The door swung open, and a doctor strode in.

I recognized him. Matteo Skinner was one of Tyler's sleazy friends.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his face a mask of regret. "Karl's eyesight is likely gone for good."

He handed me a diagnosis report. In my last life, that same paper had sealed my fate. I'd swallowed their lies whole, never suspecting Tyler had roped him into forging it.

"Karl's too young to live in darkness forever," Matteo went on, piling on the fake sympathy. "A cornea transplant is his only shot."

Tyler jumped in, playing the devoted dad. "Money's no object. I'd sell the house, the cars, everything for him."

Matteo nodded gravely. "Problem is, the hospital is out of corneas. It could be a two- to five-year wait."

Right on cue, Karl burst into tears. "I don't wanna be blind, Mom. Save me."

His wails were gut-wrenching, designed to break any mother's heart. But I knew better this time.

"There is one option," Matteo said, his tone heavy. "A family member could donate."

"Mom, please," Karl pleaded desperately. "I can't live like this."

Tyler pulled me aside, his eyes glistening with fake tears. "He's just a kid with his whole life ahead. As parents, we'd take any pain to help him, right? A mother's love is the strongest force in the world."

I cut through his manipulative bullshit. "So, what exactly are you saying?"

He hesitated, then went for it. "Maybe you could donate your corneas to Karl. I swear, within a year, I will give everything to find a donor for you."

I stared at him, disgust curling in my gut. In my last life, I'd fallen for this sob story and signed the donation papers while Rachel waited in the next room, ready to take my eyes.

I gasped, playing the part. "If I do that, I'll be blind. How am I supposed to take care of you and Karl?"

"Don't worry, babe," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "I'll take care of you both."

That was a load of crap. In my last life, he'd let me die.

Karl grabbed my hand. "Mom, help me. I'll take care of you, I swear. Don't you trust me?"

I stayed silent, which pissed Tyler off. His mask slipped, and he snapped, "What kind of mom doesn't sacrifice for her kid? Where's your maternal instinct?"

When sweet-talking failed, he tried to guilt-trip me. I reached into my purse and pulled out a fake medical report I'd prepared that morning.

"It's not that I don't want to, but I've got viral hepatitis," I said. "I'm not eligible to donate."

"What?" Tyler's face crumpled like a cheap paper bag.

He shot a desperate look at Matteo, who gave a reluctant nod, confirming my statement.

I twisted the knife. "A father's love is just as strong, Tyler. Why don't you donate your corneas to Karl?"

"What? No way!" Tyler sputtered, waving his hands.

"What's the problem?" I pressed. "You said you'd do anything for Karl. Backing out already?"

He forced a stiff grin, his teeth practically grinding. "I'd do anything for him. It's just..."

I didn't let him finish. "Great. I'll find the doctor to book your surgery right away."

I took one step toward the door before he yanked me back. "If I go blind, who's gonna put food on the table? We need to think this through."

I spun to Karl. "I wanted to help, but I couldn't. Your dad is just flat-out refusing. If you're pissed, take it up with him."

"Let's go home for now," Karl muttered. "We'll deal with the surgery later."

Tyler jumped on it. "Yeah, you two handle the discharge papers. I gotta talk to Matteo."

I watched him scurry off, no doubt rushing to soothe Rachel in the next room. I slipped out after him, keeping to the shadows.

"Rachel, hang tight," Tyler whispered. "Stephanie's got some health issues. She can't donate yet."

Rachel collapsed into his arms, sobbing. "I can't take it, Tyler. I'll never see your sweet smile or Karl's goofy grin again."

"Your eyes are too gorgeous to stay dark," he cooed, stroking her hair. "I'll make sure Stephanie signs that donation form."

"But if she goes blind, won't I be the villain?" Rachel muttered.

"You're a rising star in the art world," Tyler said with a smug chuckle. "Her corneas helping you create masterpieces? That's her damn privilege."

I nearly laughed out loud at his audacity. I'd like to see what other tricks they'd pull.

Back home, Tyler dragged Karl into the study for a private chat.

I plopped onto the couch and opened the surveillance app on my phone. That morning, I'd paid a guy to install hidden cameras all over the house that morning. Now every corner was under my watch.

In the study, Karl tore off his fake bandages, his face red with frustration. "What now, Dad? I can't keep playing blind forever."

Tyler's jaw tightened. "Keep up the act. Mope around, throw tantrums, and act like your life's over. Make your mom feel sorry. She'll scramble to fix her hepatitis and donate those corneas. You'll just have to suck it up for a while."

Karl nodded. "Anything for Rachel."

His words hit like a punch. I had raised nothing but a traitor.

I'd cooked his meals, bought him clothes, and driven him to training classes, hoping he would shine one day. But now, he was plotting against me for another woman.

The next day, Karl leaned into his role. He turned sullen, barely speaking, and started smashing things. By day three, he'd locked himself in his room, screaming he'd starve himself to death.

I didn't flinch. Instead, I dialed up the fanciest hotel in town and ordered a spread fit for royalty.

I was starving, and this way, I didn't have to cook for that ungrateful brat. We'd see who could hold out longer.

The aroma of sizzling steak and garlic butter woke Karl.

He hadn't eaten anything, but his stomach was roaring. He flung open his door and froze at the sight of me tearing into a lobster tail with one hand and a king crab leg with the other.

The dining table groaned under a feast of gourmet dishes.

"My life's falling apart, and you're stuffing your face?" Karl roared, his voice cracking with hunger as he swallowed hard. "Doesn't my pain mean anything to you?"

I dropped the crab leg with a satisfying clunk and fixed him with a cold stare. "How do you know I'm eating?"

Karl stiffened, his hand darting to his eyes. "I-I smelled it."

Then he lost it, sweeping his arms across the table, sending plates and food crashing to the floor. He grabbed a kitchen knife, waving it like a maniac. "I don't wanna be blind! What's the point of living? I'd rather die!"

The blade slashed through the air, catching my arm. Blood gushed as I stared at the mess—shattered dishes, spilled food, and my arm dripping red.

I stepped toward him, and he flinched. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

That night, when Tyler walked in, he was stunned by the scene. "What the heck happened?"

"Honey, you're home," I said with a sugary smile, rising from the couch.

Tyler gaped at Karl, who was tied up with extension cords. His face was bruised and swollen; he was barely conscious.

"What's going on? Why's he tied up like this?" Tyler demanded.

Karl wailed, "Dad, help me! Mom tried to kill me."

I snatched a broom and swung it, the bristles whistling through the air. Karl yelped, and I stuffed a sweaty gym sock in his mouth to shut him up. His screams turned to muffled whimpers.

"Look at him, Tyler," I said, my voice dripping with mock sorrow. "He's blind because we let him run wild. If we don't get a handle on him now, he'll end up dead in a ditch."

Tyler reached for the cords, but I grabbed his arm. "You wanna ruin him for good? We've been too soft, and look where it got us. I'm taking charge of his discipline. I've called Willow Academy, and they're sending someone to pick him up. They've got blind instructors to help him adjust."

Willow Academy was infamous for its brutal methods. Electroshock therapy was their specialty.

Before Tyler could argue, the doorbell rang. Staff from the academy stormed in, grabbed Karl, and hauled him into a van.

Several staff members stormed in, grabbed Karl, and hauled him into a van.

"Dad, save me!" Karl screamed.

"He is just a kid. He doesn't need that kind of place," Tyler protested.

"Well then, I'll call my dad and tell him you're quitting your job to stay home and play full-time dad," I said.

Tyler was a vice president at my dad's company, a position he'd kissed ass for years to get. No way he'd trade it for housework.

"You're right. He needs tough love," Tyler quickly backpedaled. "I'm with you."

This man was spineless. When his interests were on the line, he'd throw anyone under the bus, Karl included.

Just then, my assistant called, "Madam, we've got an emergency. A contract's screwed up, and we need you here immediately."

I'd been stuck at home for days, and the company was probably a dumpster fire. Tyler, thrilled to get rid of me, practically shoved me out the door.

At the office, Sarah handed me the contract and a glass of water. "Sorry to drag you in so late, Madam."

"No worries. The company's my priority," I said, chugging the water.

My throat was raw from sparring with those two vipers.

Sarah slipped out, shutting the door softly. Curious about Tyler's next move, I pulled up the surveillance app on my phone.

A woman in a white dress floated into view ten minutes after I left. It was none other than Rachel. She and Tyler shared a passionate kiss in our house.

"What about Karl?" Rachel murmured, her voice tinged with worry. "Willow Academy's a nightmare. He can't handle that."

"This plan is falling apart," Tyler sighed. "I gotta move faster."

"How else can we get her to donate willingly?" she said.

Tyler lit a cigarette. "A dead woman can't say no. I paid off her assistant. Sarah just texted that she had spiked Stephanie's water with enough drugs to knock out an elephant. All we gotta do is get her to the hospital. Matteo is already waiting."

My heart stopped. I stared at the empty glass on my desk, my head spinning like a carnival ride.

"I can't pass out. Not now," I groaned.

The room was fading fast, and I was teetering on the edge of consciousness.

Then a knock came at the door, followed by Tyler's voice, smooth and slimy. "Honey, you in there? Just checking on you."