After 99 Forgiveness, I Faked My Death and Vanished

### Chapter 3

From a distance, Randolph came rushing in with a woman in his arms, and a guard quickly shoved me out of the way.

Randolph didn't notice me at all. Every part of him was focused on Lily. She leaned against his shoulder, face pale. "Am I too heavy? Put me down."

"You weigh nothing at all, baby."

That face of his, always so careless with women, was now full of the kind of caution you'd give something precious. My chest felt crushed under a boulder. I couldn't breathe.

Nearby, the nurses traded whispers.

"Mr. Farley really dotes on his wife, doesn't he? He booked out the whole hospital just for her."

"I heard there was an accident… some tearing. He had her flown in by helicopter. Who wouldn't want a husband like that, so intense and so devoted."

I stood in the corner, listening. Then I turned and ran out to the flowerbed, bent over it, and threw up.

What a good man. If only he weren't my husband.

I retched until there was almost nothing left but bile before I stopped.

I wiped away the tears and the mess at the corner of my mouth, then went to a different hospital and finished the checkup alone.

After that I went straight to Farley. I began taking stock of the businesses that were mine, sorting through every division, pulling together all the resources in my hands.

I had poured everything into Farley. Its glory was built out of my blood and effort. These things were mine by right, and I would take all of them with me.

All of it, for my child.

I had to plan everything for her myself, so that even without a father she would live better than any other child, never having to depend on anyone, never having to live under someone else's roof and read someone else's face.

Then I handed off the matters I couldn't settle in time to Grandpa Farley.

"Mel, give me half a month. I'll take care of everything for you."

I nodded.

Just half a month more, and I'd be free.

Today was the tenth anniversary of my parents' deaths. Once all of it was done, I bought a bouquet of irises, my mother's favorite, and hurried to the cemetery.

I'd barely set foot inside.

Crack! The sound of something shattering carried from far off.

A bad feeling rose up in me all at once, and I went straight to the grave.

Lily was sitting in front of my parents' headstone, blood running from her fingers.

My eyes went cold. "Why are you here?"

"Lily heard today was your parents' memorial. She begged me to bring her so she could pay her respects." Randolph crouched in front of her, not lifting his head, carefully dabbing medicine on her cut.

In the past, no matter how far he took his games, he'd never once brought anyone before my parents.

He used to say this place belonged to our family alone, that no one else would ever have the right to set foot here. For her, he'd broken his own rule.

Rage burned in my chest, and I screamed at Lily, "Get out. You're not welcome here!"

Then my eyes caught the ceramic shattered into shards beside her, and a cold dread swept through my whole body.

"You broke this? My parents made this jar with me while they were alive. The only one!"

Lily flinched. "I touched it by accident, I'm so sorry. Whatever it costs, let me pay you back, all right?"

By accident?

I'd left it at home. She'd deliberately brought it here to smash it.

I couldn't hold myself back anymore, and I swung my hand hard across Lily's face.

"How are you going to pay me back? Can you bring my parents back to life?!"

"Ah!" Lily clutched her cheek and toppled into Randolph's arms.

Randolph shoved me away with one hand and wrapped his arm around the sobbing Lily, as if she were the one who'd been wronged.

"It's just a dead object. Is it really worth more than a living person? When did you turn so vicious?"

I lost my balance and pitched into the shards, the burning sting tearing across my palm. But my heart hurt a thousand times more.

When my parents were alive, they treated him like their own flesh and blood.

Back then he was only an illegitimate son. His brothers and sisters froze him out behind their grandfather's back, and he often didn't even have enough to eat.

My mother scrimped and saved, and with the money she set aside she made the braised short ribs he loved.

My father took on two extra jobs and worked himself sick, just to buy him a more presentable suit.

And now, for a woman who'd destroyed my parents' keepsake, he was calling me vicious.

A rough laugh forced its way out of my throat, uglier than any crying. I stared straight into his eyes.

"You bring a piece of trash to my parents' grave, you let her destroy something precious they left behind, and you're not vicious?!"

Randolph's face went dark in an instant, a black anger spreading out from him.

He reached out and seized my arm.

"Melanie, I thought you'd finally learned to forgive. I didn't expect you to be as incurable as ever."

"Lily meant nothing but well, and there's nothing wrong with me bringing her to lay flowers for your parents. Your narrow little heart makes me sick."