“Bah, the child is dead, and she’s still pretending to be motherly. Shameless!”
Suddenly, with a loud bang!, fireworks lit up the night sky.
The tallest electronic billboard on the Carson Building flashed the words “Congratulations to Keri Gilbert on her recovery and long life” to all of Anaheim City.
I looked up at the window, and the brilliant fireworks stabbed my eyes.
“It’s frustrating how unfair life is. Some children recover and the whole city celebrates, while others are killed by their own mothers.”
“True. Mr. Carson really treasures that Mrs. Gilbert and her daughter. Anyone born into that family would be lucky.”
“Haha, just don’t get reborn as someone like her.”
Their words cut like knives, slicing through my heart and gut.
Inside the operating room, my children's cries echoed in my head.
They were only five—so afraid of needles they’d bury themselves in my arms, yet they were drained alive.
Even as they trembled and whimpered, they still tried to soothe me:
“Mom, don’t cry. The baby will feel sad. Baby will lie down and be good.”
I was worthless. I couldn’t even protect my own children...
Everything went dark. A metallic taste rose in my throat, and I collapsed onto the cold hospital floor.
At that moment, Mrs. Carson arrived and saw it all—the blood, the lifeless children.
The color drained from her face. If the housekeeper hadn’t caught her, she would’ve collapsed too.
“This was Daryl’s doing? That beast! That monster! Get someone here—I’ll break his legs myself!”
But when the housekeeper turned on his phone, all he saw were trending headlines:
“Young Master Carson Spares No Expense to Make Mrs. Gilbert and Daughter Smile”
“Top Pick for Rebirth: Be Keri”
Even Daryl posted: “As long as Keri is safe, I’d give up everything.”
At Jennie’s lavish recovery banquet, 9,999 red roses caught everyone’s attention.
She raised her hand, flashing a pink diamond ring worth tens of millions, and posted:
“Life is simple. Not loving is the original sin.”
It was a direct slap in the face to me—Mrs. Carson.
Over the years, she had pulled stunts like this again and again, and every time, I was the one left ridiculed.
Mrs. Carson grabbed the phone and dialed Daryl.
Jennie’s sultry voice came through:
“Honey, tonight I’ll please you however you like…”
Everyone in the room stiffened, exchanging silent, knowing looks.
Their gazes turned toward me—pity, scorn, mockery... and still, it wasn’t enough.
Mrs. Carson trembled with fury, her voice trembling as she snapped,
“You little brat! Do you even know where your wife and children are?”
Daryl paused, sounding irritated.
“How should I know? Go ask Darla Parker about those trivial things.”
“Your son is dead! Get to the hospital now!”
The old woman lost control, her face soaked in tears.
A moment of silence.
Then Jennie’s sweet voice came again:
“Daryl, I’m cold. You promised tonight was just for me…”
Daryl responded in a low voice,
“Mom, don’t believe Darla. She lies constantly. Don’t be manipulated by her.”
The so-called lie he referred to?
That his son had a fever and wanted to see him—but he twisted it as moral blackmail.
That it was just a school event, I asked him to attend—but he called it a manipulative setup.
The call ended.
I looked up at Mrs. Carson, my voice is hoarse.
“Auntie, you raised me. Please let me go. Without my child, I can’t stay in this family any longer.”
