When I dragged my body home after the surgery, the anesthesia still hadn't fully worn off. My fingertips trembled uncontrollably with each step I took.
The moment I pushed the door open, a sweet, cloying fragrance rushed toward me—the scent Sabrina always wore.
She had deliberately filled the entire house with it, as if marking her territory… as if provoking me.
I had disappeared for an entire day, and Sebastian didn't even notice.
If he cared at all, he wouldn't have gone a whole day without a single call.
I let out a small, self-mocking laugh.
Of course—wasn't this the result I should have expected all along?
What right did I have to feel torn apart?
Sabrina sat on the sofa, leaning lazily against a pillow. She lifted her gaze, looking at me as though waiting to watch a good show.
"You're back so late?" Her voice was soft, but the tail end curled with mockery. "What, were you reluctant to leave that drunkard?"
I lifted my head, my eyes flat and emotionless. "It was arranged by you."
I didn't even bother to ask.
A faint crease appeared between her brows—clearly, my indifference disappointed her. She must have imagined me returning in utter humiliation, broken and weeping.
"Did that idiot take the money and do nothing?!" she muttered, irritation sharpening her tone.
Then she rose and glared down at me.
"So what if it was me? Do you think you can fight me? I was being kind, but you don't even appreciate it. Looks like I haven't taught you enough."
I stared at her, voice low and steady.
"Sabrina, you will pay the price."
Her smile froze for a split second.
Then she stepped closer and snapped, "Pay the price? Don't make me laugh! Do you, an orphan, understand what money and power mean? As long as I'm alive, no one can touch me! If I want to deal with you, you won't live to see tomorrow's sun!"
She sneered, her eyes gleaming with ridicule.
"Oh, I get it. You must be devastated after seeing the child between me and Sebastian, right? Seven years of pestering him, and you only managed to have one child—who was sickly, unlike my son, who's perfectly healthy."
My breath faltered.
Seeing my momentary shadow, Sabrina instantly lit up—as if she'd just won a game.
She leaned in, eyes sparkling with cruelty. "That's right."
She casually adjusted her rolled-up sleeves, then smiled as though remembering something amusing. "Didn't your son almost get matching bone marrow back then?"
My hand, still holding a towel, paused mid-air.
Her lips curled into a sweet, vicious arc.
"Tsk. And you begged on your knees for that match."
"Do you remember?" she drawled, shaking a teacup as if discussing something trivial. "I said I needed a bone marrow transplant. Sebastian was so terrified something would happen to me—"
"—that when I hinted at your son's bone marrow being compatible, he immediately altered the donation contract and listed me as the beneficiary."
My breath tightened painfully.
Even knowing the truth already, hearing it again felt like being stabbed all over.
My baby… because his father adored his mistress more than his own child… lost his only chance to live…
Sabrina laughed, mocking me as though I were some pathetic creature.
"And the funniest part?" she said lightly. "I didn't need it at all. I've always been perfectly healthy. I never needed any bone marrow transplant."
My voice trembled. "Then… that bone marrow—"
"Oh, it was annoying," she interrupted casually. "So I told the nurse to just throw it away."
Bang!
It felt as if someone had punched straight through my chest.
I stared at her, my voice hoarse. "What… did you say?"
Sabrina looked at the despair in my eyes and smiled even brighter. "I said—when your son was finally about to be saved, I threw the bone marrow away."
"Sabrina!"
I couldn't stop myself from crying out.
"Oh, you still have a temper? How laughable."
Half-reclining on the sofa, watching me like I was a clown.
"People like you from the orphanage have cheap lives. And your son? A commoner's brat. Was his life worth anything? Why be so dramatic? Dying early was a relief for him."
I stepped forward abruptly, pain tearing through my chest.
"That was a living child!"
She rolled her eyes with open disdain.
"He was just a burden. Better off dead. What, are you so angry you want to hit me?"
My whole body trembled.
And then she laughed.
"But you probably don't have the guts. You've lived your whole life as your sister's substitute, haven't you? Hahaha—"
The words felt like knives twisting in my heart.
"Sabrina," I forced out, my voice shaking, "insult my son or my sister one more time. Try it."
"What's wrong with calling the two of them what they were?" She grinned, her eyes gleaming with twisted satisfaction. "Dead trash."
Then she reached toward the Lego set on the coffee table.
The one Jacob and I spent the last three months of his life building together.
My voice shot up. "Sabrina, don't you—"
She hooked her finger under the corner of the Lego castle and chuckled.
"My favorite thing..."
"—is watching the heartbroken faces of people like you."
And with a sharp shove—
Crash!
The Lego fell to the floor, exploding into a thousand pieces.
For a moment, I saw my son's last breath shatter on an operating table.
A rush of heat surged from my ears to my skull.
I raised my hand—and slapped her across the face with all my strength.
At that moment, I only had one thought—I wanted to tear Sabrina apart.
