The following day, I went alone to the hospital to collect a detailed report.
As I turned the corner of the OB-GYN department, a familiar tearful voice reached my ears.
“Daniel, your wife is pregnant. What about my baby?”
It was Olivia’s voice.
Daniel’s so-called “sister figure”—and my supposed best friend.
I froze in place, my body rigid, cold sweat running down my skin.
Then Daniel’s voice followed.
“Silly girl, she’s having a daughter. The Scott family doesn’t recognize daughters.”
“Don’t worry, the family has arranged a car accident. Clean and neat—it’ll look like an accident.”
“You’re the one carrying the Scott heir. Once she loses that ‘burden,’ I’ll divorce her and marry you.”
“By then, you’ll be the rightful wife of the Scott family.”
The hallway fell silent for a few seconds before Olivia’s sobs shifted into a smile.
“Really, Daniel? You’re not lying to me?”
“When have I ever lied to you?” Daniel’s voice dripped with a tenderness that could drown—but for me, it was an icy plunge into despair.
My world spun. Every sweet moment between us instantly twisted into the most nauseating of lies.
I clutched the cold wall just to keep myself from collapsing.