In Death, You Finally Learned to Love Me

My mother stood frozen in place, her tears falling harder and faster.

"Mia has been married to you for five years, and now she's gone without a trace. If I don't ask you, who else should I ask?" Her voice trembled with rage. "Mia never lies! She must have found out about your affair. The woman lying in that ward—that's your mistress, isn't it? Mia didn't run away. You drove her away, time after time, until she couldn't take it anymore."

Her accusations echoed through the hospital corridor. "Love whoever you want, but at least let my daughter go. What did she do wrong? Why should she bear the blame for you and that woman?" Her voice broke, and the anger melted into helpless sorrow.

I stood beside her, my vision blurred with tears. I wanted to reach out and wipe the tears from her face, but no matter how much I tried, my hands passed through her like air.

Her cries grew louder, each word heavy with grief. When her strength failed, she collapsed to her knees, pleading with everything she had left.

Allen lost his patience. He called security and had her thrown out of the hospital.

Back in the hospital room, he smashed the cup on the table. The veins on his neck stood out as he pulled out his phone and sent me a voice message.

"Mia, is it not enough for you to stir up trouble alone? Now you have to drag your mother into this too?" His voice was cold. "I told you already, Sadie is like a sister to me. She's had a heart condition since birth, and it just so happens that my hospital specializes in cardiology. That's all there is to it. What exactly are you trying to prove?

"When will you admit you're wrong? When will you stop lying? What happened to you? You used to be better than this. I'm beyond disappointed."

Without waiting for a reply, he blocked my number.

His words cut through me like shards of glass, each one lodging deeper in my heart. My chest ached with a pain so heavy, I could hardly breathe. I was right there, in his hospital, lying on a surgical bed.

If he had only checked, the truth would have been obvious. But he didn't bother. He didn't care enough to find out.

A helplessness spread through me, cold and unyielding. I slid down against the wall, curling my arms around my head as if that could shield me from the pain.

Outside, a nurse rushed past, preparing to handle my body. Sadie gasped softly from her bed, and Allen pulled her into his arms, fear flashing through his eyes.

"What is it? Are you in pain?" His voice shook as he turned to glare at the nurse.

The nurse hesitated. "I'm here to take care of a patient's remains," she explained quickly.

His face darkened. "Leave it. Find someone else to do it. You focus on her."

And so, my body lay forgotten on the surgical table, abandoned by the one person who should have cared the most.

Sadie's condition wasn't serious, but Allen still insisted on a full-body examination. When it was over, an express delivery arrived at his company. His assistant brought it to the hospital.

It had my name on it.

He just glanced at the documents before his face fell. Inside were my medical records and a pregnancy report—a package I had sent before I was taken. Without a second thought, he threw the documents at his assistant, his anger hardly contained.

"Did Mia send you? Where did she fake these?" His voice was sharp with fury. "So, she realized lying won't work and decided to forge medical records instead? Does she think I'll believe her now?

"Tell her it's useless. It's just a few old photos—hardly worth this ridiculous scene. If she wants to talk, she can come to me herself. Until Sadie is out of danger, I'm not leaving this hospital."

The assistant held the papers, his forehead damp with cold sweat. The hospital stamp was real. Every document was authentic. But Allen, too angry to see the truth, refused to believe it. With no other choice, the assistant slipped away to search the hospital system for any trace of me.

That night, while Allen was feeding Sadie soup, his phone buzzed with a message from his assistant.

It was my hospital room number.

I held my breath. If he went to check, everything would be clear. He would know I wasn't lying.

But he didn't. Without a second glance, he deleted the message.

"Drama queen," he muttered under his breath.