Nobody knew how long Daisie had been unconscious before the pain woke her again.
A sharp, throbbing ache pulsed from the wound on her right side, as if a blunt knife were twisting deep inside her flesh.
She barely shifted before a familiar voice broke the silence—low, tight, and edged with urgency.
“You’re awake?”
Turning her head, she saw Willard sitting beside her bed, his tall frame hunched slightly in the chair. His brows were drawn tight, his gaze fixed on her with what almost looked like… concern.
Her lips twitched into a stiff, bitter smile.
How ironic.
The man who had forced her onto the operating table, taken her kidney, and driven her father to his death now sat there pretending to care.
She closed her eyes, unwilling to even look at him.
“The doctor said your emotions got worked up and the stitches reopened,” Willard said with a sigh, sounding helpless. “Daisie, what exactly are you trying to do?”
‘Trying to do?’ she asked back inwardly.
Her eyes snapped open, burning with fury.
“My dad’s dead. You think I should be celebrating?” Her voice trembled with anger. “If it weren’t for Kendra, he wouldn’t have died at all!”
Willard’s frown deepened. He let out another sigh.
“Every surgery carries risk. Dr. Wilson is one of the best specialists in the field. No one wanted this outcome. You can’t blame Kendra for that. She was only trying to help.”
“Trying to help?” Daisie let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Willard, do you even realize? Kendra was never sick! Her kidney’s perfectly fine! She didn’t need mine at all!”
His expression darkened immediately. “What nonsense are you talking about?”
“I’m not making it up!” she shot back, her voice shaking with anger. “She faked her illness! She lied to you! She admitted it herself! She did it just to get back at me!”
“Enough!”
Willard shot to his feet, disappointment and disgust flashing in his eyes.
“Jeez, Daisie, I used to think you were just foolish. I didn’t realize you could be this cruel! Kendra went out of her way to bring in an expert from abroad to save your father. She’d just had her own transplant and was still weak, but she came to visit you anyway! And you? Instead of being grateful, you accuse her of faking her illness? Have you completely lost your conscience?”
Daisie trembled as she stared at him.
“Willard,” she said, her voice hoarse, “do you even dare to check the security footage? Right here, in this room, check what she did and said to me yesterday! Watch it yourself, and tell me if she looks sick! Tell me if she’s really not pretending!”
She pointed toward the security camera mounted in the corner.
Willard followed her gaze. For a fleeting moment, doubt flickered across his face.
Looking at how certain Daisie seemed, he contemplated, ‘Could it be… that Kendra really has been pretending after all?’
