Chapter 2

Once the effects of the sedative wore off, I found myself in a regular hospital ward.

The infection in my amputated leg had caused a fever, leaving me feeling miserable all over.

The head nurse walked in holding a notice and tossed two boxes of antibiotics onto my bed.

“Chief Physician Cole said the hospital’s resources are to be prioritized for Ms. Isla Mercer. You only have a minor injury, so take some medicine and deal with it yourself!”

I stared at the medicine and let out a cold laugh.

To them, losing a leg was nothing more than a minor injury.

That evening, the door opened, and Caleb walked in with a lawyer.

The lawyer took out a document and handed it directly to me.

“Ms. Whitaker, this is a medical liability waiver regarding the treatment you received after the car accident.

“Once you sign it and acknowledge that the amputation was voluntary, Dr. Cole will not only be exempt from medical liability, but you will also receive compensation.”

I was so furious that I laughed.

I abruptly pulled back the covers, exposing my amputated leg wrapped tightly in gauze, and stared at Caleb.

“Caleb, Mom made you promise to protect me before she died!

“Is this how you protect your own sister?”

Caleb’s eyes swept over my amputated leg, and his face twitched. But he quickly turned his head away.

“Don’t bring Mom into this!

“If it weren’t for Isla saving my life back then, I would have died at the bottom of that cliff!

“You can still live with one less leg. Isla, on the other hand, is dying. Can’t you be a little more understanding?”

His words made me so disgusted that I trembled.

Struggling, I pulled out my phone. I wanted to contact Dr. David Warren, the specialist treating my cancer, and ask him to retrieve the original copy of my medical records.

The moment I unlocked my phone, I discovered that Adrian had added Isla to the family group chat.

Isla sent a screenshot to the group.

“I know Natalie must be devastated about losing her leg, but why does she have to question my terminal illness? If giving her my illness would make her feel better, I’m willing to admit it.”

Less than two minutes later, the family group exploded.

My aunt sent a voice message directly.

“Natalie Whitaker, you’re truly heartless! You’re already crippled, yet you still refuse to do anything good. How dare you even try to steal the bad luck of someone who’s dying!”

I don’t know where my uncle got it, but he sent a photo of me lying on a hospital bed with blood all over my face.

“This is what happens to an evil woman. Even heaven couldn’t stand watching her, so it took her leg!”

I stared at the insults on the screen, feeling as though I couldn’t breathe.

Then a private message from Adrian popped up. It contained a newly revised divorce agreement.

“The house in the city will be transferred to Isla free of charge and used as her private sterile recovery room.

“Also, the commercial property Mom left you will be used to cover Isla’s expensive future medical expenses.

“Sign it immediately. Don’t force me to take legal action.”

I gritted my teeth, took screenshots of all those ridiculous agreements, and sent them to my best friend, Jenna Quinn.

Five minutes later, Jenna called me, her voice filled with panic.

“Natalie, Adrian used your status as the family member of a critically ill patient to apply for a freeze on all the accounts under your name!

“You can’t withdraw a single cent from your accounts now.

“Listen to me. Focus on staying alive and getting your health back first. We’ll deal with the legal fight afterward!”

After hanging up, the cancer in my body flared up under the stress.

The pain was so intense that I rolled off the hospital bed and curled up on the floor, trembling.

I desperately pressed the emergency call button on the wall.

Nurses came and went in the hallway, yet not one of them opened my door.

The woman accompanying the patient in the bed beside mine munched on sunflower seeds and came over with her phone.

“Oh, you’re the wicked woman who bullied her terminally ill best friend?

“Isla is livestreaming right now! She says you’ve been threatening her!”

On the screen, Isla sat on her hospital bed, crying so pitifully that tears streamed down her face.

The comments had already spiraled out of control. Netizens had dug up all my personal information, and virtual funeral wreaths flooded the screen.

“May Natalie Whitaker rest in peace!”

“Get that one-legged witch dead already!”

I stared at the screen, clenched my teeth, and swallowed the blood rising in my throat.