Chapter 4

Percival's face darkened, but he had no way to argue with what I'd said.

Because everything I'd named was something he had actually done.

"I signed the marrow donation form, so I'll give her my marrow. You don't have to worry about that."

I let out a cold laugh and pointed at the door. "But right now, I want the two of you out of my room. I'm sick of the sight of you."

Percival opened his mouth, wanting to say something more.

But when he met my icy expression, he shut it again and left, taking Gwendolen with him.

Once I was sure they were both gone, I took out my phone and made a call.

"Mr. Sullivan, that offer you mentioned before, going to the mountains to restore artifacts. Is it still open?"

"But I need to ask a favor. I need you to help me recover my father's ashes. I want to take him with me when I leave."

When he confirmed, the weight that had been sitting on my chest finally lifted.

Percival liked to say he'd given me a dignified life, that he'd made me his wife, Mrs. Harding.

But he'd forgotten that my father had been a renowned archaeologist and artifact restorer.

And that I'd studied archaeology and restoration myself, all through college.

People with those skills are rare, and I'd grown up at my father's side absorbing everything, so of course I was one of them.

The head of the mountain-region restoration project had reached out to me several times, and every time I'd stayed for Percival.

Now that I knew the truth, what reason did I have left to stay?

Soon the day of the surgery arrived.

Gwendolen and I were wheeled into the operating room at the same time.

Once the anesthesia took hold, the cold marrow needle sank into my bone.

When I woke again, my room was empty. I picked up my phone and saw a message from the head of the mountain-region restoration team.

My father's urn had already been recovered and kept safe.

The weight on my chest lifted again. Just then, Percival pushed open the door and walked in.

The first thing out of his mouth wasn't whether I was in any pain.

It was, "Gwendolen's surgery went perfectly."

"Once Gwendolen is discharged, I'll take you to see your father."

"I'll be good to you from now on. But her illness could relapse, so I'll need you ready at all times."

I looked at him and almost found it funny.

He didn't know I'd never be preparing anything for Gwendolen again, because tonight I'd be on a plane to the mountains, headed for a restoration project that would last decades.

"Percival, didn't you say the recipient would pay five hundred thousand as compensation?"

"So where is that five hundred thousand now?"

Hearing me bring it up, his face darkened.

He frowned at me. "Is money the only thing in your eyes?"

"What else would there be? Am I supposed to see you instead of money? What good has knowing you ever done me? You handed my father's chance to live to someone else, and turned me into a walking marrow bank for your precious first love."

He looked at me, his eyes cold. "You'll get your money. Don't worry about that."

He took out his phone to make the transfer.

Just then a nurse knocked and came in, turning to him. "Dr. Harding, Miss Winfield is awake."

The instant he heard Gwendolen was awake, he turned and strode out.

Watching him rush off, I gave a bitter smile and pushed myself up from the bed with effort.

Then I left the hospital and got into the car waiting to take me to the airport.

Two hours later, holding my father's ashes, I boarded the plane.

At the same time, Percival walked into my room holding up his phone.

"Look, I've sent you the money. I won't shortchange you for donating your marrow to Gwendolen."

"From now on you're still my wife, still the dignified Mrs. Harding—"

He stopped halfway through, only then noticing the room was empty.

The only thing left was a stack of papers on the nightstand, five bold words across the top: the divorce agreement.