I waited and waited, but Charles never came. When I finally called him, what I got instead was Lily's death sentence.
I wanted to rush out and confront Charles like a madwoman. The moment I burst through the door, I ran straight into his assistant, who fell to his knees at my feet, sobbing, telling me it was too late.
That beating heart had already been transplanted into Bryce's body.
They'd injected the pre-surgery drugs. The operation never happened. My Lily was gone forever.
Lily's smile, her laughter, her little voice—all of it tangled together with Charles's cold, clinical tone. Hatred crashed over me like a tidal wave.
I forced myself to stay calm. I turned around, went to Charles's office, and took the key to the medical records room.
A few minutes later, the surveillance footage of Charles performing Bryce's surgery was saved on my phone.
I curled up in the hospital corridor, watching the recording.
In the operating room, Charles issued his orders without a shred of hesitation:
"Transplant the donor heart into Bryce."
"But Dr. Abbott, this child doesn't need a transplant! This heart was meant for Lily—Lily can't wait any longer—"
"Shut up! A few meals from my wife and you forget whose side you're on?!"
"This heart goes to Bryce! Lily can wait for the next one!"
"If she can't handle a little hardship, she doesn't deserve to be my child!"
The hardship Bryce couldn't handle, Lily had to bear instead.
Charles. What a selfless, devoted Director Abbott.
I gripped my phone until my knuckles went white.
Charles. You killed Lily. And now your brilliant career is over.
After I made sure Lily was properly taken care of in the morgue, I dragged my exhausted body home.
The moment I opened the door, I saw Mia and Bryce sprawled across my sofa.
At the sound of the lock, Charles emerged from the kitchen wearing an apron.
"Althea, what are you standing there for? Hurry up and change your shoes—come help me in the kitchen!"
He gestured toward Mia and Bryce on the couch, a flicker of bashfulness crossing his face.
"Bryce's surgery was a success, so Mia brought him over to thank me. And you too, of course—his wonderful mentor's wife."
"Come on, don't just stand there. We have guests! Go make them feel welcome!"
"Oh, and I haven't seen Lily since I got home. Where did that girl run off to? Call her back—she should be here playing with Bryce!"
Mia looked up at me lazily from the sofa, wearing my slippers, her smile thin and reluctant.
Bryce's snack crumbs had fallen onto Lily's slippers, leaving a large greasy stain.
Lily had always been so careful about keeping things clean.
Humiliation upon humiliation pressed against my chest until I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't take it anymore.
I slammed the door with all my strength and pointed at Lily's empty room, screaming like a woman possessed:
"Charles! Lily is dead!"
In an instant, the lively room went deathly silent.
Charles froze.
He poked his head out from the kitchen and stared at me.
After a long moment, his voice turned ice-cold.
"Althea, this again? It's getting old. Bryce just got out of surgery, and you're going on about death? Who exactly are you putting on this show for?"
"Lily's been spoiled rotten by you. Guests come over and she's nowhere to be found—off running wild somewhere. If she doesn't want to come home that badly, then fine—don't come back at all! Mia and Bryce can sleep in her room tonight."
"And you, Althea—if you insist on ruining the mood, then you can leave too!"
He waved Bryce over from the sofa.
"Go on, Bryce. You've always wanted to sleep in your big sister Lily's room, haven't you? Tonight, it's all yours!"
The moment Bryce heard this, he scrambled off the couch and darted toward Lily's room.
Mia hurried after him.
