My Ex-Husband's Dream Girl Was a Man

Vincent Finch's face darkened.

"The doctor said his hands are destroyed because they were dragged across the ground! If you lack common sense, stay out of rescue situations!"

Rage propelled him forward. He seized the girl by the collar.

That single, violent tug revealed something impossible.

"Watch it! What are you, a pervert?"

She slapped his hand away, clutching her collar tight against her throat.

My expression shifted.

I replayed the image in my mind.

This girl was not simple.

"Cut the crap! You ruined my son's life, and you will take responsibility!" Isabella joined the fray, grabbing at the girl's arm.

The moment Isabella made contact, the girl threw herself to the floor. She rolled around, wailing at the top of her lungs.

"Murder! The rich are killing the poor! I saved a life and this is the thanks I get? Help! They're framing me!"

The corridor dissolved into chaos.

I had no patience for this farce. Turning on my heel, I left the hospital.

Back at school, I poured myself into my major. My dedication paid off—I soon secured a mentorship under a nationally renowned forensic medicine professor. My future was bright, the path clear.

I didn't see Derek again until a month later.

I had returned to the hospital to collect case materials for the professor. He had been transferred to a regular ward.

He had survived, but the cost was steep. Just as the doctor predicted, the hands he once prided himself on were swathed in thick gauze, useless and ruined.

Worse, his fractured right leg hadn't been set in time. Combined with the dislocation from being dragged, it healed poorly. He would walk with a limp for the rest of his life.

As I passed his room, shouting erupted from inside.

"Dad! Mom! Give her the money! I promised her!"

Derek's voice was hoarse, desperate.

"Are you insane?" Vincent's roar shook the walls. "That woman is a street rat! She's not a student! The university checked—there is no 'Chelsea' in the Forensic Science Department!"

Vincent sounded broken. Despairing.

But Derek refused to listen.

"Liar! You just look down on her because she's poor!"

"She is my savior! The love of my life!"

"I lost her once and regretted it for a lifetime. I won't let go this time!"

He screamed, eyes red and manic.

"You bastard! You'd throw away your hands, your education, everything—for a delinquent?"

"So what if my hands are gone? I don't need to be a surgeon to live! As long as she's here, I can start over!"

"Fine. Fine!"

Vincent let out a cold, incredulous laugh.

"You have so much backbone? Good. As of today, I have no son. I'm freezing all your accounts. You're on your own."

"Freeze them! Keep your stinking money!"

The door flew open. Vincent and Isabella stormed out, trembling with fury.

Through the crack in the door, I watched Derek on the hospital bed.

"Chelsea, you'll stay with me forever, right?"

His tone dripped with pathetic excitement.

Only then did I notice the 'savior' sitting in the corner.

Chelsea curled her lip, peeling an apple. She shoved a slice into Derek's mouth to shut him up.

"Get the money first. Then we'll talk."

She mumbled the words, stood, and headed for the restroom.

As she turned, her collar slipped down her shoulder.

The sight confirmed the suspicion that had taken root a month ago.

My instincts were right.

She wasn't the beauty of the Forensic Science Department.