As soon as they forced my fingerprint onto the surrogacy contract, Mr. and Mrs. Carter didn’t even glance my way. They turned to Liam instead.
“Stitch her up properly,” Mrs. Carter said coldly. “She still needs to be able to give birth again later.”
Liam nodded, unbothered. “Have you signed the surgical consent form?”
Mrs. Carter frowned. “Why would we need to sign anything?”
I spoke calmly from the table. “I’m divorced from Sean now. That makes the two of you my only direct relatives.”
Mr. Carter’s face lit up. “You finally divorced him? That means he and Vanessa can be together—true love, at last!”
I didn’t respond. I just reminded them again, “Don’t forget to sign the consent form. I have no one else left.”
Mrs. Carter’s face twisted in rage. She slapped me so hard my head snapped to the side, crashing against the metal edge of the operating table.
“You’re cursing Vanessa, aren’t you?” she screamed. “She’s your sister, isn’t she?”
Blood streamed down from my forehead, blurring my vision, hot and sticky in my eyes. Through the crimson haze, her once-gentle face had transformed into a monster’s.
Mr. Carter rushed over—not to help me, but in panic. “Her bleeding won't affect the quality of the umbilical cord blood, right?”
Liam shook his head. “No, it won’t.”
Only then did they relax, their expressions twisting with disgust as they turned back to me. “We don’t know how we could have given birth to such a cruel, heartless daughter.”
They signed the consent form with painful ease and I whispered to them, “Daddy… Mommy… El El will always love you.”
It was a line I used to say when I was little. Anytime they wept over losing Vanessa, I’d say that and they’d hold me tight, whispering they didn’t know how they’d survive without me.
And now, Mr. and Mrs. Carter were just stunned and showed that expression of looking at an enemy again, “We can't afford your love.”
I smiled faintly. “Then give me a document to sever our parent-child relationship. From now on, you will only have Vanessa as your daughter.”
Mr. and Mrs. Carter didn't hesitate, there was no paper at hand, they even picked up a tissue and wrote the note of severing paternity.
Then they couldn't wait to press their handprints, “Since we're breaking it off, let's break it off cleanly,” she said. “You're not allowed to take the surname Carter and you're not allowed to use the name we gave our baby daughter anymore.”
“The Carter Family will be pure again without a toxic woman like you.”
And just like that, they walked away without a backward glance. My eyes stung. I couldn’t tell if it was the blood still dripping from my forehead… or tears I hadn’t realized were falling.
Liam injected the anaesthetic. My body went numb, but my mind remained painfully alert.
I felt the scalpel cut into me. I felt my child being pulled away.
The moment the cord was cut, a storm of agony ripped through me. My blood poured out onto the floor, forming a dark, growing river under the table.
Liam shouted my name, panicking. He hesitated, then made his choice—he put the newborn down and rushed out the door with the collected cord blood in his hands.
My baby, born premature, lay beside me—silent. Lifeless. I reached for him, stretching with all my might. And just before darkness swallowed me whole, I felt his tiny hand in mine.
In that flickering space between life and death, I heard the softest voice:
“Mommy, don’t cry.”
Tears poured down my cheeks. But my hand, now cold as snow, couldn’t warm his anymore.
“Baby… Mommy’s has come to stay with you.”
***
[Congratulations to the host. The Raider mission shift was successful.]
[Initiating regret-value calculation for three targets. Time remaining: 6 hours.]
My spirit floated above the table. My body lay there, drained and still.
But… my child’s soul was nowhere in sight.
The system told me I’d meet him again when the settlement was made.
So I waited.
For now, for the first time, I stayed silent and looked coldly at what the world looked like after my death.
Liam was the first to rush back.
Sweat drenched his forehead as he sprinted through the corridor—only to freeze at the doorway of the operating room, where blood had pooled into a dark, horrifying lake.
“Elena Carter! Don’t you dare sleep!” he shouted, voice cracking as he grabbed the defibrillator and slammed it against my chest.
“Aren’t you always the one fighting? Huh?
