Chapter 1

My husband finally remembered me three years after I'd died, but only because his childhood friend's chronic myeloid leukemia relapsed, and she required yet another stem cell transplant.

He found my home and attempted to make me sign the donor agreement, only to realize that the cottage was vacant. He asked the neighbor about me, and the neighbor responded, "Are you talking about the young lady named Calla? She died years ago!

"I heard she was dragged into donating her bone marrow while she was sick. She passed away a few days after the procedure."

My husband refused to believe the neighbor's explanation. Instead, he thought the neighbor had conspired with me to fool him. Looking impatient, he said to the neighbor, "If you see her, tell her that if she doesn't show up in three days, I won't pay a dime of her bastard son's medical fees!"

Realizing that there was no getting through to my husband, the neighbor gave a despairing shake of her head and left, muttering under her breath, "That poor kid starved to death years ago, too…"

…

My son and I were still lost souls three years after our deaths, all because we were too attached to this world to go into the light. My husband, Samuel Hawthorne, had since gone from being a struggling bottom-feeder to becoming an upstart of the business world, much to everyone's envy.

I had betrayed him without hesitation in his lowest, darkest moment, hence his hatred for me. He probably wanted nothing more than to flay me alive, then rip me into shreds.

Three years ago, Samuel forced me to become a bone marrow donor for his childhood friend, Francine Sawyer. A bone marrow transplant required aspiration, which involved inserting a needle into my bone for bone marrow extraction.

I had no idea whether the invasive procedure had been done improperly or if my illness at the time had weakened my immune system, but for a week after the bone marrow aspiration, I was down with a full-body infection. I was down with a fever that left me delirious, and eventually, I passed away in my home.

My son, who had been three at the time, died by my side when no one was left to take care of him.

Samuel hadn't bothered to call or look for us in the last three years.

Now, I held my son, Lucas Hawthorne's hand as we floated in mid-air and watched Samuel land kick after kick on the front yard gate of the farm cottage I'd previously lived in.

Samuel had changed a lot in the three years we hadn't seen each other; his expression was cold and hard, and he looked both familiar and strange.

Behind him stood Francine, the lower half of her face covered with a mask. She was dressed in splendor, and one could hardly tell that she was sick from the flush on her cheeks and her proportionate figure.

Lucas heard the heavy banging as Samuel kicked the gate and burrowed into my arms out of fear. He tipped his face up at me, his sparkling eyes conveying a mixture of eagerness and trepidation.

"Mommy, has Daddy finally remembered us? He hasn't come to see us for a long time, but he seems angry. Did I do something to make him unhappy? Also, who's the lady standing over there?" Lucas asked.

I ruffled Lucas' hair, my heart tightening. There was a lump in my throat that kept me from speaking.

"Calla Zimmerman! Get out right now! Stop playing dead inside!" Samuel roared from across the yard.

The commotion was so loud that it summoned Ms. Nielsen from next door.

Ms. Nielsen walked out of her yard and asked Samuel, "Who are you looking for, young man? This house has been vacant for years!"

Samuel blinked, then regained his composure as he asked, "Isn't Calla Zimmerman staying here? Has she moved elsewhere?"

Ms. Nielsen's gaze darkened. She sighed and said, "Calla, huh? She died three years ago."

Samuel froze.

Ms. Nielsen continued, "I heard she was made to donate bone marrow while she was ill. She died a few days after the procedure. Fate certainly is cruel."

Francine's eyes widened as the blood drained from her face. She argued, sounding aggrieved, "Please don't spread such falsehood, ma'am. A bone marrow transplant is perfectly safe, and it certainly won't kill anyone. If she isn't willing to become a donor again, she can always tell me instead of pretending to be dead. It's bad luck."

She'd raised her voice on purpose as if I might be eavesdropping somewhere in the yard.

Samuel, who had been in a daze, relaxed after hearing Francine's words. His lips curled mockingly. "Does she think it's funny to make up stories like this? She could have at least done some research to make her lies more believable. Did she even bother looking up cases where people have died from bone marrow transplants?"

Ms. Nielsen had no idea what Samuel and Francine were getting at, so she repeated firmly, "She'd been dead for days before anyone found her, poor thing…"

A dark look passed over Samuel's face. He snapped at Ms. Nielsen, "I don't know why you're conspiring with her to lie to me, but tell her that if she doesn't show up in three days to become Franny's bone marrow donor, I'll stop paying for her bastard son's uremia treatment!"

Ms. Nielsen gaped at Samuel, then shook her head as she sighed and made to return to her house.

Samuel delivered yet another icy warning behind Ms. Nielsen. "Remember! She only has three days. If she refuses, I won't give her any money for the month, and she'll have to watch her bastard son die before her!"

Ms. Nielsen had already turned her back on Samuel, but her eyes were rimmed red with tears as she mumbled, "That poor kid starved to death years ago. If I'd gone to check in on them, perhaps I could have saved him…"

Chapter 2

Francine's face crumbled, and she was on the verge of tears. "Sam, could Calla have gone into hiding to avoid donating her bone marrow to me?"

Samuel stroked her hair lovingly. "It's just leukemia, you silly little thing. Even if Calla won't be your donor, I'll search the entire city to find you a matching one."

Francine pouted and protested, "But my body practically accepts Calla's bone marrow as if it were its own. The doctor said he's never seen a more compatible match!"

Samuel cut a glance at the tightly locked front gate, his voice full of certainty and promise. "In that case, I'll hunt Calla down to the ends of the earth for you!"

At that moment, a pain shot through my heart, not that I could help it. I stared at the two figures before me, memories from years ago surfacing in my mind.

Samuel and I went to the same college. He was like the morning light that pierced through the foggy dawn, warm and dazzling. I fell for him first.

We got together after we graduated from college. I saw Samuel as my salvation and the center of my world. I stuck by him as he set up his own business and struggled alongside him. He promised he'd look after me for the rest of our lives.

And he made good on that promise at first, but that promise wasn't strong enough to hold out against the ruthless reality.

When Samuel first started his business, I accompanied him to business meetings. It was how we ended up crossing paths with Kendall Lowry, the heir to Bloomington Group.

As a scion, Kendall did not view a job as anything other than a life experience. Ever since he laid eyes on me, he'd been buzzing around me like a fly and refused to leave me alone. He even went so far as to feel me up while we were out drinking.

Finally, he used his intoxicated state as an excuse to pull me into his arms. Samuel immediately grabbed the beer bottle from the table and struck Kendall on the head.

That incident cost us the business deal with Bloomington Group, and we used up all of our savings to keep Kendall from having Samuel thrown behind bars. Naturally, the price we paid was far more than just a business deal and our savings.

That night, Samuel pulled me into his arms and apologized. He was sorry that he couldn't protect me and swore he'd never let anyone pick on me or hurt me once he made it big. In his defense, no one picked on me after he made it big—except him.

I willed the memories to stop flooding my mind.

My gaze darted to the face I hadn't seen for years, noting the hardened, indifferent expression. The hot summer wind tousled his hair and deepened the crease between his brows. He looked like he had quite the chip on his shoulder.

Samuel held Francine in his arms, his gaze unfocused as it settled on the unkempt lawn beyond the front gate, where weeds stood half a foot tall.

Chapter 3

The year I "betrayed" Samuel happened to be the second year following our marriage. I was already a month pregnant by then, but neither of us knew at the time. Meanwhile, Samuel's business was gaining momentum, and he had secured the backing of many investors as well.

Things should have been looking up after that, but without warning, we hit a wall.

Many investors backed out, and our funding was completely cut off. The company's products ran into one problem after another. We'd stopped paying our bank loans on time, and the house, car, and factory we had used as collateral were forfeited and auctioned off by the bank.

Samuel spent those days losing sleep and barely eating. Alas, misery loved company. Samuel's mother was diagnosed with cancer that same year and required a lot of money for her treatment.

I pulled strings and had someone look into these incidents, only to learn that the person who had been giving Samuel's company hell was none other than Kendall, the man whom Samuel had hit over the head with a beer bottle years ago.

Kendall sought me out then. He told me that he could have one of Bloomington Group's holding companies invest in Samuel's business. He also offered to pay for Kendall's mother's cancer treatment.

However, I knew Kendall wouldn't do us such big favors for free. He wasn't a saint, after all. He wouldn't offer such grand gestures of kindness without expecting an even greater repayment.

I had asked Kendall why he was going to such lengths. He sneered at me. "I don't need a reason to do anything I want. I just love seeing pests like you getting all worked up despite knowing that there's nothing you can do about me.

"Besides, I haven't taught Samuel a lesson yet for cracking my head open with a beer bottle. It's long overdue."

I couldn't understand Kendall. He had a hundred ways to pick on Samuel and give him hell, but he settled on using me.

I could still remember the scene that day, even though years had passed. We were in a dimly lit lounge, and Kendall was holding me while I perched in his lap.

When Samuel entered the lounge with an agreement in hand and caught a good look at me, he froze. Tears welled up in his eyes as he asked me hoarsely, "Why?"

I had answered, "Because Kendall can give me the kind of life that I want, and you can't…"

Kendall burst out laughing. I felt his hand grope my waist, and my heart tightened in humiliation.

However, I plastered a sickly sweet smile on my face and tried to dodge Kendall's forceful touch. "This is splendid, isn't it, Samuel? I'll recover your funding, and you'll have a deal with Bloomington Group. It's a win-win situation."

Disappointment gradually worked its way into Samuel's gaze, but he reached for me all the same. "Calla, come here! I don't need you to do this for me. I'll work hard to give you the life you want, I promise."

His face was close to crumbling as he pleaded. At that moment, I felt as if my heart was being torn into shreds, and breathing became difficult. He continued begging, "Calla, I don't have to sign the deal with Bloomington Group today. Come home with me…"

Samuel was a man who had been full of pride and confidence, so much so that he didn't even hesitate to strike the scion of Bloomington Group on the head with a beer bottle. Yet here he was, showing such deference as he pleaded with me.

Kendall guffawed like a triumphant villain. "I see that your woman is not as virtuous as you think, Samuel. I only had to curl my finger to get her to crawl into bed with me. I guess hitting me on the head with a beer bottle has gotten you nowhere, huh?" He laughed again.

Samuel ignored Kendall's taunts and kept his steady gaze on me. Giggling, I clung to Kendall's neck and flashed Samuel a smile. "He's right, Samuel. Set your sights far. There's no point in being petty."

I couldn't remember what happened afterward, only that Samuel signed the contract and looked at me with bloodshot eyes as he snapped, "This grudge between us will last a lifetime, Calla!"

Samuel poured himself into his work like a maniac after that. In a few short years, his business had gone from a start-up to a listed company. Last year, the company even became a leading enterprise.

Samuel had succeeded, and I'd become the biggest blight on his life.

Chapter 4

Naturally, I did not make good on the three-day deadline Samuel had imposed on me. My failing to turn up brought Samuel to my front yard gate again. Thrilled by Samuel's visit, Lucas circled him like he was a maypole and put his little hand in Samuel's, which hung by his side.

He then turned and shouted at me excitedly, "Mommy, look! I'm finally holding hands with Daddy!"

My eyes prickled with tears, but I forced a smile at Lucas anyway.

For the last few years, Samuel had always believed that Lucas was Kendall's son. Disgusted by this, he refused to have anything to do with Lucas and wouldn't even spare the boy a glance.

Although I had run a DNA test and proved that Lucas was Samuel's biological son, Samuel didn't buy it. He thought that I had paid to have the test results fabricated. That night onward, I had lost all of Samuel's trust.

I suggested we divorce. I, too, wished to end our twisted relationship. But Samuel only pinned me with a vicious stare and seethed, "Don't forget that you owe me for the rest of your life, Calla. I told you that this grudge between us will last a lifetime! You want a divorce? Don't even think about it!"

He'd brought home countless women and gotten intimate with them before me. If I so much as picked a fight with him, he'd remind me that I was filthy and tainted after sleeping with Kendall.

This savage cycle continued until Francine returned from abroad. Since then, Samuel cut off all contact with other women and openly dated Francine. Even Samuel's business partners addressed her as "Mrs. Hawthorne".

I snapped out of my thoughts and watched Samuel call me on his phone while standing by the gate. The mechanical voice on the other end of the line informed him that the number he had dialed did not exist.

His brows furrowed, and he tapped on my Instagram page. He pulled up our chat, his gaze lingering on the text he'd sent me three days ago, urging me to show up and donate my bone marrow to Francine.

I did not reply to him, of course.

Samuel tapped his phone screen to view my photos and saw the picture I'd posted four years ago. His finger stilled above it. It was a candid shot I'd sneakily taken of him sitting on the couch with two-year-old Lucas clutching his arm and resting his small head on Samuel's shoulder.

It had been such an idyllic moment that I didn't hesitate to capture it on camera. But a second later, Samuel shoved Lucas away in disgust.

He tapped into the photo and zoomed in. After gazing upon it for a while, he returned to our chat and texted me: "You asked for this, Calla. The three-day deadline is up. From now on, I won't pay you a dime for your upkeep."

When a long time passed and I still hadn't responded, he raised his leg and landed a hard kick on the gate. Lucas, who had been happily circling Samuel earlier, froze and shuddered at Samuel's violent outburst.

His lips quivered, and he burst into tears as he bolted into my embrace. "Mommy, why did Daddy do that? I'm scared…"

I wrapped my arms around Lucas and comforted him, "Don't be scared, Lucas. Daddy can't hurt you anymore. Look over there—butterflies! Would you like to go and play with the pretty butterflies for a while?"

I smoothly distracted Lucas. He glanced over at the few butterflies fluttering in the breeze and broke into a grin. He quickly wiped his tears and hurtled toward the butterflies.

Meanwhile, Samuel grew even more agitated after kicking the gate a few more times. He rubbed his temples frustratedly, then pulled out his phone to make a call. "Hi, is this the locksmith?"