Chapter 4

After Neil left, I leaned back against the headboard and stared at the ceiling.

Seven years ago, my mother died.

For seven years, I had believed my husband was helping me.

He sat in on the company meetings for me, handled the day-to-day operations for me, dealt with the creditors for me.

I handed him all of my trust.

Even the first time he suggested keeping the company seal for me, for safekeeping, I never doubted him.

Because back then, he told me.

"You're my wife. If I don't help you, who will?"

Looking back now, nearly every important company document over those years passed through his hands.

And all I ever got to see was whatever he chose to leave for me.

I used to think he was guarding the things that belonged to our family.

It turned out he was only waiting for me to let my guard down.

Late that night, an argument suddenly broke out in the corridor outside my room.

"This is a patient's private information. You can't just pull these files!"

"Seal every document, now. No one takes anything out of here!"

The door swung open.

Director James walked in with several staff members behind him.

Neil was among them.

He clearly hadn't expected the director to show up, and his face darkened at once.

"Director James, it's this late. What are you doing in the ward?"

The director ignored him and walked straight to my bedside.

"Ms. Dickerson, did you consent to today's medication yourself?"

I shook my head. "No."

He took the chart a nurse handed him, flipped to the last page of the diagnosis, pointed at the signature, and asked.

"Who signed this diagnosis?"

Neil cut in first.

"Her attending physician, obviously."

The director held the chart up in front of his face.

"Her attending physician's name is Reed. But the signature here is Percival Lawrence."

"Percival Lawrence resigned three months ago. How could he have diagnosed a patient admitted today?"

Neil's face froze.

"Maybe the hospital called him back for a consultation."

"A man who left three months ago somehow gets into the hospital system and edits a patient's medical history?"

The director closed the chart.

"Neil, you'd better explain, clearly, exactly who forged this diagnosis."

The room went dead silent.

Watching them, the director understood perfectly.

"First, seal all of the surveillance footage since her admission, the original prescriptions, and every record of changes to the system."

Neil immediately stepped in front of him.

"She's my wife. This is our family business. If you want to pull records, the least you could do is talk to me first."

The mother-in-law let out a cold laugh. "Director, don't let this madwoman fool you."

"She can barely remember her own last name. What important person could she possibly be?"

The director paid them no attention.

As he sorted through the chart, an old form a nurse had tucked inside slipped out.

It was my admission form.

In the name field was my original name: Vera Henson.

The director stared at those two words, as if he'd finally fit a piece back into some long-buried memory.

He looked up, confirming.

"You're Virginia Henson's daughter?"

"Yes."

He repeated my name under his breath, and the color drained slowly from his face.

Then his gaze dropped to the ring finger of my right hand.

There was a very old black ring on it.

Before she died, my mother had slipped it onto my hand with her own hands.

Neil had always thought it was bad luck and told me to throw it away more than once. I never agreed.

But the director seemed to recognize something. He grabbed my hand.

"Who gave you this ring?"

"My mother."

"What's your mother's name?"

I looked at him.

"Virginia Henson."

The director's hand went rigid.

The next second he spun around. "Get to the archive room! Bring me the red archive box the board sealed seven years ago!"

Neil frowned.

"What archive box?"

The director didn't answer, but the secretary hurried out of the room.

Before long she came running back, clutching a dust-covered red box.

A seal was wrapped around it, and stamped on the seal was the image of a black ring, identical to the one on my hand.

The smile finally vanished from Neil's face.

"And what is that supposed to prove?"

The director still didn't answer.

He broke the seal and lifted a yellowed document out of the box.

The first page was a photo of my mother.

The second page was a board appointment letter.

The director read the first line, and his breath stopped.

He looked up at me, then down at the photo on the letter.

He did it three times.

Neil finally lost his patience and lunged to snatch it.

"Let me see!"

The director whipped the document behind his back.

"You can't see this."

"Why can't I?"

"This document concerns the hospital's internal succession arrangements. No family member has any right to view it without authorization."

The blood drained from Neil's face.

Seeing this, the mother-in-law rushed forward. "What nonsense are you talking? My son only brought her here for treatment. Why are you treating us like this?"

The director ignored her and turned toward the doorway.

"Notify every board member and every senior officer of the hospital."

"Have them come here at once."

Neil snapped, "On what authority are you calling the board? She's just a patient who was admitted today. What does she have to do with any of you?"

Footsteps clattered down the corridor.

The hospital's senior staff arrived one after another until they filled the space outside my door.

None of them knew what was happening.

But the director carried that appointment letter straight to my bed.

His fingers were trembling faintly.

Then, in front of Neil, the mother-in-law, and every senior officer of the hospital, he slowly bent at the waist.

Neil stared at him.

"What exactly do you mean by this? Isn't she just an ordinary patient?"

The director raised his head, his lips trembling once.

"Chair——"