A Worthy Sacrifice

After joining the nation's top research lab as a sophomore, everyone assumes I've taken shortcuts to get there.

Mom throws away the handmade gift I had spent days crafting and says with disdain, "I don't have a daughter who's this shameless."

Andreas Fitzgerald, my fiance, doesn't hold back, either. He warns coldly, "Remember your place as Mrs. Fitzgerald."

Later, when my younger sister, Elaine Wilde, destroys my left hand, they all pressure me to drop the matter.

I wake up in the hospital, pain crawling up my arm, and I know exactly what I have to do. Without hesitation, I dial my mentor, George Landon's, number.

"I'm ready to join the classified national rocket program."

"Ms. Isadora Wilde, are you certain you want to drop the charges against your sister, Elaine Wilde?"

"Yes. I agree to let it go," I calmly told the officer.

The officer replied, "You might want to think this through. Your left hand was corroded so badly that the bone has been exposed, and the hospital has confirmed it's a permanent disability.

"We've already confirmed that Elaine snuck into your lab and switched the materials in your container, directly causing your hand injury. With such solid evidence, even if Elaine hired the best lawyers, she couldn't escape prison time for aggravated assault."

"I don't need to think about it anymore. Thank you for everything during this time, but I'm dropping the charges, and this matter ends here."

After a long pause, the officer sighed and simply said, "If she ever does something like this to you again, remember to come to the police station. No one here will let anyone bully you."

I nodded and left the police station. That was when I received a phone call.

"Are you not at the hospital?" It was my fiance, Andreas Fitzgerald, on the phone. Just hearing his voice made my chest ache.

I paused for a moment to catch my breath before replying, "I've been discharged."

While I spent the past two weeks recovering in the hospital, Andreas had gone with Elaine to Oureiba to watch a tennis tournament. He had completely forgotten about me in the hospital.

"Where are you?" he asked.

I hid the fact that I was standing outside the police station and answered, "At the campus."

Dropping the charges against Elaine was Andreas' idea. After the acid had corroded through my flesh, I had immediately called the police. All the evidence pointed to Elaine, and the police had arrested her.

But as soon as I was wheeled out of the operating room, Andreas called me for the first time in six months and commanded, "Drop the charges against Elaine. This has nothing to do with her."

My wound throbbed with excruciating pain, but the tearing sensation in my heart was even more unbearable. At night, I lay in bed, clutching the blanket and pressing my hand to my chest, coughing violently.

In the end, I swallowed the words I wanted to say and replied, "Okay."

…

The next day, I finally dialed my mentor, George Landon's, number for the first time and told him, "I'm willing to join the rocket program."

It was a classified national project. Joining meant vanishing from the public eye for the rest of my life. I had never agreed before because I couldn't let go of Andreas.

But that day, I finally understood completely that no matter how hard I tried, Andreas would never fall in love with me. It would be better to just let him go.

George told me, "I've transferred two million dollars to your account. You've got two weeks to settle everything. After that, someone will come pick you up."

I rushed back to campus, and Andreas had just arrived as well. He sat in his car, with a strong brow line, sharp nose, and gold-rimmed glasses that framed a pair of cold, deep eyes.

When I looked up and met his gaze, my heart felt like ants were gnawing at it again. The next second, I lowered my head.

"Get in," he said.

I quietly opened the back door and sat down without a word. Neither of us said anything after that, and the truth was, we never had much to talk about in the first place. Back then, I'd try to share every little thing with him—funny stories, weird thoughts, and whatever came to mind.

He never snapped at me, but his silence was always his answer. But this time, he broke the silence himself, saying, "Happy birthday."

Confused, I checked my phone and realized that he was right. It was indeed my birthday, and he actually remembered.

I looked up. In the rearview mirror, his gaze was still cold, completely devoid of emotion. I got the message loud and clear. This wasn't about me—it was just basic courtesy, not because he cared about me.

"Thank you," I said softly.

And with that, we fell back into silence for the entire ride.

When we arrived at my house, I finally understood that he had come to celebrate Elaine's birthday.

Elaine and I were switched at birth, and she lived as part of the Wilde family for over ten years. It wasn't until high school that I was found and brought back. Even so, Elaine continued to live here as the Wilde family's precious daughter.

After getting out of the car, Andreas strode forward with his long legs.

To celebrate Elaine's birthday, the Wilde family had even trimmed the flowers outside the mansion into the shape of the words "Happy Birthday" for her.

I checked my phone, and still, no one had sent me a single message. After all these years, I thought I had gotten used to this kind of differential treatment. But seeing it again with my own eyes, my heart couldn't help but ache.

I comforted myself, thinking that it didn't matter since I was leaving anyway. Joining the rocket program meant cutting ties with the outside world forever.

Before coming here, I'd already asked my lawyer to draft the paperwork to sever all family relations. I reached into my bag and touched the documents. Then, I took a deep breath and followed behind Andreas.