Chapter 2

Today was the third anniversary of his "death."

Three years ago, I wanted to end my life and follow him. But then, I discovered I was pregnant.

To keep Julian’s only child alive, I swallowed my tears and forced myself to get through his funeral.

I thought Julian’s wealthy family would at least help us, but they kicked me out, calling me a curse who brought death to their son.

My own parents thought my unmarried pregnancy was an embarrassment. They completely disowned me.

Since that day, my life became a living hell.

The families of the hitman’s victims blamed Julian, and they took their anger out on me. They stalked me relentlessly.

Every time they cornered me, I would cry and scream the same thing: "Julian is dead! Please, he’s dead!"

But they didn't care.

They tried to run me over while I was walking Lily home from preschool.

In the dead of night, they splashed blood-red paint on my door, writing "An Eye for an Eye" in giant letters.

They even stuffed bloody death threats inside Lily’s favorite teddy bear.

Every single day, I lived in constant terror.

I moved with my daughter over and over again, but like ghosts, they always found us.

On countless nights, I stared at the ceiling, wanting to end it all. But then I would look down at Lily’s sleeping face, bite my tongue, and force myself to keep breathing.

Three years. It felt like a lifetime.

"Where is the patient's mother?"

Dr. Carter’s voice snapped me back to reality. I bolted upright, stumbling forward, and grabbed the edge of his white coat.

"Doctor! How is my daughter?"

"She’s out of danger for now," he said, sighing gently. His tone was firm. "But she needs her medication daily. Not a single day can be missed."

He handed me the hospital bill.

My tensed nerves relaxed for a second, but when I saw the total, my heart plummeted. Panic seized me.

Dr. Carter was one of the few people who knew my story. He never showed me any malice; instead, he always tried to help us.

My lips trembled, but I couldn't bring myself to speak.

He had already done so much for us. I couldn't beg him for more.

Seeing me staring blankly at the bill, Dr. Carter smiled warmly.

"Don't worry about the bill. Someone paid it anonymously."

I was stunned.

I couldn't think of anyone who would pay such a massive amount for us.

Suddenly, a crazy memory flashed in my mind. Three years ago, as Julian "died" in my arms, he whispered: *I'll make sure you're safe for the rest of your life.*

My eyes welled with tears as a wild, ridiculous thought took over.

Could he... be alive?

Dr. Carter turned to leave.

My chest tightened. I rushed forward, my voice shaking.

"Dr. Carter! Wait! The person who paid... did you see what they looked like?"

He stopped and shook his head regretfully.

"I’m not sure. I walked past the billing window earlier and only saw a man and a woman."

A man and a woman?!

My fingertips turned ice-cold. He was alive. He was definitely alive. But who was the woman next to him?

I lost my mind. I ran through the hospital corridors, searching every corner, but found nothing.

Eventually, I collapsed to the floor, crying hysterically.

He was alive! He was breathing this same air!

But when my daughter was suffocating, when I was begging on the streets for a single dollar, where was he?

Why? Why did he never come to find us?

"Chloe Miller," a mocking voice sneered from above. "Look at you. You look like a crazed homeless woman. Where did all your high-class elegance go? Tsk tsk, how pathetic."