Chapter 1

Seven years ago, the yacht explosion I suggested took the lives of my husband and my best friend.

That same day, my premature baby's heart stopped beating in the incubator.

For seven years, I locked myself in a hell of guilt and self-destruction, attempting to end my life hundreds of times.

Until today. In the hospital, I ran into my "dead" husband gently protecting my best friend, holding a seven-year-old boy in his arms.

They weren't just alive; they had become a happy family of three.

More absurdly, my parents were standing right beside them, their faces full of affection.

It turned out that hell wasn't the afterlife. It was the world I was living in right now.

...

"Seraphina, it's been seven years. You need to let yourself off the hook. The accident wasn't your fault," the doctor said, looking at me with pity.

I shook my head numbly.

How could I let it go?

If I hadn't thrown a tantrum about taking the yacht out to see the meteor shower, Callum and Blair wouldn't have died.

Seven years ago, Callum dove into the freezing water to save Blair after she fell. Both were swallowed by the sea, their bodies never even recovered.

I was eight months pregnant at the time. The moment the tragic news hit me, I tumbled down the stairs. Massive hemorrhage, premature labor.

My baby didn't even get to open his eyes to look at this world before his heartbeat stopped in that freezing incubator.

Carrying the crushing weight of three lives, I had spent the past seven years barely lingering in this world like a walking corpse.

Prescription bag in hand, I drifted through the hospital corridor completely numb.

Right then, a familiar silhouette barged into my line of sight.

My breath stopped.

Not far away, standing outside the VIP pediatric clinic, was a man whose profile I could trace with my eyes closed.

Callum.

My mind went entirely blank. The bag of medicine slipped from my hands, pills scattering across the floor.

My first instinct was to rush over, to scream his name aloud, but my legs felt permanently paralyzed, as heavy as lead.

A second later, Blair walked out of the clinic.

Blair—the orphan entirely funded by my family, who shared everything with me, my best friend whom I treated like a real sister.

Callum naturally wrapped his arm around her waist, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.

"What did the doctor say? Is Noah doing better?"

"The doctor said Noah is recovering beautifully. As long as we keep this up, he can live just like a normal child," Blair said, leaning against his chest with a sickeningly sweet smile.

Right after, a little boy about seven years old poked his head out from behind Blair's legs. "Daddy, Mommy, I want ice cream!"

The scene twisted like a rusted, dull blade driving straight into my heart, churning ruthlessly.

If my baby were alive, he would be seven this year too.

Summoning every ounce of my fading strength, as if walking bare foot on blades, I moved toward them.

"Callum..."

My voice was raw, like sandpaper rubbing against glass, trembling with utter disbelief.

Callum's spine instantly went rigid.

He turned his head and saw me. A flash of pure panic crossed his eyes.

"Seraphina?" Instinctively, he stepped back, shielding Blair and the boy behind him as if I were some kind of man-eating monster.

The moment Blair saw me, she let out a sharp gasp. "Seraphina..."

I pointed a shaking finger at the child, my tears breaking the dam uncontrollably. "This child... is he yours?"

Callum took a deep breath. "Since you've seen it, I won't hide it from you anymore. This is my and Blair's son, Noah."

"So, the explosion seven years ago was fake? You orchestrated a fake death just to elope, just to get rid of me?!" I screamed hysterically, drawing the stares of nearby nurses and patients.

Before he could answer, familiar voices suddenly drifted from the adjacent corridor.

"It's been seven years, why can't Seraphina just let it go!" It was my mother's voice.

"Sigh," my father exhaled heavily, "do you think what we did back then was a bit too cruel?"

"What else could we do?" my mother immediately retorted. "Blair was already pregnant with Noah! If we didn't orchestrate that fake death, were we supposed to let Blair suffer the shame of being the other woman? Don't worry, give it a little more time, and Seraphina will get over it eventually..."

Oblivious to the tension, little Noah suddenly waved his hands excitedly. "Grandma! Grandpa!"

I couldn't believe my own ears. They knew! My biological parents knew the truth behind this faked death from the very beginning!

While I bled out in extreme guilt, rushed to the emergency room hundreds of times for trying to kill myself, they kept this lie-filled secret and comfortably played the role of grandparents to my husband and his mistress's bastard child!

"Grandma? Grandpa?" My tears poured down as I stared blankly at my flesh-and-blood parents. "You... you knew all along?"

My parents were instantly nailed to the spot. All the color drained from my mother's face, her lips trembling. "Seraphina... why are you here?"

I wiped the frantic tears from my face and stared dead into my mother's eyes. "Why?"

Since childhood, Blair had lived in my house as an orphan. I gave up my bedroom for her, my toys for her, my dresses for her, and even shared all my parents' love with her.

I treated her like my own sister.

And now, they expected me to just give my husband to her too?!

"Why?!" I roared, my vocal cords tearing. "I am your biological daughter!"

My father sighed, looking at me with the kind of weary disgust reserved for a psychopath. "Seraphina, are you done throwing your tantrum?"

"It's precisely because you are our biological daughter that you had everything growing up!" my mother looked at me with cold indifference. "Blair is so pitiful. She only had Callum. Why couldn't you just be generous and let them be? Look at yourself right now, acting like a complete lunatic. Where is your dignity?"

Hiding behind my mother, Blair began to sob appealingly. "Sister, please don't force Mom and Dad into this! It's all my fault. I was the one who begged Callum to take me away. You already had so much, but I only had Callum... We just wanted to live a peaceful life."

I laughed. I laughed so violently that my tears mixed with the blood seeping from my bitten lip, tasting both coppery and bitter. "A peaceful life? Let me tell you, legally, Callum and I are still married!"

Blair stepped closer to me. On her conventionally delicate face hung the mocking sneer of a victor.

"Seraphina, look at yourself. You look like a madwoman," she whispered, her voice so painfully low that only the two of us could hear. "Do you think screaming and shouting will do anything? Your parents stand with me. Callum loves me. You are nothing."