an effort to please Rose, not only stripped her of her position but also handed over her life's work on a silver platter and even sought to slander her with an irremovable stain.

"Greg... how could you be so utterly merciless..." Ronda trembled all over. She grabbed the water cup from her bedside and hurled it at the television screen.

"Bang!"

Water splashed everywhere, and Greg's deceitful face shattered into fragments. Yet the nauseating sound continued to play.

Just then, the door was pushed open.

Several men in black suits entered, led by Greg's assistant, Richard Norris, who was holding a document in his hand.

"Ms. Lambert, Greg asks you to sign these documents." Richard handed them to her expressionlessly.

Ronda glanced at them. They were a patent transfer agreement and a divorce agreement."

The patent transfer agreement stated that she was willing to transfer all naming and patent rights of the "Brain Nerve Regeneration" project to Rose for free.

And on the divorce agreement, the clause on asset division glared up at her: she was to leave with nothing.

The reasons were that she cheated on him and had an illegitimate child and that she had criminal behavior of intentional harm.

"I want to see Greg." Ronda threw the documents onto the floor and said with a hoarse voice, "Tell him to speak to me himself. I'll sign only over my dead body."

Richard bent down to pick up the documents. He patted off dust and said in a tone carrying a hint of pity but mostly disdain, "He is very busy and has no time to see you. He says if you don't sign them, he wouldn't mind handing the evidence of you cheating on him over to the media. Then, your reputation will be ruined, and you will face massive breach penalties and imprisonment."

"The evidence of my cheating on him? I never do that," Ronda shouted.

"Greg says you did, so you did," Richard said coldly. "Besides, Rose's injury assessment results are out. It is a medically classified severe injury. With just one word from Greg, you could be arrested by the police right now."

Ronda collapsed onto the bed and felt utterly cold.

In this city, Greg held absolute power.

It was as easy as squashing an ant for him to crush her.

"Tell him I'll sign them."