My husband, Chandler Rotterdam worked as a researcher developing a new serum. Driven to find a cure for my cancer, he poured himself entirely into the project. 

However, on the day of the injection, it wasn’t him who administered the treatment—it was his childhood friend, Pauline Hemsworth. 

She had injected an unregulated dose, and I could do nothing but watch as my life slipped away. Even the child growing inside me was not spared. 

Meanwhile, Chandler remained by her side. 

“If this research succeeds, all the credit goes to you!” Chandler assured Pauline. “She would never blame you if anything happens. She’d be grateful to be the first to receive the drug.” 

But the experiment failed. After discovering my death, Chandler lost his mind.

By the time I took my last breath, the pain had already numbed me.

The experiment had failed.

They had injected me with an improper dose and I could feel that death was near.

Only my mom stayed by my side, pleading through her tears.

“Don’t leave, my daughter, please don’t go.”

“Isn’t he…coming?” I asked, my gaze fixed on the empty hallway.

My mom’s hands trembled as she dialed for Chandler Rotterdam once more.

This time, he finally answered, his tone laced with irritation.

“Didn’t I already tell you? This is a critical time in Pauline’s experiment! We have to focus on what we’re doing so stop bothering me!”

My mom’s voice caught, and when she spoke again, it was hoarse. “Chandler, it’s me.

“Could you come to the hospital? Mariah…she doesn’t have much time. She wants to speak with you one last time.”

After a brief silence, Chandler let out a low, mocking laugh.

“Honestly, Mother, is that necessary?

“Did Mariah put you up to this? I’ve said it countless times—there’s nothing between Pauline and me! Tell her to stop being so jealous.”

“No, it’s not that, Mariah really—”

He cut her off.

“Enough! Do you think she could’ve lived this long without Pauline giving her the chance to try the new drug? If she can’t be grateful, that’s one thing, but she’s full of filthy thoughts—it’s honestly sickening.

"Tell her that once she's better, she can stay at the lab for a while. She can cook for Pauline, clean up—consider it her way of repaying us.”

On the other end of the line, Pauline chimed in sweetly. “Mariah, are you coming? The birthday candles are about to go out!”

My body convulsed, and my vision began to blur.

My mom was horrified.

“Chandler, please…as a favor to me, Mariah is truly on the brink—” she pleaded but Chandler’s patience was entirely exhausted.

“Then let her die quickly, and far away, so she doesn’t taint my sight!”

Then he hung up.

I stared blankly at the ceiling as I felt each breath slip further away.

Even the tiny life inside me had stopped fighting.

My heart beat calmly. I thought I’d feel devastated but hearing those words left me with an unexpected sense of calm.

Then I heard my mom wail, “My poor Mariah…”

“Mom, please…don’t cry,” I mumbled, as blood slipped from my mouth.

“Turn on a recorder for me. I want to leave a message for Chandler.”

After leaving those final words for him, I died.

And the child inside me, barely four months along, passed with me.

Following my instructions, my mom erected a gravestone for both me and my child.

The problem was that she did not have the right to claim my body.

I had signed a trial agreement during my life that after the experiment failed, my remains would be returned to the lab for sample analysis.

Only after the analysis could I finally rest in peace.

Thus, my soul drifted alongside my corpse to the lab.

Chandler was the person responsible for the sample analysis.

“The sample showed excessive drug use. We need to compare it with the advanced database,” he said, his brow furrowing slightly.

“The body is almost entirely decayed. We should check whether there was improper use of the experimental drug.

“This is unusual…even with a failed trial, it shouldn’t be this severe.”

His assistant, Ben Fallon nodded and began taking notes, but Chandler did a double take as he steadied himself against the computer.

“She… was pregnant during the trial?” he asked softly.

“Yes! You’re right! The tests show she was pregnant!” Ben cried out in shock.

“We need to confirm which group this sample belongs to. This is a violation of protocol!”

Ben was about to flip through the records when a knock at the door interrupted them.

Outside the glass window, Pauline smiled brightly and mouthed, “Look what I brought you!”

She held up a small cake in her hands.

Chandler’s serious demeanor suddenly shifted and softened into a gentle smile.

"This seems to be Pauline—” Ben began but Chandler silenced him.

“The other data doesn't show any significant issues. Confirm the details, and then you can inform the family to come and collect the body. I have things to attend to.”

Ben swallowed his words as Chandler opened the door and took a bite of the cake Pauline had spooned for him.

He smiled. “It’s delicious.”

It was a stark contrast to the man I remembered who claimed to dislike deserts.

I loved making cakes. The birthday cake for our wedding was one I had baked myself.

We met through an arranged marriage.

Although we had little emotional foundation, an exceptional man like him always drew attention, and I fell for him at first sight, fully dedicating myself to him.

But on our wedding day, Chandler threw out the cake I had made.

He had even scrunched his brow in distaste.

“Don’t make these anymore, I don’t like deserts. They’re always too sweet for my taste.”

I never baked again.

He was a man of rules and everything had to align with the standards in his mind.

To accommodate him, I sacrificed many of my desires, constantly reassuring myself that it was just who Chandler was.

I believed that once we had decided to walk through life together, we needed to learn how to tolerate each other.

Who would have thought that all these years, I was the only one practicing tolerance?

Pauline’s return shattered all of his rules in an instant.

At first, I felt jealousy and anger. I even shouted at him during our arguments.

What I received in return was his irritation and impatience.

“Are you ever going to stop?” he had asked.

“Just because I married you doesn’t mean I love you. I just needed someone to settle down with. So can you stop taking yourself so seriously?”

His words shattered my bruised heart.

I had initially planned to file for divorce, but at that critical moment, I discovered I was pregnant.

For the sake of our child, I forced myself to endure every grievance. But fate had other plans, and I was diagnosed with cancer.

For a long time, he cared for me meticulously. I thought I was witnessing true love through adversity.

I believed he had genuinely fallen for me.

But now, as I reflected on it all, I realized that I was nothing more than a tool to him.

I was merely a means for him to appease his parents.

I was also the instrument he used to help Pauline secure the recognition she desired.

He had never loved me.

My mom came to collect my body.

She brought two coffins with her. Outside, a vehicle stood ready to transport us.

When Pauline appeared, my mom immediately rushed up to her.

She excitedly grasped Pauline’s hand.

“Oh my God! Is that you, Mariah? Did you come back to see me?”

My mom had mistaken Pauline for me.

It was understandable. I had also been shocked when I first saw Pauline. Her resemblance to me was uncanny.

Reflecting on it later, I realized that Chandler must have chosen me for that very reason.

In a sense, I had become Pauline's substitute.

Surprised, Pauline let out a shriek and instinctively pushed my mom away.

My mom fell to the ground, her elbow scraping against the hard concrete. It left a long trail of blood.

She seemed oblivious to the pain and lunged forward to grab Pauline’s leg.

“Oh, Mariah! I can’t bear to lose you!” she sobbed uncontrollably.

My heart ached and I rushed forward to embrace my mom, but my arms passed right through her body.

I couldn’t do anything and helplessly watched as the scene unfolded.

In the struggle, Pauline’s cake fell to the ground.

Enraged, she slapped my mom across the face. “Crazy woman! Are you sick? I’m Pauline!

“That Mariah looking like me is an insult! How dare you mistake me for her?”

My mom snapped to attention after the slap. She trembled as she stood up.

Just as she opened her mouth, Pauline’s expression changed abruptly, and she began to cry with feigned innocence.

“It’s all my fault, Mrs. Corey! I shouldn’t have held onto Chandler as I did, but I haven’t rested in days, and it’s my birthday. I just wanted him to spend time with me…

“If you’re angry, then hit me! Just don’t hurt yourself!”

She turned and fell into Chandler’s embrace.

His face had darkened in anger.

“Look, Mrs. Corey, I’ve tolerated you because I respect you as an elder but bullying Pauline like this is a bit excessive, don’t you think?

“You should know that all of Mariah’s special medication comes from Pauline. She could have cut off her supply at any time!'

At those words, my mom raised her bloodshot eyes and let out a hoarse scream from her throat, “Cut it off! Go ahead!

“It doesn’t matter as Mariah won’t need it anymore—”

She turned to point at the two coffins, her eyes filled with sorrow as she said, “She’s dead!”