Preschool called to inform me that my daughter Nora had been pushed down the stairs by a classmate. I hurried to the hospital, where I found my husband, who should have been at work, talking with the doctor: “Mr. Asher, your daughter’s injuries are serious. Should we begin with emergency care or conduct the bone marrow test first?” “Do the test first! We can’t hesitate; my precious daughter can’t wait any longer!” I was completely baffled until I saw another little girl, about four or five years old, come over and cling to my husband’s leg, sweetly asking, “Daddy, I did what you told me and pushed Nora. Am I saved now?” She was Nora’s preschool classmate, a child suffering from leukemia. I felt numb, my whole body trembling uncontrollably. Tears blurred my vision as Asher picked up the little girl, softly saying, “Daddy is going to save you, don’t worry.” A slender figure appeared, leaning close to the father and daughter. “The one who got hurt is also your daughter. You won’t blame our Freya, will you?” Asher frowned slightly and replied nonchalantly, “I specifically asked Freya to do it. Her mother is always watching her too closely. I couldn’t do anything myself, so I had to ask Freya to help, just to get a chance to do the match at the hospital.” “Back then, to save Freya, we needed a sibling’s umbilical cord blood but didn’t want you to go through another pregnancy, so we stopped your medication and had Fiona give birth to her. In the end, she should thank Freya; without her, she would never have been born.” “The only person I truly love is you, and the daughter I care most about is Freya.” The woman turned, and I finally saw her face. It was Celeste, Asher’s old flame and a top actress in Hollywood. Celeste wiped her tears, murmuring, “Oh, my poor Freya, having to endure another bone marrow transplant because of the relapse.” The three of them hugged tightly, appearing as the perfect family. But what about me? Legally married to him for six years, with a lovely daughter—what am I to him? Tears fell uncontrollably as their conversation replayed in my mind. Freya, the little girl Asher pitied and always brought home, turned out to be his daughter with Celeste. His daughter had leukemia. To spare Celeste the ordeal of pregnancy, he had me give birth to Nora just for the life-saving umbilical cord blood! After the relapse, he targeted Nora’s bone marrow, instructing his daughter to harm our child just for a chance to secretly do the match at the hospital! No wonder… no wonder I couldn’t conceive after a year of marriage—the problem lay in the medicated milk Asher gave me every night. Even after stopping the medication and successfully conceiving Nora, I was extremely cautious to ensure a safe pregnancy. When giving birth, I was on the brink of death and ended up unable to conceive again. Asher’s gentle face urging me to drink milk and sleep every night twisted into something monstrous in my memories. My hands shook violently, and the phone slipped from my grasp. The noise interrupted the scene not far away. Asher looked over at me, the tenderness on his face freezing instantly. He awkwardly pulled his hand away from Celeste’s arm, stammering, “Honey, what are you doing here…” I pretended not to see, wiped my eyes hard, and asked with a trembling voice, “The teacher called me. How’s Nora?” Now wasn’t the time to confront him. My daughter’s safety was more important. Asher walked toward me, visibly uneasy, while Celeste looked at me with a fierce gaze but spoke in a soft voice, “Nora’s mom, it’s really my daughter’s fault for being impulsive…” “Enough! My daughter’s safety is the priority now. If anything happens to her, I won’t let you off!” Celeste covered her mouth, crying, while her daughter Freya pointed at me, shouting, “Bad woman! You made my mom cry! I’ll tell my dad to hit you!” I didn’t want to get entangled with them any longer and headed straight to my daughter’s room. “Now! Save my child immediately!” When Nora was wheeled back into the room from the emergency room, I saw her pale face. Her head was wrapped in thick gauze, looking so fragile and pitiful. A four-year-old girl, at such an innocent age, yet she had to endure this cruel treatment. Even her birth was a calculated plan by the father she admired so much. Asher wrapped his arms around me from behind, speaking softly, “The doctor said Nora isn’t in any serious danger. She might need to stay in the hospital for a while, so don’t worry too much.” “As for the little girl who pushed her, I’ve talked to her mom. She didn’t mean it; kids… accidents happen during play.” His sudden niceness was just to prevent me from holding anyone accountable. I didn’t respond, only asking him, “Why didn’t you tell me Celeste’s daughter and Nora are classmates?” His hand, which was holding me, froze, and he said guiltily, “I only found out today at the hospital, honey. How could I hide anything from you?” I remained cold and silent. He awkwardly let go, tucking Nora’s blanket. The phone notification sounded at an inappropriate time. He glanced at the screen, then stood up, trying to be accommodating, “Are you hungry? The doctor said Nora will wake up soon. I’ll get her favorite custard bun.” After he left, I quietly followed him. I saw him head to the doctor’s office. “I’ve already informed Fiona that Nora needs to stay in the hospital. We should be able to do the match during this time, right?” “We can, but Nora’s health isn’t great. Are you sure you want to rush the match? She’s really pitiful. When she was brought in, she didn’t cry out in pain, only kept calling for her dad.” Asher was silent for a long time before hoarsely saying, “I’ll compensate the mother and daughter.” The doctor sighed, “Asher, I’ve known you for years, and I have to advise you. Fiona loves you so much. Despite her weak body, she risked everything to have the child. Can you really be this heartless?” “Enough!” Asher shouted angrily. “It was Fiona who insisted on marrying me. If she hadn’t taken advantage of my vulnerability when I was down, maybe none of this would have happened! Doesn’t she bear any responsibility?” “I only found out after marriage that Celeste was forced into a marriage by her family. She divorced for me and endured so many rumors to have Freya for me. The child was born with health issues and was called an illegitimate child. I owe them more!” “But unfortunately, the person she was once married to was my cousin. My parents would never allow her into the Aiden family again. Once Freya recovers, I’ll recognize her as my goddaughter, then send Celeste abroad and visit her every year. Fiona and Nora won’t know anything. I’ll be the best husband and father, making it up to them for the rest of my life.” He closed his eyes in pain, as if making a heavy decision. Seeing him ready to leave, I quickly returned to the room. My mind was still chaotic, as if it had been struck by a heavy hammer. Asher and I had a marriage of convenience. That year, I had just returned from studying overseas and met Asher at a banquet. At that time, the Aiden family was in the middle of a power struggle. Asher and his father were at a disadvantage, marginalized and suppressed, making him look like a somewhat defeated young master. When I sprained my ankle, a group of men surrounded me with concern, but only he knelt down to gently massage my ankle. So when it came time to choose a marriage partner, I chose him without hesitation. Later I learned from others that he once had a close childhood friend who married someone else when he was at his lowest. But I didn’t mind, because he treated me so well during that time. He worked part-time to save money to buy me roses, got up at four in the morning to make soup, and had our photos taped to the back of his phone. I thought this love, expressed in such details, couldn’t go wrong. But now he says I took advantage of his vulnerability? Thinking back, the roses stopped coming long ago, the soup hasn’t been made in ages, and the photos… when did they get removed? Ah, it was a month after we got married. He came back from a reunion, disoriented, muttering about how “everything is too late.” Maybe it was then that he and Celeste rekindled their relationship. I opened the class group chat and saw a student’s name—Freya Aiden. Looking at the birthdate, it matched six years ago. Asher named our daughter Nora to bless Freya… Bless Freya… One is his precious jewel, the other a tool to bless his precious jewel. No wonder he volunteered to pick up the kids despite being so busy at work. It was to see his daughter and also reduce my contact with her. I dropped my hand in defeat, tears betraying me once again. At that moment, I received a friend request through the parent group chat. The request was from Freya’s mom, and after accepting, I scrolled through her Facebook. It was filled with photos of her child and a man whose face wasn’t shown. But six years of living together made me instantly recognize the man’s back. [Today, Daddy took the baby to the amusement park again and let such a big child ride on his shoulders. What a doting father!] [The child’s dad spent the whole day playing princess dress-up games with the child, even pushing back meetings, sigh.] [A happy family of three, this life is enough!] She posted almost every two days. It turns out Asher’s excuses of being busy with work were just to spend time with them. A new message popped up; it was from Celeste: “Sorry, Nora’s mom, our Freya has been spoiled by her dad and doesn’t know her own strength. You won’t be angry, right?” I was about to reply, but Nora woke up, unconsciously calling for her dad. My heart tightened. I quickly put down the phone, comforting her by stroking her forehead, “Daddy will be here soon. Be good, Nora. Mommy is here.” **A Happy Family of Three, This Life Is Enough!** Almost every two days, Asher would share a post on WeChat Moments. He always claimed that work kept him busy, but it was just an excuse to spend time with us, his wife and daughter. A message popped up from Celeste: “Sorry, Nora’s mom. Our Freya has been spoiled by her dad since she was little. She doesn’t know her own strength. You’re not upset, are you?” I was about to reply when Nora woke up, mumbling for her dad. My heart tightened. I quickly set my phone aside and gently stroked her forehead to comfort her: “Daddy will be here soon. Be good, Nora. Mommy’s here.” She weakly opened her eyes and saw my tear-stained face. The little four-year-old seemed to forget her pain and asked me, her voice trembling: “Mommy, why are you crying? Did I make you sad by being naughty?” I shook my head desperately, forcing a strained smile: “Our Nora is the best, Mommy’s most obedient treasure.” She looked down sadly and whispered: “But whenever Daddy picks me up, he always says Freya is more obedient and sensible. But she’s not nice at all and always takes my toys.” My heart ached as if it were being squeezed. I could handle my own failures, but what had my daughter done to deserve such treatment from her own father? Nora grew more upset, her little mouth pouting in guilt. I gently leaned over and hugged her. After a long while, I finally made up my mind. “Nora, would you like to go abroad with Mommy?” She loved to play and just blinked at me, asking: “Are there kids to play with abroad? Will they take my toys?” “No, they won’t.” “Daddy will get them back for me, right?” I wiped my tears away haphazardly and said: “No, Daddy won’t be going. Only Mommy will take you. Is that okay? There’s also your uncle and grandparents. They will all protect you.” I watched her nervously, fearing she wouldn’t want to leave her dad. She did look conflicted for a long time and finally said, a bit reluctantly: “Okay, I love Mommy the most.” I comforted her until she fell asleep, then couldn’t hold back my tears any longer and rushed out of the ward, sobbing uncontrollably. After crying, I called my brother in Australia: “Brother, prepare new identities for Nora and me abroad. We’re planning to come over.” He paused for a moment and asked, “Did you and Asher have a fight? If you’ve been wronged, just get a divorce and reunite with Mom and Dad with Nora.” I had thought about divorce, but why should my Nora have to write down such a degrading father in the family relations section? What if, when things turn ugly, Asher uses his status as her father to fight for custody or force her into a bone marrow transplant? I couldn’t bear to think about it. I took a deep breath: “I’ll explain later. Once Nora recovers, I’ll book the flight.” A slightly panicked voice suddenly sounded from behind me: “Flight? Where are you going?”
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