“Did I say anything wrong? Your dad is already dead—a useless lump of flesh—so what if it saved Buddy?”

I pulled out Mr. Hayes’s death certificate.

“Ethan Hayes, open your damn eyes and look carefully. The man who died was your father—not mine!”

Ethan’s pupils contracted, his body trembling slightly.

Chloe snatched my phone and threw it into a glass of water.

“Come on, the Photoshop marks are so obvious. Who are you trying to fool, a three-year-old?”

Ethan recovered, gripping my throat hard.

“Nora, do you even have a conscience?”

“My dad treated you better than he treated me, his own son, and you dare curse him?”

“No wonder your dad died so early—it was your own vile mouth that killed him!”

Mr. Hayes had collapsed with acute appendicitis but worried about interfering with Ethan’s work.

He didn’t want Ethan accused of nepotism, so he begged me to schedule him properly at St. Mary’s Medical Center.

By sheer bad luck, Ethan ended up performing the surgery.

An appendectomy wasn’t even a major procedure. Mr. Hayes had even asked me to go with him to the Farmers’ Market the next day to buy a turtle.

Who could have imagined he would lose his life instead?