Inside, though, Kyle was calling me an idiot.

"She's the dumbest one in the family, isn't she? She can't even see through her family's fake illnesses, and here she is, feeling all guilty about it. Who does she think she is? A saint?

"And after what we did last night, she still hasn't realized I'm only pretending to be disabled?"

When I heard Kyle's thoughts, I instinctively clenched my fists.

Me? Dumb? Yes, the old me had indeed been dumb.

To earn money for my family's medical bills, I had worked myself to the bone. If I hadn't unexpectedly gained the ability to hear inner thoughts, I might still have been left in the dark.

But now that I could hear their thoughts, I'd just play along.

The broke, useless boyfriend whom Mable doesn't want? I'd gladly take him.

I was going to let them know what it meant to dig their own graves.

…

For the next few days, life seemed to slip back into that same suffocating routine. I continued to wake up before dawn every day to brew medicine, cook, and work.

However, I did quietly quit the three exhausting part-time jobs that had been crushing me.

Mom, Dad, and Mable noticed I suddenly had more free time, so they put even more energy into their performance.

That night, as I was slicing an apple, Dad sighed heavily.

"I heard from another patient today," he started, almost offhandedly. "They have a relative abroad who has the same illness as us, and they managed to get cured."

Mom's eyes lit up in response, only to dim again as she said in a frail voice, "Abroad? How much would that cost… With our family's situation… Forget it, we can't add to Talia's burden."

"Yeah, Talia," Mable chimed in at just the right moment, her tone filled with despair but also understanding.

She added, "Medical care might be better abroad, but it's not guaranteed to work. Besides, the medical bills will definitely be sky-high."

I watched as the three of them put on this perfectly coordinated act while I scoffed inwardly.

Whenever the old me heard the word "cured", I would've grabbed it like a lifeline and given everything I had to try, even if the chance was only one in ten thousand.

They knew me too well. That was why their performance was so precise.

I set down the knife and discreetly gave myself a hard pinch, forcing my eyes to redden quickly.

My voice trembled slightly, yet carried unshakable determination.

"Mom, Dad, Mable, what nonsense are you all talking about?"

I stood up and looked at each of them earnestly.

"As long as there's even a sliver of hope, I'll never give up! Money can be earned again, but once a person's gone, that's it!"

Mom looked at me worriedly. "But… how much money would that take?"

I gritted my teeth, my face set with fierce determination.

"Don't worry! Even if I have to sell my blood or a kidney, or even borrow from loan sharks, I'll make sure to send you three abroad for treatment! As long as you can get better, I'm willing to do whatever it takes!"

In an instant, the hospital room fell silent.

Then, three pounding hearts, racing with ecstasy, sounded clearly in my head.

"It worked! The fool really took the bait!"

"Loan sharks? Sell a kidney? This idiot really is way too easy to fool!"

"Perfect! We can finally go abroad and live the good life!"

They quickly plastered fake expressions of gratitude and concern across their faces.

Mom struggled to sit up, then reached for my hand. "Talia, how could we bear to let you do so much?"

Dad was in tears as well. "I'm a useless father… I've dragged you down…"

"It's nothing," I said. "I'm happy to do anything for this family."

I pulled my face into a gentle, meek smile, then carefully pulled my hand free from theirs.

"You all rest well. I'll go find out exactly how much money we need so we can start preparing."

With that, I turned and stepped out of the hospital room.

The moment the door clicked shut behind me, the smile vanished from my face, replaced by a cold, sharp chill.

Sell blood? Sell a kidney?

The old me would've done something that foolish. But now, since they wanted money that badly, I'd just have to give them a little "help".

Over the following days, under the pretext of processing documents for overseas medical treatment and needing to verify their identities, I easily obtained all three of their passports, along with the forged medical records and diagnostic reports they had created for the sake of their act.

I didn't go to the bank, nor did I ask anyone for help.

Instead, I took those documents straight to the illegal lenders tucked away in the city's shadowy corners—places that charged terrifyingly high interest rates.

Minutes later, an enormous sum of money with astronomical interest landed in the brand-new account Mom, Dad, and Mable had just opened.

The sunlight was blinding as I stepped out of the lending office. I took out my phone and dialed the familiar number.

"Hello, Mable?"

My voice was so gentle it could melt butter.

"Tell Mom and Dad the good news. I've raised the money. It's enough for the three of you to go abroad for treatment."

Hearing their joy, the corners of my mouth curved into a cruel smirk.

Hopefully, when they were finally "cured" and came back to discover the massive debt under their names, they'd be just as joyous.

…

As I left the area, I caught sight of a familiar figure sitting at an outdoor cafe, leisurely sipping coffee—Kyle.

I sneered inwardly, but I instantly plastered a look of concern on my face and rushed straight over.

"Kyle?" I called out, my voice filled with anxiety. "Where's your wheelchair? It's dangerous for you to come out by yourself!"

Kyle visibly froze for a second. A flash of surprise crossed his eyes before he quickly composed himself.

"This idiot still hasn't realized I was just faking it?" he thought.

I pretended not to notice and continued to fret over him.

He set his cup down.

"The wheelchair's being serviced," he said, his voice hoarse. "I got bored, so I came out for some fresh air."

His sharp gaze, however, swept over the folder in my hands.

"What are you doing here?" he asked casually.

I pretended as if I didn't want to answer.

Seeing this, Kyle reached for the folder, so I could only blurt out in a panic, "I… I just came to borrow some money!"

I looked up at him, eyes red-rimmed. "But I saw you before I borrowed anything… Please don't tell Mable. She'll worry!"

Kyle looked at me like I was an idiot, while his inner voice mocked me relentlessly. "She wants to borrow from loan sharks for those three con artists? Does she have a saint complex, or is she just plain stupid?"

We stared at each other in silence for a long moment before I stood up and held out my hand.

"It's about to rain. I'll take you home."

This time, Kyle was genuinely stunned.

I added helpfully, "I forgot about your legs. In that case, I'll get a taxi. I'll carry you on my back to the curb to wait, okay?"

"Carry me on her back? How many brain cells does she have?" he thought to himself.

However, he didn't mock me out loud. Seeing that I was insistent, he stayed silent for a few seconds before finally leaning forward and getting onto my back.

He was heavy. I gritted my teeth and held steady, staggering as I flagged down a taxi.

By the time we reached his rental apartment, the storm had begun.

I struggled to help him out of the taxi, then held an umbrella as I guided him toward the covered entrance.

The moment I opened the door, my strength gave out, and I tumbled to the ground, bringing Kyle—whom I was holding on to—down with me.

"I'm sorry! Are you okay?"

Ignoring my own pain, I scrambled over and kneeled beside him, cupping his face with both hands to check on him. Rainwater mixed with tears streamed down my face.

Kyle closed his eyes and frowned. He was soaked through and looked utterly dejected.

"I'm fine… You're the one who went through all the trouble…"

I held his face, my gaze sincere as I said, "Don't you dare say that. You're not useless or broken. I just know you'll get better!"

His eyes snapped open.

Rain streaked his face. The mockery that usually filled his gaze was gone, replaced by a mix of unreadable emotions.

"She…" he thought.

Seeing his lips so close and his gaze so confused, I leaned down and—in the midst of the pouring rain—kissed him.

…

When I woke up again, the space beside me was empty.

That was when I heard Kyle's low voice coming from the balcony, seemingly on a call.

"Got it. I'll be back within a week."

I pretended to still be asleep, listening as he hung up and walked closer.

His footsteps stopped by the bedside. A burning gaze fell on me, and his inner thoughts came through crystal clear.

"The family's urging me to go back and take over the business. It's time to wrap up this little game. Mable's gotten boring, but this fool… Maybe I'll pretend to be ill and have my fun with her. Let's see how stupid she really can be."

My eyelashes fluttered slightly, but I kept my eyes closed. Inside, I was scoffing coldly.

Once he turned and left, I opened my eyes slowly, my gaze sharp with calculation.

…

The next day, I showed up at Kyle's door with a thermos in hand and a gentle smile on my face.

"Mom, Dad, and Mable have all gone abroad for treatment. Maybe they'll get cured. For the time being, I'll help Mable take care of you."

A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes. He quickly plastered on a grateful expression, but inside, he was sneering at my foolishness.

Over the next few days, I showed up like clockwork to cook, clean, and keep Kyle’s messy rental apartment perfectly in order.

One evening, during dinner, he suddenly clutched his nose, blood dripping onto his plate. He brushed it off, saying his recurring nosebleeds were probably due to stress.

I insisted on taking him to the hospital for a check-up.

The test results came back quickly.

Kyle had cancer.

His expression fell, pretending to be utterly devastated.

"Don't come back here anymore," he said sullenly.

I lowered my eyes and said nothing. I just turned and walked out, leaving no trace of hesitation.

Even after the door closed, I could still hear his snickering inner thoughts. "I thought she'd kick up a fuss. Guess she knows better."

I turned, smirking.

He thought he'd set up a trap and fooled me. What he didn't know was that my game had only just begun.

Two days later, I went to a back-alley clinic and had 400mL of blood drawn. Then, staggering, I made my way to Kyle's apartment and collapsed ever so precisely in front of his door.

When I came to, the scent of disinfectant lingered. I vaguely heard the doctor's voice, saying, "She's pregnant, and she lost too much blood. She needs to rest—no more stress or shocks."

I felt a burning gaze fixed on me.

Only after the doctor left did I open my eyes.

Kyle looked at me, his expression complicated. He asked if I felt any discomfort.

I shook my head, propped myself up, pulled a debit card from my pocket, and handed it to him.

"This is the money I saved," I said, my voice weak but resolute. "Take it for your treatment. Don't worry, I'll have the baby aborted."

Kyle looked at me in disbelief. "Where did you get this money? And why would you terminate the baby?"

I gave a small, bitter laugh, ignoring his first question.

"What happened between us was a mistake. I'd love to keep the baby, but I can't afford it. Why make him suffer alongside me?"

Kyle stared at me for a long time, until his phone pinged. He glanced at it, and his eyes instantly widened.

"You fainted because you went to sell your blood?" he asked. "The money on this card… It's from selling your blood?"

I said nothing. I just stubbornly pressed the debit card into his hand.

Kyle held it and looked at me for a long time, his expression unreadable. Then, he returned the card to me.

"I'll marry you. You don't have to abort the baby. I'll take care of both you and the baby. As for my illness, the hospital made a mistake. You don't need to worry."

I feigned ignorance, saying I didn't want to burden him. Inside, though, my heart was racing with excitement.

Kyle took out his phone and transferred five million dollars to me right on the spot. The numbers flashing across the screen were almost dizzying.

"I have money. You don't have to worry about me not being able to support you and the baby," he said.

When I heard his confession, I forced my face into a shocked expression, but in reality, the corners of my mouth were fighting hard not to curl upward.

So much money! The rich life, here I come!

Soon after, I was moved into the VIP patient room, eating food I'd never tasted before in my life.

Kyle's parents, James and Kelly Hargrove, visited once. They clearly weren't satisfied with my background, but I was already pregnant, and Kyle was dead set on marrying me, so they had no choice but to relent.

…

Two months later, Kyle and I held a low-key wedding.

Just as I lifted the hem of my gown to step into the banquet hall, a familiar voice rang out from behind me.

"Talia Munroe! How dare you take out high-interest loans in our names?"

It was Mom.

I turned to see my parents and Mable standing at the entrance, looking out of place.

When Mable saw my wedding gown and the obviously expensive wedding arrangements, she quickly grabbed Mom's raised hand to stop her.

"You're getting married, Talia? How much money is my brother-in-law and his family giving you as wedding gifts? The money we owe the lender—let's just take it out of that. It can be his chance to prove how sincere he really is, too."

Seeing Kyle hurrying over from behind them, my lips curved into a smile.

"Sure. Your brother-in-law's here. You can tell him yourself how much money you want."