When I got back to the room, Stella was staring out the window, silent.

She was six, but years of being sick made her look way younger.

The door clicked. She turned, tried to smile. "Daddy..."

I broke. Took her hand. "Stella, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry... This is all my fault."

I hated myself—hated how useless I was.

All I ever did was watch her suffer.

I was her dad. I was supposed to keep her safe.

She reached up and brushed my tears away, her voice barely a whisper. "Daddy, I heard the doctor. The kidney went to someone else."

I held her and fell apart. "I'm useless. I couldn't protect you."

She shook her head, weak but stubborn. "Daddy, I don't blame you. You've been trying so hard these six months. Don't cry. I don't hurt..."

She was lying.

She was drenched in cold sweat. Couldn't sleep. Couldn't rest.

Six years old, and she'd been fighting this for three of them.

And still, with almost nothing left, she was trying to comfort me.

Then—

The machine beside her screamed.

Doctors rushed in. Nurses followed. No time for the operating room. They started right there, hands moving fast, voices sharp.

I'd seen this before. Too many times.

But this time, Stella didn't come back.

The doctor met my eyes and slowly shook his head.

Everyone left.

I drifted to the bed and held Stella's fingers as they went cold in mine.

"Stella, don't leave me. Please. Open your eyes. Look at me. I'm begging you. Don't leave me."

The nurses turned away. Someone sniffed. The room felt hollow.

"We did everything we could... Your daughter still had a chance. If that kidney had gone to Stella, maybe—"

He stopped.

He didn't have to say the rest.

I already knew.

If that kidney had gone to Stella, she'd still be here.

But Kylie cut off her only shot.

And just earlier, she told Stella to stop being dramatic... told her to die.

She could ignore me. Trash my name all she wanted.

But Stella?

How could she do that to her own daughter?

To Stella, Kylie was everything. Her hero.

Even when Kylie barely showed up, Stella never complained.

She'd sit alone on her birthdays, clutching a photo, whispering excuses.

"Mommy's not ignoring me. She's just really busy... Mommy saves lives. She's an angel. I'm proud of her."

Over the past six months, Stella cried more than once, saying she missed her mom.

I called Kylie, asked her to visit.

She always had some excuse.

Half a year. Not one step into the ward.

Now Stella was gone, full of wishes that never came true.

How could Kylie do that?

It shredded something inside me.

I couldn't take it anymore. Pulled out my phone. Called her.

She kept hanging up.

That sick feeling hit hard.

I turned to the doctor.

"What floor is Evan Reaver's room on?"

I left Stella with a nurse and took the elevator up to the VIP floor alone.

What a sick joke. Kylie had shoved her own kid into a basic room downstairs while Caleb's son got the luxury suite up top.

The floor was quiet. I followed the sound until I found Evan's room.

Of course she was there.

The door was cracked open, and I froze.

Inside, Kylie and Caleb were throwing Evan a birthday party.

The room echoed with a cheesy birthday song.

When it ended, Kylie touched Evan's face like nothing was wrong.

"Good boy. You've healed so well you're even singing again. Daddy and I are both here for your birthday. Are you happy?"

Evan grinned. "Happy!"

Kylie lit up. "That's all that matters. I'd do anything for you. As long as you're healthy."

Caleb chimed in, all misty-eyed. "Kylie, I don't even know how to thank you."

She looked at him like they were the only two people in the room. "You don't have to..."

He took her hand. "If your dad hadn't torn us apart back then, we—"

"Don't." Her voice dropped. "I already know. I've always known. I never stopped."

I just stood there, watching them act like no one had died.

That's when it hit me—Stella never stood a chance.

All of it... it was because of Caleb.

He wasn't just an old friend. He was her first love. The one she never let go of.

Years ago, he bailed—broke up with her and vanished overseas. She was wrecked. That's when we met, on some blind date.

She needed a distraction. I fell hard.

We got married. And I kept thinking... if I gave enough, maybe one day she'd choose me.

However, ten years of loyalty, and it meant nothing.

One wave from Caleb, and she ran straight back.

I always knew he still lived in her heart.

And I—I was just a placeholder.

That part? I could live with. Maybe even forgive.

But Stella?

She was her daughter. Her own flesh and blood. And she still did this.

Something in me snapped.

I kicked the door open.

Kylie's smile vanished like a switch. "Aaron, what are you doing here?"

I walked in slow, eyes locked on the birthday cake sitting smug on the table.

It hit me like a punch to the chest.

My kid had just died in a hospital bed.

And her mom was up here, throwing a party for someone else's son.

Caleb noticed me staring and jumped in with that fake smile. "It's Evan's birthday. His surgery went great, and he's healing fast. Kylie came to celebrate. Since you're here, why not have some cake?"

Cake?

His kid stole the kidney meant for my daughter, and he wanted to share cake?

My mind snapped.

I slammed my hand across the table, sent the cake flying—smashed to pieces on the floor.

Evan wailed.

Caleb shouted, "What the hell are you doing?! Jealous of me and Kylie, fine—but don't pull this crap in front of a kid!"

Before I could say a word, Kylie stormed over and slapped me. "Aaron Abel, are you out of your damn mind?! Who said you could come in here and act like this?

"Let me make one thing clear—you're not even good enough to shine Caleb's shoes.

"Apologize to him right now, or we're done. Divorce. Immediately."

I turned to Caleb. "Apologize? For what? Do you even know where that kidney in your kid came from?"

His face twitched. He tried to play it cool. "I—I don't know."

But Evan—still sniffling—suddenly giggled. "Daddy's lying! I know! He told me the kidney was supposed to go to Kylie's daughter.

"But Kylie took it and gave it to me! She said no way she'd let that girl have it! Kylie's the best!"

I looked at Kylie and Caleb.

They'd gone ghost-pale.

My chest felt like it was tearing in two.

Tears slid down, hot and sharp.

"You knew. Both of you. Kylie—do you even realize Stella's dead? Your own daughter. And you killed her."

Kylie didn't say a word. Just stood there, drained of every ounce of color.

Caleb stepped in, voice all gentle and fake. "Aaron, come on. Even if you're jealous, using your daughter's illness like this is low. I've never seen a more irresponsible father. Don't make things harder for Kylie because of us. It hurts to watch."

That was his thing—soft voice, clean mask. And Kylie always bought it.

Sure enough, she steadied, eyes going cold. "Enough, Aaron. I'm done with this. Get out. If you leave now, I MIGHT go check on your daughter later."

I laughed.

She clearly didn't expect that.

Tears kept spilling, but I laughed anyway. "See my daughter? Fine. Then come with me. Right now. Go see Stella."

She barely had time to blink.

I grabbed her hair and yanked.

"Ahhh!"

Kylie screamed—shocked, unready.

She fought, but it didn't matter. I dragged her along, helpless in my grip.

Caleb lunged at me, but I kicked him square in the chest. He hit the ground with a grunt and stayed there.

The whole hospital watched as I dragged their precious director by the hair, straight down to the lower ward.

Kylie screamed the entire way. "You're insane! Aaron, you're a lunatic! Let go! Somebody call security!"

But before anyone could stop me, I'd already yanked her into Stella's room and threw her inside.

"You bastard! How dare you treat me like— I'm divorcing you! I swear I'm—"

She stopped.

The second her eyes landed on Stella's body, it was like the air got sucked out of the room.

All the color drained from her face.

Her knees gave out, and she dropped.