Chapter 2

The next day, I woke to find the doctor standing beside my bed with my test results in hand. "Ms. Johansen, your condition is critical. The bone cancer has metastasized throughout your body. Why didn't you seek treatment sooner?"

I stared at the ceiling for a long time before answering. "I didn't want to."

At first, I had planned to undergo treatment only because Natalie couldn't do without me. After Natalie was gone, I no longer wanted to live either.

The doctor fell silent for a moment before urging me to be admitted as soon as possible.

I asked, "How much longer do I have?"

He didn't answer. He only told me not to think too much about it.

I nodded. Once the nurse left, I pulled out my IV and went to pay for my medication.

I still needed to keep some of it on hand. When the pain struck, it would at least spare me some suffering.

My steps came to an abrupt halt when I reached the payment hall.

A few steps away, Stefan was steadying Rachel. He carried a thermal food container in one hand and held her arm protectively with the other as he lowered his head to speak to her.

Rachel wore loose clothing, but her belly had not fully gone down yet. Anyone could tell she had recently given birth.

The two of them looked like a young married couple who had come in for a checkup.

I stared at Stefan's face as a sudden buzzing filled my head. Countless painful memories surged through my mind all at once.

Stefan saw me too. His body visibly stiffened, and his expression slowly changed.

The medical papers slipped from my hand and scattered across the floor. The diagnosis notice lay on top.

Rachel glanced down at it, and alarm flashed in her eyes. The next second, she suddenly knocked the thermal container out of his hand, spilling hot soup all over the papers.

They were soaked through in an instant.

She cried out in surprise, "Lauren, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

Stefan immediately turned to her. "Did it burn you?"

"No. My hand slipped."

She clutched his sleeve, but her gaze darted toward my face for the briefest instant.

That hadn't been an accident. She was afraid of what he might see.

Only then did Stefan look at me again. He stared as though he barely recognized me. Several seconds passed before he finally spoke.

"What happened to you?"

I didn't answer.

His gaze dropped to my wrist and the loose cuff of my sleeve. His brow slowly furrowed. Then he asked, "Where's Natalie? Why isn't she with you?"

I nearly laughed.

So he still didn't know. He had hidden from us for five years and spent those five years with Rachel, yet he didn't even know his own daughter was dead.

Just as I opened my mouth, my mother's voice came from behind me. "The child is at home, safe and sound."

I turned around. At some point, my mother and stepfather had arrived without my noticing. Their faces were tense, as though they had rushed over the moment they heard, just to stop me before I could say anything.

My mother grabbed me and forced a smile at Stefan. "She hasn't been well lately. Her moods have been unstable, and she says things without thinking. I'm looking after the child. Everything's fine."

My stepfather quickly chimed in, "Rachel is still recovering from childbirth. Take her to get checked first, and don't let her catch a chill."

Stefan didn't move. His eyes remained fixed on me. "Lauren, what's actually wrong with you?"

I raised my head and met his gaze.

Five years had passed, yet he looked exactly as I remembered him. Even the way he furrowed his brow was unchanged.

However, this was the same man who had deceived my daughter and me for five years, and now he had the nerve to play the concerned father.

I let out a scornful laugh. "Wondering if something happened to your daughter? Go home and see for yourself!"

My mother's voice rose sharply. "Why do you have to bring this up right now? Rachel just gave birth, and the baby's so small. Can't you think of her first for once?"

My stepfather's expression darkened. "Let's go. Whatever it is, it can wait."

In the end, Rachel pulled Stefan away.

As the elevator doors slid shut, I saw her hook her arm tightly through his and lean against him as though terrified he might turn back.

The moment they were gone, the smile vanished from my mother's face.

She turned to me and lowered her voice. "What were you about to say?"

"The truth," I replied.

"The truth?" She stared at me. "What good would it do to tell him she died right now? Rachel just gave birth, and the baby's so small. How are they supposed to go on if you tell them that?"

I froze for a moment, almost unable to comprehend what I had heard.

"And what about my daughter?" I demanded.

My mother looked away, but her voice remained calm and matter-of-fact. "She's already gone. Are you going to drive the living to their deaths too?"

My stepfather added, "If this blows up, it won't do anyone any good. You need to calm down too."

I looked down at the soaked, ruined diagnosis notice in my hand, and the whole situation suddenly seemed absurd.

Natalie was dead. I was dying too. Yet the only person they cared about was Rachel.

I looked up at my mother. "Do you even consider me your daughter at all?"

Her lips moved, but no words came out.

I slowly gathered the papers from the floor and stuffed them back into my bag. Then I looked at her and said quietly, "So that's how it is. To all of you, my daughter's death doesn't even matter as much as Rachel's postpartum recovery."