Chapter 2
Avery's POV
Keith frowned. "What do you mean—"
Before he could finish, I turned and went upstairs.
Back in my room, I locked the door. I threw a few old clothes into my worn travel bag, then pulled out the diagnosis from my purse and stared at the death sentence printed on it.
Outside my window, the city lights still sparkled. I caught my reflection in the glass—pale and gaunt.
I used to wait. Wait for them to change their minds, wait for Keith to see Berenice's true nature.
But now, I was only waiting to die.
They didn't know that whether the experiment was dangerous or not, they wouldn't need to wait for me. Because I was already running out of time.
The next morning, they couldn't wait to get rid of me.
Keith didn't even drive me himself. He hired a black sedan, getting rid of me like trash.
Dr. Stone's underground lab was located beneath an abandoned meat processing plant in Queens. The air stank of disinfectant and blood. Peeling tiles covered the walls, and fluorescent lights buzzed overhead.
They brought me into a sterile room with nothing but a cold metal table.
No windows.
No clock.
Just surgical lights overhead.
"Mrs. Vance, your husband has paid in full."
Dr. Stone wore stained rubber gloves, holding a hollow steel needle as thick as an adult's finger. His eyes were cold, like I was a piece of meat.
"Keith made it clear that to ensure absolute stem cell purity, no pain medication of any kind can be used. Better bite down hard. If you move around and the needle breaks off in your spine, you'll be the one suffering."
Two burly orderlies pinned me to the metal table.
They forced me to curl up with my back to the doctor.
Cold disinfectant splashed across my lower back.
"Wait, I'm not ready—"
The steel needle tore through skin and muscle, drilling straight into my spine.
"AHHH—No! STOP!" I screamed.
I thought I was prepared, but I was wrong. Spinal extraction without painkillers felt like dying.
My nails scraped against the metal table, breaking off.
The orderlies pressed down hard on my shoulders and legs.
"Let me GO! Please!" I sobbed.
"Hold her still! Don't let her move!" Dr. Stone commanded.
"I can't take it... I really can't..."
The needle twisted inside my spinal cord.
It hurts so much, it really hurts
Tears poured down my face, sweat soaking through my hospital gown.
"Keith... Keith, where are you..." I mumbled.
In this extreme agony, I remembered Keith.
It was our first year of marriage. I'd accidentally cut my finger while chopping vegetables, just a little blood. Keith went pale, carrying me to the emergency room. He kissed my finger with tears in his eyes, saying, "Avery, I swear I'll never let you get hurt again, not even a little."
I could still hear those words.
And now, he was the one who'd personally delivered me to this hell.
An hour later, the extraction finally ended. Dr. Stone pulled out the needle and placed a vial of dark red fluid into a cooler.
I collapsed on the metal table, shaking.
"Same time tomorrow," Dr. Stone said without looking back.
The orderlies dumped me in a cell-like room. I huddled in the corner and pulled out the phone I'd hidden in my clothes.
The screen lit up.
My phone was blowing up with notifications. Berenice had posted updates.
In the photos, Berenice wore an elegant dress, sitting in a private room at a Michelin three-star restaurant. Keith sat on her left, cutting her steak. Mom sat on her right, beaming.
The caption read: "Thank God, and thank my sister's sacrifice. Feeling so much better today. Keith and Mom and Dad took me for my favorite French food. Hope sister is taking good care of herself at the hospital too."
Below were countless likes and comments from socialites.
"Berenice is such a sweet angel."
"Avery finally did something decent. She used to bully you so much."
"Keith is so good to you. You guys are like a real family."
I stared at Keith's smile in the photo, my stomach churning. I dry-heaved, but having eaten nothing, only bitter acid came up.
Then a new message popped up.
From Keith.
【Dr. Stone said you weren't cooperative during today's procedure. Avery, cut the pity act. Berenice had a good appetite today—the doctor says the stem cells are working. You better behave yourself. If you cause trouble during tomorrow's extraction, I'll cut funding to your charity.】
I stared at that message for a long time.
That charity was something we'd founded together when we got married. Keith said he wanted to help sick children. We visited the hospital every month. Those kids always called me "Angel Sister," saying my smile helped them forget their pain.
Now he was threatening those children's lives to control me.
Pathetic.
The symptoms of late-stage brain cancer kicked in. My vision blurred. My head was splitting.
Blood dripped from my nose onto the phone screen, covering Keith's name.
I didn't reply.
Before, I would have desperately explained how much pain I was in. I would have sent him photos of the needle marks on my back, begging for mercy.
But now, I simply wiped the blood off the screen and pressed the power button.
