Chapter 4

"Isn't that right? You've been hostile toward Dorothy from the very beginning. I refuse to believe she'd try to kill herself!"

I didn't want to argue with him anymore, so I just took out my phone and sent a text to the police.

The sound of an ambulance reached my ears.

Luther gripped my hand hard, the pain so bad it felt like he was about to crush my bones.

"Rowena, you bear responsibility for this too. You have to come to the hospital with me!"

He forced me into the car.

Since he was the hospital director, the nurses in the car all treated Dorothy with great respect.

First aid was given on the way, and we arrived at the hospital in no time.

This time, once again, it was Luther who performed her surgery.

I just sat outside, staring out the window.

I don't know how much time passed, but the light finally went out.

The first person I saw wasn't Dorothy—it was Luther.

He came toward me with a grim face, grabbed my wrist, and spoke in a harsh voice, like an interrogation:

"Dorothy lost too much blood. You almost killed her, so we have to take your blood!"

I looked up at him in disbelief.

Had he forgotten so quickly that I'd just come out of surgery myself, that he had personally told me to rest?

And now he wanted me to give blood to his patient.

The last trace of desire I had for him vanished completely.

I tried to pull my hand away, but I couldn't shake him off no matter what.

Luther only gripped harder.

I looked up, and all the emotions I'd been holding down inside finally broke loose.

"Enough!" I screamed. "Luther, you and I are the ones who are husband and wife—so why do you keep senselessly rushing to her side!"

Luther's face showed nothing at all.

He dragged me into the emergency room.

Looking at her flat stomach, I knew her baby was already gone.

Before I could react, Luther pulled me over to him, picked up a syringe, and had someone hold me down hard.

In an instant, my stomach churned with a tangle of feelings.

My chest was so tight I felt like I was going to be sick.

I grabbed Luther's hand at once, a note of pleading in my voice:

"Just let me go, please. I really never mistreated her."

"That truck driver had to be someone she hired herself."

"Still lying!" Luther snapped, cutting me off.

Then he jabbed the needle deep into my vein.

It hurt so much I cried out on the spot.

Blood slowly seeped from the stitched wound on my stomach.

I forced out a sob.

But he thought I was faking the pain.

"Rowena, even now you still won't tell the truth. Are you going to wait until your sister-in-law is dead before you're satisfied?!"

He almost made me laugh with rage.

Tube after tube of blood was drawn out of my body.

Every trace of color drained from my face.

Still, I gave Luther a bitter smile:

"When she wakes up, I promise I'll confront her right then and there!"

He didn't care about my safety in the slightest—he just turned around and transfused the blood he'd taken into Dorothy's body.

Dorothy and I were assigned to the same ward.

Luther kept holding Dorothy's hand, pressing it to his face, murmuring sorry over and over into her ear.

I just closed my eyes, wanting to rest a little.

I don't know how much time had passed before I was woken by shouting outside the door.

I turned my head and saw several police officers standing in the doorway.

Luther pointed at them and cursed at the top of his voice:

"You're disturbing the patients' rest in here—get out, now!"

He had never defended me like this in front of anyone.

Maybe this time, too, it was only because of Dorothy.

The officer simply asked the people in the ward:

"Which one of you is Rowena Simmons?"

"We've already arrested the truck driver."