Chapter 3

Selena stared at the document in disbelief. She had known Megan for over a decade and had seen firsthand how madly in love she was with Howard. The old Megan would have risked everything for him. When Megan married Howard a year ago, Selena had sighed but still felt happy—her best friend had finally gotten what she had always wanted. But now… what had happened? "I don't love him anymore." Before Selena could ask, Megan spoke first. She looked at Selena with a faint, beautiful smile. For a moment, Selena caught a glimpse of the Megan of the past—the untouchable heiress from the days when the Stafford family was whole, her father still alive, her dignity intact. That look eased Selena's heart. "Howard doesn't know about the pregnancy," Megan went on. "I don't want to risk any issues before the divorce is finalized in 30 days. It's better to just keep this from him." If either party changed their mind during those 30 days, they could withdraw the application and the marriage would remain valid. Hearing this, Selena realized Megan was determined to leave. After hearing Megan out, Selena explained the necessary tests she needed before adding, "Meg, the surgery will have to wait a few more days." "Why? Is something wrong?" Megan asked in surprise. Selena explained, "You know—you have Rh-negative blood, which is rare. Just to be safe, blood has to be prepared in advance. I've already contacted the blood bank, but it will take about a week." Megan froze for a moment, a flicker of sorrow showing in her eyes. She had inherited her father, William Stafford's, blood type. She thought of him again. If only he had lived these past few years… "Okay." Megan suppressed her emotions, her eyes reddening as she nodded with a smile. Selena went on, "You're also showing signs of a threatened miscarriage. Be extra careful these next few days." Selena's chest tightened as she looked at her. They had grown up together, so she knew exactly how much Megan was hurting inside. Taking Megan's hand, she murmured, "Wait for me, alright? My shift ends soon, and then we can go home together." Megan agreed to wait for her in the hallway outside. She lowered her gaze to her stomach. She was showing signs of a threatened miscarriage… Was her baby reacting to her decision, choosing to leave on its own? She pressed her lips together, picked up the test form, and continued with her examinations. Suddenly, her phone buzzed with a notification from the bank. It was from a new account she had opened after starting divorce proceedings, keeping her finances separate from Howard's. From now on, all her income would go there. As her balance updated, another message arrived. "The payment for the composition and lyrics has been transferred by the finance department. Please check." Before marrying Howard, Megan had worked as a behind-the-scenes songwriter. She had always loved music. When William was still alive and she was still the Stafford heiress, she could have pursued anything she wanted, including the arts. However, life's upheavals had thrown her into hardship, giving her a deeper understanding of the world. William could never have imagined that the skill she once treated as a hobby would one day become her livelihood. After a moment of thought, Megan typed back, "I received it. Thanks." The reply came quickly. "No need to thank me. It's what you deserve. Honestly, you've written plenty of hits over the years. Don't you want to make a comeback? "Hear me out—there's a program right now that's just right for you. I've forwarded all the information to your email, so remember to check. I even reserved a special contestant slot for you." Megan opened her email. Inside was information about a music competition show. The format wasn't complicated. It was much like any other music competition show she had seen before, but with a strong emphasis on originality. She replied, "I'll think about it." She set her phone down after she was done replying, her lower abdomen aching dully. She thought about William again. For the second time that day, she caught herself missing him. … Meanwhile, the internet buzzed with trending topics. Some of the topics included "Alyssa Has Stomach Cancer", "Days Left for the Famous Floral Designer Alyssa", and "Facing Her Last Six Months With a Smile". The hottest trending post read, "Our reporters have learned that renowned floral designer Alyssa Hardin has been diagnosed with stomach cancer and has only six months left to live. "But instead of despair, she has chosen to share her final half-year with the public, turning her life into a real-time countdown to death." In the attached video, Alyssa smiled sadly at the camera. "In the coming six months, I'll share my life online. I don't have any other motive except to give some spiritual comfort to others like me. I hope everyone gets better." The reporter soon reappeared on screen. "According to our sources, Alyssa has long been rumored to have ties with Howard Larson, CEO of Larson Group. "However, Mr. Larson is already married. Will this turn into a real-life drama of a man abandoning his wife for another?" Alyssa heard the question. Smiling, she stepped forward, interrupting for a chance to speak again. Looking straight into the camera, she said, "I do like Howard. I don't see any shame in admitting that. He's an incredibly outstanding man, so I'm sure I'm not the only one who admires him. "But what I want to make clear is that I will never be the other woman in someone else's marriage. That's a principle I live by. Thank you." With that, Alyssa left the frame, and the reporter continued the segment. She made her way around the crowd and slipped into a car, a smile finally breaking across her face. Beside her, the "exclusive caretaker" hired from Cynorth handed her warm water, a hesitant expression on her face. "Just speak your mind," Alyssa said coldly. "The driver is one of my people." Lily Briggs, the caretaker, finally said in a lowered voice, "Ms. Hardin, your actual diagnosis is stomach ulcers. Getting our sanatorium to forge a stomach cancer report for you was already risky enough—why would you choose to livestream and take even more risks?" Alyssa smirked, leaving Lily confused. "Your sanatorium is a licensed medical institution, isn't it?" she asked. Lily nodded. "And my medical records are managed independently by your sanatorium, correct?" Lily answered, "Yes." "And on those records, it clearly says I have advanced stomach cancer and I only have six months left to live?" Lily hesitated for a second but still nodded in the end. Alyssa's lips curved into a sly smile. "So, that makes it real. There's nothing to fear." "But you don't actually have cancer. What about in the future—" "There are two solutions," Alyssa cut her off sharply. Her gaze held a clear warning. "One, I keep receiving treatment, and miraculously get better because of love. Two, your sanatorium gets blamed for a misdiagnosis, a medical malpractice case that kept me wrongly treated for a long time." Alyssa's expression became more threatening. "Which of these two do you think is better?" Lily paled, and after a pause, she said, "Forgive me, Ms. Hardin. I was overthinking things. You've definitely considered everything." Alyssa snorted. "Where to now, Ms. Hardin?" Lily asked, trying to ease the tension. Alyssa glanced at her phone casually. "Acreport Hospital." Lily grew anxious. "But…" "I'm just going to pick up some painkillers with the medical records. Don't panic." Alyssa typed out a message to Howard, telling him to meet her at the hospital later. It didn't take long for Howard to reply, "Okay." … Meanwhile, in the hospital restroom, Megan's lower abdomen cramped in sudden pain. In her hand, the tissue was stained with blood—she was showing signs of a miscarriage.