One month before the factory selection, I was kidnapped and had my hands broken, leaving me unable to ever operate machinery again. When my husband, Kairo Hamilton, saw me, he cried out in anguish, but despite his calls to the police, the culprit was never found. My despair drove me to attempt to end my life on several occasions, prompting Kairo to bring his sister Jacqueline to live with us and care for me.

Late at night, the pain grew unbearable, and I awoke from a nightmare to hear Jacqueline whispering outside my bedroom door.

"Brother, Clementine is such a good person. Why did you have to personally destroy her hands and delay her rescue?"

Kairo replied calmly, "I had no choice. Journey wants that position at the large national factory, but there's only one slot. Clementine’s skills are too good, leaving no chance for Journey. I had to crush her hopes this way."

"But Clementine once saved you. How could you repay her kindness by helping Journey?"

"Clementine adores you so much. If she knew the truth, it would break her heart."

Kairo was silent for a moment before continuing, "Clementine only has me left as family. Even if she finds out, if I plead enough, won't she forgive me? Besides, Journey is sensitive and cries easily, unlike Clementine, who’s tougher. Isn’t it natural for me to favor Journey a bit more?"

Lying in bed, my face went pale. It turned out my misfortunes were orchestrated by him because my capable hands blocked Journey Stone's path. If his supposed love was so corrupt, then I want none of it.

"Now that you're married to Clementine, can't you just settle down and be with her?" Jacqueline's voice was quiet, tinged with frustration.

Kairo dismissively replied, "Sis, relax. This is the last thing, and I'll treat Clementine well from now on."

"Besides, she's fine now, isn't she? It's just a missing finger, not an arm or a leg," he added casually.

I glanced at my severed pinky and gave a bitter smile. Fine? How lightly he spoke. The attacker had hammered my hands over and over, the pain relentless. I begged for mercy, but he cut off my pinky at the peak of my agony, the sharp pain nearly making me faint. My screams echoed for over two hours before he finally left, satisfied.

I once thought that was my worst nightmare, never dreaming that the person so brutally harming me was my husband of five years.

When Kairo entered, I was sitting on the bed, tears silently falling. He feigned concern, asking, "What's wrong, Clementine? Does your wound hurt again?" He reached for an ointment from the nightstand, ready to apply it to my hand—a routine he performed daily.

What once moved me about his gentle care now only filled me with icy dread. How could he be so heartless, then pretend such sorrow afterward?

"Blowing on it will make it better," he said softly, blowing on my wound. "Seeing you in pain hurts me so much."

I jerked my hand back; his breath on my wound felt like a snake's venomous tongue, making me nauseous.

He paused, then asked, pretending to be hurt, "Clementine, what's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

I turned away, refusing to look at his deceitful face.

"No, it's fine. I don’t hurt anymore."

He gently patted my back, soothingly saying, "Sleep now. Don't worry. Even if your hands are completely useless, I'll never leave you."

"I've found a good doctor. I'll bring him tomorrow to look at your hands."

I closed my eyes, letting tears seep into the pillow. Kairo probably hoped I’d remain helpless forever, leaving him with no worries.

Though wrapped in thick blankets, I felt cold all over. The pain in my wounds mixed with the feeling in my heart, as if they were being ground in a meat grinder, twisted and shredded.

Early the next morning, I called Titus Washington, my late brother's esteemed supervisor, who watched me grow up. After briefly explaining my situation, he was silent for a long time before simply saying, "Hang in there, I’ll come for you in a few days."

After the call, I felt slightly more settled.

Captain Washington had been deeply respected by my brother, who had sacrificed his life to save Kairo from a flood. Kairo had sobbed uncontrollably at Titus’s feet, vowing to care for me for life. I never imagined my brother’s sacrifice would pave the way for a devil in human skin.

I went to the community center and requested help drafting a divorce application. Trembling, I pressed my fingerprint, each mark feeling like a stab, though none matched the pain in my heart.

Refusing to leave it at that, I visited the hospital. The doctor, seeing my nearly deformed arm, gasped, "It's so severe! It should receive regular treatment, or it’ll be useless!"

I had foolishly believed Kairo. I hadn’t gone to the hospital, and instead, he brought a slew of so-called "specialists" home to treat me. In hindsight, they likely conspired with him, delaying my recovery to ensure lasting damage.

Despite such actions only taking an hour, it felt endless.

Returning home, Kairo was already there with a doctor waiting.

"What's the prognosis, Doctor? Will my wife's hands make a full recovery?"

He asked hopefully, as if he genuinely wanted me to get better. The doctor looked at my arms for a moment before shaking his head.

"There’s no hope. The tissue is dead."

Kairo sighed with regret, then turned to comfort me. "It's okay, Clementine. This doctor isn't good enough. I'll find someone else."

He said this, but his eyes met my blank stare, revealing a hint of guilt as he quickly looked away. Typically, hearing "no hope" would make me despair, but today I was surprisingly calm, and he didn't know why.

I looked coldly at the so-called "doctor," whom I recognized as Colson Hall, a man who scavenged for junk in a nearby alley. It was laughable how, in just a few days, he’d been turned into a "miracle doctor." My husband had really gone to great lengths to ensure my condition wouldn’t improve.

I was about to say there was no need to find another doctor when I noticed the guest room door was open. Inside, everything looked brand new, as if it had been deliberately redecorated.

Kairo followed my gaze and hurriedly explained, "The weather's been chilly lately, and Journey's place has some drafts. I invited her to stay here for a few days. You know, I owe her."

I felt a bitter smile creep up inside. The temperature had actually climbed over seventy degrees; his excuse about "chilly" weather was really a stretch. Back then, I was the one who took Kairo to the clinic when he was feverish and took care of him for two days and nights. Yet, when he woke up, the first person he saw was Journey Stone, and he firmly believed she had saved him. No amount of explanation from me could change his mind.

Clearly, he wasn't oblivious; he had deliberately credited his gratitude to Journey. I nodded calmly, "Whatever you think is best."

Seeing my agreement, his face brightened even more. "Clementine, you're the best! By the way, give Journey those two vintage coats in your closet. After all, you..."

Those coats were my brother’s only keepsakes, the one thing I treasured. Kairo knew how much they meant to me, yet he wanted to give them to Journey.

"I’m not giving them away. They're the only things my brother left me. Did you forget?"

It seemed he had forgotten for a moment, as he furrowed his brow and said, "Why let them sit in the closet and gather dust? Besides, your brother is gone."

I didn’t want to hear his heartless words any longer, so I interrupted him, "I said no, and I mean it."

His expression turned dark, and he slammed the door as he left.

I was jolted awake by a burst of raucous laughter.

In the living room, the table was laden with an extravagant spread, mostly meat dishes. Kairo was tenderly feeding a piece of steak to Journey.

"Journey, didn't you say you wanted some meat? I made six different meat dishes just for you today."

Throughout our marriage, he never set foot in the kitchen. Even when my hands couldn't function, he'd just give me plain toast to get by. Who knew he had any culinary skills?

Jacqueline, his sister, noticed I was awake and awkwardly pulled me to the table. "Hungry, Clementine? Kairo whipped these up just for you."

She was obviously trying to make me feel better. Yet, the table brimming with dishes containing shellfish, which I'm allergic to, didn’t seem intended for me.

Journey giggled, "Clem, you have to try everything later, don’t hold back."

Her tone and demeanor made me feel like an outsider in my own home. Kairo didn't refute anything, simply sitting by Journey's side. Jacqueline, unable to hold back, whispered sharply, "Kairo, your wife is right here! Sit over here."

Kairo looked irritated, "Journey can't handle her seafood; I have to help her."

He completely overlooked his wife, whose hands needed help more. I ate with indifference, tasting nothing. I couldn't manage any of the food on the table, and Jacqueline had to spoon-feed me plain mashed potatoes. Meanwhile, Kairo and Journey flirted and bantered, acting as if I wasn’t even there.

Journey, clearly pleased with herself, said, "Clem, soon it will be time for my company event."

"You have to come cheer for me. Kairo even promised to take a day off." She leaned her head on Kairo's shoulder, looking up at him, and Kairo gazed back lovingly.

"Go ahead, if you want her to go, she will." Kairo decided for me.

I replied coldly, "I’m not going." Ever since I lost the use of my hands, I hadn’t seen anyone outside; he knew this, yet he still wanted me to go?

Kairo frowned at me. "Don’t spoil the mood. You can sulk all you want; I don't mind, so why should you?"

I inwardly sneered. What does he have to worry about? Isn’t this exactly how he wanted things?

"It's settled. If you don’t go, I’ll drag you there myself." He gave me no choice.

I didn’t bother to argue with him; he wouldn’t listen no matter what I said.

That evening, while taking a shower, someone locked me in the bathroom from the outside. I heard Journey’s gleeful laughter outside.

I pounded on the bathroom door, shouting for help, but no one answered. Clad only in a thin nightgown, I grew colder as the temperature dropped, shivering from head to toe. I curled up on the freezing tiles, my mind slipping away.

By the time Jacqueline returned from her late shift, I was delirious with fever. She scooped me up, ready to rush me to the hospital.

I leaned weakly against her shoulder, unable to open my eyes.

But I didn’t expect to run into Kairo and Journey hand in hand in the hallway on their way home.

"Kairo! Kairo! Clementine’s fever is severe! Quick, flag down a car so we can take her to the hospital." Jacqueline shouted down the hallway, her voice tinged with panic.

"Don’t take her to the hospital; what if they fix her hands?" Kairo angrily blocked her.

Jacqueline shouted back furiously, "She’s in this condition; she’ll die if we don’t take her to the hospital!"