Chapter 5

The people around Miranda murmured and whispered. "Isn't that Dr. Payne, the famous doctor in Ekason? Why is she kneeling here?" "You mean Dr. Payne? She pulled a patient's ventilator tube, had her medical license revoked, and was fired from the hospital. I even heard the victim's family broke her hand." "Serves her right. She shows no remorse and even bribed a nurse to poison that child!" "How can someone be that cruel? She deserves to die!" Miranda was pinned down by two bodyguards, struggling desperately. "Jerome, let me go! I didn't do this! You can't treat me like this!" The hospital room was silent. Through the glass, Miranda saw Jerome holding Madison gently, both speaking softly to Damian, their faces full of indulgent smiles. The scene stabbed Miranda's heart like a sharp needle, tears flooding her eyes. With a splat, a rotten egg hit her head, yolk running down her hair, followed by bottles of water and trash hurled at her. Miranda was forced to endure the crowd's malice and insults. She was pinned to her knees for three days until they were raw, and she finally collapsed outside the room. When she woke again, she was back inside the hospital room. Jerome stood by the window, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "Stop making a scene, Miranda. Tomorrow is Freddie's funeral. Behave, and I'll come get you." Even though she hadn't done anything, even though she had been forced to endure everything, he told her to stop making a scene. Miranda stared at his back, numb and exhausted, feeling hollow inside. The next morning, Jerome arrived as promised to pick her up. Miranda got in the car, quietly watching the scenery pass by. Jerome glanced at her. "I arranged Freddie's funeral to the highest standard. Don't worry—" His phone rang again. "Rome, Dami woke up, crying for you. You need to come back quickly." Without hesitation, Jerome slammed on the brakes and pulled over. He gestured for Miranda to get out of the car. "Take a cab there first. I'll go back to the hospital and come straight after you." Miranda's nails dug into her palms. "Jerome, today is Freddie's funeral—" Jerome cut her off impatiently. "Dami is still sick. He needs me more." Then, he added coldly, "Miranda, you said it yourself, the living are more important!" Miranda shivered. Three years ago, Jerome had fallen apart after his parents died in a car accident. He drank himself into a stupor every night, and she had dropped everything to stay by his side, comforting him. "Rome, your parents wouldn't want to see you like this. You have to move forward." She held him tightly. "Rome, look ahead. The living are more important." Two-year-old Fred had climbed into Jerome's arms, tenderly wiping his tears. "Don't cry, Daddy. I'm here." But now it was Fred's funeral, and Jerome was leaving her and the ceremony behind to be with another child. Miranda's heart felt as if it had been ripped from her chest, bleeding uncontrollably. She got out in silence, watching the car speed off down the street. Just as she was about to hail a cab, a car pulled up in front of her. A man got out and pressed a handkerchief over her nose and mouth. Miranda lost consciousness. She woke up on a large bed to find a man on top of her, trying to remove her clothes. Terrified, she summoned all her strength and kicked him off with all her might. The man sneered, closing in. "Well, Dr. Payne, you're awake." Miranda realized it was Vergil Freeman, a department head in the hospital who had once tried to take advantage of her. "What are you doing?" she shouted. "Dr. Freeman, Jerome is my husband! You can't touch me! If he finds out, you won't get away with it!" She backed away, threatening him, and grabbed the phone from the bedside table to call Jerome. Vergil laughed loudly. "Go ahead and call. Jerome is next door, messing around with Madison. I picked this place just to entertain you. Don't believe me? Just listen to the noises next door."