Chapter 4

A kind passerby took me to a small clinic on the outskirts of the city.

The elderly doctor cut open my pant leg and sucked in a sharp breath.

The wound from my amputation was horribly infected, with torn flesh and exposed tissue.

“Miss, the infection is far too severe. You need to be transferred to a major hospital immediately. I can’t treat this here!”

But my bank accounts had been frozen, and I didn’t have a single penny on me.

With trembling hands, I placed the small cross my mother had left me on the table.

“Doctor... I don’t have any money left. Please take this as collateral. I don’t want to be transferred.

“Please, just give me some antibiotics first. Help me bring down the fever.”

The television in the clinic was broadcasting breaking news.

Isla was lying in a hospital bed at the city hospital with an oxygen tube under her nose, crying to the cameras.

“I just wanted to spend my final days in peace.

“But my best friend cruelly destroyed my last wish.”

The footage then cut to Adrian, dressed in his white coat, openly making a statement.

“As a doctor, I will never tolerate such reprehensible behavior.

“I will fully cooperate with the police in investigating the severe emotional and physical abuse Natalie inflicted on a terminally ill patient.”

The host then abruptly interrupted with another piece of breaking news.

It was a statement Caleb had posted in the family group chat.

“Effective immediately, Natalie Whitaker is officially removed from the family registry! Even if she dies out there, she brought it upon herself. No one is allowed to help her!”

I leaned against the wall.

I watched the older brother who had once kissed my face and promised to protect me for the rest of my life.

Despair burned my heart to ashes.

I borrowed the clinic’s landline and called the medical records department at the city hospital.

A staff member’s cold voice came through the receiver.

“I’m sorry. Your request for your medical records was denied by your attending physician, Adrian Cole.”

The phone slipped from my hand.

At that moment, the elderly doctor walked out holding the test results he had rushed through.

His brows were tightly furrowed.

“Miss, you have a severe infection, but you also have late-stage cancer. However, there’s no record of any cancer treatment in the system.”

I suddenly looked up.

The elderly doctor turned the diagnostic system screen toward me.

It showed that my follow-up appointment for my cancer treatment had already been canceled.

The note read:

[Family member signed on the patient’s behalf. Patient refused treatment.]

The employee ID of the person who made the change belonged to Adrian.

No wonder my condition had gotten so much worse without the hospital ever notifying me.

Adrian had known about my terminal illness all along.

He was the one who truly wanted me dead.

That night, the infection in my amputated limb spread, triggering sepsis.

During the final ten minutes before I lost consciousness, I sent an email containing all the evidence I had gathered to Jenna.

After that, I grabbed the elderly doctor by the sleeve and pointed to the small cross I had left as collateral on the table.

“If I die... please make sure you send this cross to Jenna.”

A faint green light flickered from the base of the cross.

After saying those final words, I collapsed onto the metal-framed bed and breathed my last.

Meanwhile, Adrian was sitting in a bridal shop in the city center, accompanying Isla as she tried on wedding dresses.

His phone rang.

Seeing the familiar number, he answered impatiently.

“Natalie, what are you trying to pull this time? I’m warning you—”

“Mr. Cole.”

The elderly doctor’s voice on the other end was cold.

“This is a clinic on the outskirts of the city. Your wife, Natalie Whitaker, has died from sepsis caused by a severe infection in her wound.

“Please come and claim her body.”

Adrian suddenly went rigid.

Just then, a nurse from the city hospital hurriedly arrived at the bridal shop by taxi and handed him a document that had been laminated again.

“Dr. Cole! The diagnostic report that Ms. Mercer brought with her—the stains along the edges have been cleaned off!”

Adrian lowered his head.

Clearly printed on the late-stage cancer diagnosis were three words:

Natalie Whitaker.