I am Violet Richards, wife of hospital director Leonel Brown. He sacrificed me to save his first love, Sarah Webber, who suffered from uremia. That day, just after I had been injected with anesthesia in preparation for heart surgery, Leonel barged into the operating room and forced the doctors to remove one of my kidneys. I weakly begged him to stop, telling him that my heart condition was severe and I couldn’t withstand consecutive major surgeries. However, he sneered with disgust: “I knew you’d come up with pathetic excuses to prevent Sarah’s recovery, which is why I specifically chose this opportunity.” He completely ignored my suffering and warnings, insisting on taking my kidney before leaving. In the end, I developed multiple severe complications after the surgery and died tragically on that cold operating table. ***** I died on that cold operating table, watching Leonel carefully carrying my kidney as he turned toward Sarah’s operating room, not even sparing me a final glance. As tears slid down the corners of my eyes, my vital signs completely disappeared. My soul followed behind Leonel as he anxiously waited in the hospital corridor for the light in Sarah’s operating room to go out. After the surgery, Leonel immediately asked, “How is she?” The doctor removed his mask and nodded, “The surgery was successful, thanks to the kidney arriving just in time.” Only then did Leonel finally breathe a sigh of relief. But at that moment, a nurse rushed over, her voice trembling as she reported, “Mr. Brown, Ms. Richards suffered massive bleeding in her chest cavity during the procedure. We couldn’t save her.” Leonel’s expression immediately darkened. He pointed at the nurse and shouted angrily, “How much did Violet pay you to lie to me? She’s perfectly healthy! She just scheduled her surgery on the same day as Sarah’s to get my attention! A woman who only knows how to be jealous deserves to die anyway!” Changing his tone, he glared viciously at the nurse: “This hospital isn’t a charity! If you take Violet’s money to deceive me today, tomorrow you’ll be taking bribes from patients’ families! Get out now! Don’t blame me, blame that selfish Violet! Go back and tell her if she has any conscience left, she should come apologize to Sarah immediately. If it weren’t for her, why would Sarah be hospitalized?” My heart ached. It was because of Sarah that my heart condition had relapsed, forcing me to undergo surgery, yet Leonel was blaming me. Of course, Leonel had never believed me. The nurse turned pale and tried to explain, but Leonel cut her off with a wave of his hand, ordering someone to take her away. Soon after, Sarah was wheeled out. Seeing Leonel, she forced a faint smile on her pale face: “Leonel, I was so scared. Thank goodness you’re here. Where’s Violet? Is she still angry that I took her kidney?” At the mention of my name, Leonel’s previously loving gaze instantly turned cold with disgust: “If it weren’t for her, how would you have gotten hurt? Not just one kidney—even if it cost her life to save yours, it would be worth it.” I saw Sarah’s lips curl into a barely noticeable smirk of satisfaction, but she continued to act pitiful, batting her long eyelashes as she said, “I don’t know why Violet suddenly wanted me dead like she was crazy, but I don’t blame her. Maybe she was just too afraid of losing you.” Leonel snorted coldly: “Don’t mention her again! I must have been blind to marry such a vicious woman. Thinking about all those Christmases I spent with her makes me sick. That nurse just pretended she died—if she really were dead, I’d be thrilled.” My heart completely sank. As they wished, I really was dead.
I know that Sarah has always held a special place in Leonel’s heart. I was Sarah’s substitute, occupying Leonel for three Christmases, and it was time to return her rightful place to her. When Sarah went abroad after Christmas, Leonel nearly fell apart. He frantically searched for women who resembled Sarah. And I was the one who looked most like Sarah, and also the most obedient and understanding one. With my sincere companionship, Leonel reluctantly married me. Just before the wedding, I accidentally overheard Leonel telling his friend: “If the person I’m marrying isn’t Sarah, then it could be anyone.” I was standing right outside the door, yet I didn’t even have the right to protest. I loved Leonel, to the point of losing myself. More than accepting the fact that he didn’t love me, I couldn’t bear to lose him. However, on our wedding day, a phone call from Sarah summoned Leonel away, leaving me standing alone in the wedding hall, like a helpless child. I should have understood that Sarah’s place in Leonel’s heart was irreplaceable. Afterward, Sarah sent me a taunting message: [You fake, know your place. With just a crook of my finger, Leonel comes running to me like a dog. How does it feel to have a wedding all by yourself?] I bit my lip, my heart feeling as though it was being torn apart. I questioned Sarah: [Since you’re back, why don’t you just marry Leonel yourself?] Sarah’s answer made me feel like a ridiculous clown. She replied: [Marriage? Are you kidding? Leonel is just one of my many suitors, and I’m not about to give up so many men for him. Marriage is so boring, only a fool like you would cling to a man who doesn’t love you.] That night, when Leonel returned, he proposed divorce, but I refused and showed him Sarah’s texts. I just wanted him to know that the woman he loved was merely treating him as a plaything. But Leonel impatiently knocked my phone away, looking at me as if I were a monster. He said: “Violet, I never thought you would stoop so low as to slander Sarah just to have me completely. Your heart is filthy; you think everyone has ill intentions. Since you insist on marrying me, I’ll satisfy you. But I won’t give you any love, nor will I touch you!” It was then that I realized, even if Sarah did nothing, as long as she stood there, Leonel would love her unconditionally. “Leonel, I’m craving your homemade pecan pie,” Sarah’s voice pulled me back to reality. I watched them interact intimately in the hallway, with passersby casting admiring and touched glances. Leonel smiled tenderly, gently pinching Sarah’s nose. “Alright, once you can eat solid food, I’ll make it for you.” A sharp pain surged through my heart. After discovering Sarah’s social media account, I often secretly checked her posts, tracing back to many Christmases ago when she had shared photos of the pecan pie Leonel had made for her. I knew well that making pecan pie was a complicated process, and Leonel was someone who despised troublesome tasks. The daily work at the hospital already kept him extremely busy. Once, I boldly asked him to make one for me too, only to be met with a cold glare. “Do you think I have nothing better to do? What’s my profession? Don’t you know how precious my hands are?” Yet now, Leonel agreed without hesitation to make it for Sarah, even though it meant he would have to personally crack those hard pecans. He even walked into my operating room for Sarah’s sake and removed my kidney. Whether he loves someone or not, he makes it painfully obvious. Leonel pushed Sarah toward the VIP ward. Halfway there, they heard a heart-wrenching cry: “My daughter! How could you leave this world so early? How am I supposed to live without you?” I recognized that voice. It was my mother, Maeve Richards. My heart convulsed violently with her cries. So, even souls can feel heartache. But Leonel merely paused for a moment, as if trying to identify something. “Leonel? What’s wrong?” Sarah held his hand, asking with concern. Leonel let out a cold laugh. “Nothing, there are always so many flies in the hospital addicted to putting on a show.” Watching Leonel push Sarah into the ward, I laughed weakly. Leonel recognized that person as Maeve, but he believed that both Maeve and I were merely acting. He compared Maeve to a fly, which was ironic to the extreme. However, Leonel didn’t know that when my body passed by Sarah, Maeve cried until she was drained of all strength, unable to stand, and collapsed right at the operating room door.
Sarah was staying in a comfortable VIP hospital room, while I had been crammed into a five-person ward. The environment there wasn’t just terrible—it was so noisy that my heart raced constantly. At the time, I called Leonel, hoping he could help me change rooms. I didn’t even need a VIP room, just somewhere quieter. However, Leonel merely scoffed on the other end of the line. “Are you addicted to acting? Always trying to compete with Sarah for attention? If you want to keep playing for my sympathy, go ahead. Let me be honest—I deliberately put you there. There are plenty of contagious diseases in that ward, so if you’re not afraid of dying, feel free to stay!” I gasped. Contagious diseases? Death? These strange and terrifying words filled me with unprecedented fear. But at that time, my body was full of tubes, and I couldn’t even move. The nurses and doctors had all been instructed by Leonel to target me deliberately. Every time they inserted a needle, they would try more than a dozen times before succeeding, causing me to break out in a cold sweat from the pain. When blood backed up into my IV line, no one came to fix it. My meals were cold leftovers. When I made requests, some nurses would roll their eyes and coldly remark, “Too used to the rich life, huh? You think you’re more precious than everyone else? We’re all patients here—no one’s more noble than anyone else. These are the conditions at our hospital. If you can’t handle it, go back where you came from!” I didn’t dare say another word because I just wanted to live—more than anyone else, I wanted to survive. Meanwhile, Sarah was enjoying incredibly comfortable treatment. Her caregivers were the most high-end professionals. Yet in the past, Leonel wouldn’t even hire the cheapest caregiver for me. “Leonel, besides pecan pie, I’d also like some chicken soup,” Sarah said to Leonel in a coquettish tone. Hearing this, a sense of foreboding immediately welled up inside me. In the past, I always made chicken soup for Leonel, and Sarah must have tasted it, which is why she casually mentioned it. Sure enough, Leonel first looked tenderly at Sarah and responded softly, “I’ll have Violet make it for you right away.” Then he took out his phone, his expression turning icy as he dialed my number. One ring. Two rings. When the call finally connected, Leonel didn’t even bother with pleasantries. He commanded, “Violet, whatever you’re doing right now, come home immediately and make chicken soup for Sarah. Deliver it before tonight and apologize to her. Otherwise, don’t blame me if I divorce you!” The person on the other end was clearly stunned, but Leonel didn’t give them time to respond before hastily hanging up. Leonel’s tone was so entitled! Even if he didn’t believe I was dead or that I was undergoing heart surgery, the fact that he burst into the operating room to take my kidney was absolutely true. I had two surgical sites on my body, and my recovery speed couldn’t possibly match Sarah’s. Of course—in his eyes, I was nothing, not even comparable to Sarah. In the past, I always complied with Leonel’s demands, but this time, I would never respond again. As for divorce, he could do whatever he wanted. In the past, he always threatened me with divorce, knowing full well I would never agree. Whenever I did something that displeased him, he would use divorce as a threat. Even when I initially refused to donate my kidney due to health concerns, he used the same tactic to force me. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to agree—my body simply couldn’t handle it. Leonel’s goal was to put me in mortal danger. But he wouldn’t believe it. Just as I had been injected with anesthesia and my chest cavity had been opened, he stormed into the operating room with his people. They weren’t even wearing surgical gowns or masks, completely disregarding whether I might get infected as a result. Despite his recent busy schedule, Leonel spent the entire afternoon with Sarah, ignoring all his phone calls. Only Sarah could enjoy such special treatment. When he accompanied me to the Christmas memorial, he barely stayed a few minutes before taking a call and leaving without even saying goodbye. This clearly showed his true love for Sarah. Leonel kept finding topics to make Sarah laugh. The man who had been so quiet and reserved at dinner was suddenly so animated. As the sky gradually darkened, Leonel grew visibly agitated, repeatedly checking his watch. By the time it was completely dark with still no sign of me, Leonel finally lost his temper. He called me countless times, but no one answered. Leonel sent me a text message lashing out. [Violet, you’re not listening to me anymore? Why is it so difficult for you to do one small thing? Sarah is in the hospital, and you have an undeniable responsibility! Don’t forget whose money you’re spending. Who’s supporting you?] [How much longer do you plan to act out? This time, even if you beg me like a dog, I’m divorcing you!] So in Leonel’s eyes, making corn chowder was a small thing. Yet each time, I would select ingredients before dawn and cook for hours to ensure the perfect flavor. Leonel’s chest heaved violently, his eyes red with anger. Sarah first smirked smugly, then quickly lowered her head, feigning a hurt expression. She said, “Leonel, don’t blame Violet. She’s probably still angry with me. I don’t need the corn chowder anymore. Maybe Violet is right—I am just a shameless homewrecker. “But Leonel, I really can’t let you go. Even if she kills me, I have to say this.” Leonel’s eyes widened. “Violet actually called you shameless? I knew it—she wants you dead! I absolutely won’t let her get away with this!” With that, he stormed toward the door. Sarah called out, “No, Leonel, I don’t want to see you two fighting because of me. I already promised Violet that once I recover, I’ll go abroad again and stop pursuing you. Otherwise, she threatened to harm my family.” Leonel snorted coldly. “If it weren’t for me, would she have that kind of power?” As soon as he stepped out, Leonel bumped into Maeve. Maeve was mopping the floor. I was shocked, and so was Leonel. He asked, “What are you doing here?” Leonel showed no respect for the older woman. Maeve looked at Leonel, a flash of anger in her eyes. “I’m a cleaner here!” Leonel laughed coldly. “Doesn’t Violet give you plenty of money every month? Are you still short on cash? What is it? Did you come to laugh at me? You Richards people are never satisfied. How much more money do you want from me?” My breath caught, and Maeve’s expression darkened further. In truth, I had never used Leonel’s money to support Maeve. Although I didn’t have a formal job, I knew Maeve lived a difficult life and had poor health, suffering from heart disease like me. So I took on freelance work, drawing illustrations for various places or teaching children art, which provided me with some income. Leonel gave me five thousand dollars monthly for living expenses, but it was far from enough. So I had to use my earnings to give part to Maeve and supplement our household expenses. I never told Leonel about any of this. Maeve gripped the mop tightly. “I won’t allow you to slander my daughter like this!” Leonel didn’t care at all. “It’s because of a mother with such twisted values like you that such a disgusting daughter was raised. Let me tell you, I don’t want to see you in this hospital again. Get out!” Maeve trembled with anger and was about to say something when she suddenly fainted. Leonel even kicked Maeve twice. He said impatiently, “You like acting too? You people just can’t stop performing. Are you trying to scam me now, or are you imitating your daughter by pretending to be dead?” Anyone with basic medical knowledge could see that Maeve’s body was convulsing, her breathing rapid—clearly not an act. Dr. Easton Kelley, who was passing by, quickly called for medical staff to place Maeve on a gurney and rush her to the operating room. I was extremely anxious. As a soul, there was nothing I could do. Only I knew that a heart attack relapse could be fatal! Leonel looked on with contempt. “Let’s see how long you can keep up this act.” Just as Leonel seemed to remember his plan to confront me, he was stopped by Easton, who had just run into the operating room. “Mr. Brown, please sign this surgical consent form. The patient has hereditary heart disease, and she has no family left.” Leonel stopped in his tracks, his expression darkening. “What nonsense are you talking about? I have no connection to the Richards family. You should be looking for Violet—I don’t want anything to do with their family matters!” Easton frowned. “You don’t know? Ms. Richards passed away on the operating table some time ago. She developed an infection during surgery, complicated by heart issues. I thought you knew.” Leonel staggered backward. “Impossible! Wasn’t she just pretending? It was just a kidney removal—that can’t kill someone.” Easton sighed. “Ms. Richards also had hereditary heart disease. You really didn’t know?”
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