Chapter 4

The job Wendy introduced me to was working as a staff member in a small restaurant. The owner was a woman with big, permed curls. She loved wearing clothes that were popular decades ago. On top of that, she always wore exaggerated earrings.

She didn't tell me her real name. Instead, she told me to call her Ms. Rose. Looking at her, I felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity, which made me relax a little.

"You… don't mind my…" I asked cautiously.

"You're just a dishwasher. What's there to mind? Go get your things ready. You'll start tomorrow. Oh, and if you take leave, your attendance bonus will be deducted," she said.

With a job, I finally had a way to pay for my painkillers. By then, I wasn't particularly afraid of death anymore. It was just that the pain each time was really unbearable.

Zachary hadn't contacted me again, but he frequently appeared on social media with Mildred. Everyone said they were a perfect match.

Meanwhile, a few unscrupulous media outlets dug up my gaunt photos and placed them next to theirs, and the netizens mocked me for not knowing my place.

Whenever Ms. Rose saw that kind of news, she would click her tongue and then quietly add some extra meat to my staff meal.

Sometimes, I would also comfort myself, thinking, "See, even if life is a puddle of mud, there are still good people."

Thinking that way, the days ahead didn't seem so unbearable. As the final exams approached, Wendy couldn't juggle her part-time job and her studies anymore.

Ms. Rose didn't want to hire anyone new, so I started helping out in the storefront, delivering dishes.

Luckily, because of the mask and cap, no one could recognize me—none except Zachary. I didn't expect to run into him again.

Maybe it really was fate. Otherwise, among so many restaurants, why would he pick this one?

"Shannon, you're just everywhere, aren't you?"

"Right back at you, Mr. Lake," I replied calmly. He frowned, his eyes flickering with complicated emotions.

I tugged my mask up and was about to slip back into the kitchen.

"You said you got yourself a sugar daddy. How did you end up like this?"

"Things change. The guy went bankrupt, so I ended up like this. Mr. Lake, please enjoy your meal with Ms. Jameson. I'll—"

Before I could finish, Zachary had already walked up to me. He ripped off my mask and grabbed me by the chin as he examined my face.

"No wonder. You're all skin and bones. You look just like a skeleton."

An eerie tension spread in the room.

Mildred coughed awkwardly, and that seemed to have pulled Zachary back to his senses. He let go of my chin and shoved my face away forcefully. The force of his shove made me stagger and fall to the ground.

"Go, bring me a few bottles of red wine."

Perhaps worried that I'd refuse, as he passed me, he nudged my hand roughly with the tip of his shoe.

"Consider this my way of boosting your business, Ms. Morrison."

It was dinner time, and the restaurant was getting busier. I knew very well what kind of trouble it would cause if they made a scene here.

I didn't care about myself, but Ms. Rose was innocent. I didn't want to cause her any trouble. A few expensive bottles of wine were lined up neatly on the table.

Zachary sat across from me. He snorted coldly and said, "Drink."

"What?"

"I said, drink them all."

Dr. Shaw's instructions echoed in my mind. Given my current health, drinking so much wine was no different from suicide.

Upon seeing me hesitate, Zachary lost his patience. He threw a glass at me. It shattered against the wall behind me. Glass shards flew, and one of them ended up cutting my cheek.

"As long as you drink all of it, I'll consider it even between us. Otherwise, I'll make sure all your friends know what kind of person you really are."

"You investigated me!"

At that moment, I finally realized that today's meeting wasn't a coincidence. It was a trap he and Mildred had set up to humiliate me.

Wendy and Ms. Rose were just ordinary folks. Meanwhile, I already had half my foot in the grave.

Zachary was consumed by hatred. If I didn't comply, there was no telling what he might do next.

"Then record a video. As long as I finish drinking, we're even, and you swear you won't touch any of my friends."

"Fine."

Zachary recorded the video.

I picked up a wine glass. The wine wasn't strong. It was cool and sweet as it slid down my throat. In fact, it felt a little comforting.

Zachary sat across from me, tapping the table with his fingers, looking irritated.

Mildred watched me with a faint smile full of hostility.

By the third bottle, my body started reacting violently. A stabbing pain spread from my waist and abdomen, making my whole body tremble. Cold sweat drenched my forehead.

Maybe I looked too terrible because Zachary finally spoke.

"Enough. Stop drinking."

"But we made a deal. I finish this, and we're even."

The drunkenness and pain ate away at my body, but I stubbornly forced the wine down my throat. Maybe dying like this wouldn't be so bad.

There would be no more searing pain, endless medical bills, misunderstandings, public humiliation, or having to see the hatred in the eyes of someone I once loved.

I knew this was the path I had chosen, and I had no right to complain. But sometimes, I still couldn't help but feel a deep, unbearable sorrow.

Even someone like Wendy, a friend of just three years, could stand by me and trust me. Why couldn't the man who had stood beside me through years of hardship just move on and stop tormenting me?

I didn't blame him for hating me. But when he pressed on, trying to strip away my last bit of dignity in front of everyone—I couldn't help but feel heartbroken.

"You really want to cut ties with me that badly?" Zachary grabbed my wrist tightly, his eyes bloodshot with emotions he himself probably couldn't name.

I opened my mouth, wanting to speak, but the pain made it impossible. My abdomen felt like it was burning from within. A metallic taste surged up my throat.

"You're coughing up blood? What's going on? Shannon, what are you pulling now?"

Through the haze, I saw the door to the private room swing open. Then, Ms. Rose appeared. She rushed over, yanked me away from Zachary, and then—without hesitation—slapped him hard across the face.

"You're insane! She only has one kidney, and you made her drink alcohol? Zachary, you're committing murder!"

"One kidney? What are you talking about?"

Zachary was stunned. Triggered by his response, Ms. Rose gave him an eye roll. However, the movements of her fingers dialing the emergency hotline slowed down.

"That's because she gave her kidney to you five years ago."