Randall stood beneath the light, staring at me coldly, as if he were judging a criminal.
“If it weren’t for your bullying, how could Samantha have been frightened like that?”
“She nearly miscarried just now. Do you have any idea?”
When he said this, his voice was thick with barely suppressed anger—yet there wasn’t a trace of hesitation.
“Now we’re only asking your brother to donate a little blood. What’s the big deal?”
What’s the big deal?
I looked at the man before me—the man I had loved for seven years, the man I had compromised for again and again, forgiven again and again—and suddenly he felt terrifyingly unfamiliar.
That was when I finally lost control.
“Randall, are you even human?”
My voice trembled, but every word was bitten out hard.
“That’s my brother. He’s still sick. A blood transfusion could kill him!”
“For Samantha’s sake, you don’t even care about human life anymore?”
“Where is your conscience, Randall?!”
I was almost screaming. My chest felt like it had been ripped open alive, every breath tearing with pain.
But Randall suddenly let out a cold laugh.
There was no anger at being exposed, no shame at being condemned—only blatant impatience, like he was looking at a hysterical troublemaker.
“Enough with the nonsense. You keep talking about me and Samantha, but I haven’t even asked you yet—who was the man who took you away last night?!”
I froze. My heart clenched tightly. Instinctively, I thought he had found out about me asking Steven for help.
Randall said coldly,
“My mom said you were taken away by another man.”
“So,” he stared at me icily, “all this drama lately—breaking up, withdrawing the lawsuit, losing control emotionally—isn’t it just because you’ve got someone else outside?”
“You already planned yourself a way out, didn’t you? That’s why you dare to act so self-righteous now?”
“Tara, have you forgotten who you are?”
Sentence after sentence, pure distortion of the truth.
All my breakdowns, my despair, my resistance after being driven into a corner—he reduced it all to one accusation:
That I had cheated.
I looked at him and suddenly wanted to laugh.
But the laughter got stuck in my throat, no matter how hard I tried. In the end, all that remained was complete and utter shattering.
“I fainted.”
“If I hadn’t called for help myself, if I had waited for your parents to suddenly grow a conscience one day while I lay in your house, I might already be dead!”
For a brief moment, Randall’s expression darkened.
For that single second, I foolishly thought—did he finally feel guilty?
But it really was only a second.
Very quickly, he returned to that calm, matter-of-fact expression.
“I don’t care.”
He said it with unsettling composure, as if announcing a decision made long ago.
“Right now, Samantha needs a blood transfusion.”
“Your brother’s blood type is compatible. This is your punishment.”
The moment those words landed, my entire body went cold.
I clenched my teeth so hard my mouth filled with the taste of blood.
“Then take mine!”
“Take my blood!”
“I have a rare blood type too!”
For a brief instant, Randall’s gaze flickered. He hesitated.
But soon enough, he looked away. He raised a hand in a small gesture, his tone cold and clipped.
“In that case, take her over.”
The next second, hospital staff restrained me and prepared me for the transfusion.
The moment the needle pierced my vein, my body jolted violently. A chill shot straight up my spine.
Cold fluid flowed out through the tube, and it felt as though I was being hollowed out, bit by bit.
Halfway through, the doctor frowned and lowered his voice.
“That’s already quite a lot. Her physical condition isn’t good. If we keep drawing—”
“How much does Samantha need?”
Randall interrupted him, not even glancing at me.
The doctor hesitated.
“In theory… the more, the better. It’ll be more stable.”
“Then keep drawing.”
Randall’s voice was flat, devoid of any emotion.
“Don’t stop.”
At that moment, I didn’t even have the strength to open my eyes.
Cold spread through me. My vision blurred in waves. The sounds around me felt muffled, as if filtered through water.
As my blood was drained away bit by bit, my consciousness collapsed inch by inch with it.
Just as I was about to pass out completely, a hand suddenly covered mine, gripping my palm.
Randall lowered his head, his voice pressed low.
As though he were granting me the last scraps of tenderness.
“This is the last time, Tara.”
“Once we get married, everything will get better.”
“Just endure it.”
I kept my eyes closed.
I didn’t answer.
I didn’t even have the strength to answer.
Because at that very moment, the last remaining fragment of feeling I had for him shattered completely.
As soon as the procedure ended, Randall immediately went to attend to Samantha.
I was pushed into a ward and slept for an entire day.
When I woke up again, there was no emotion left in me—only a firm resolve to repay everything in kind.
Three days before I left, behind Randall’s back, Erwin and I successfully sent my brother abroad and transferred him to an extremely private hospital.
Two days before I left, I retrieved the surveillance footage that had previously been installed in the Hendershots household.
The recordings clearly captured the affair between William and Samantha’s mother—and even accidentally recorded them talking about their illegitimate child outside the marriage.
I anonymously sent the video to everyone in both the Hendershots and Massrys, and simultaneously forwarded it to several reporters.
On the morning of my final day, I posted a scheduled thread on the hospital’s internal forum.
I wrote in detail how, as an ophthalmologist, my hands—the very hands I relied on to survive—had been systematically destroyed.
And how there was a certain type of eye surgery that, at present, only I was capable of performing in the entire country.
At the same time, I submitted to the court all the evidence regarding my lawsuit against Samantha’s father, as well as proof of Randall’s intent to endanger my brother’s life.
During those three days, Randall stayed by Samantha’s side the entire time, accompanying her through her pregnancy stabilization.
If he had spared even a little attention for me, things would never have gone this smoothly.
