Chapter 5

By the time I left the police station, it was evening.

The sky was darkening, and streetlights flickered on one by one.

My phone vibrated. It was a call from Mr. Hayes.

I answered, but didn't speak.

"Clara, where are you?"

Mr. Hayes' voice sounded anxious.

"Out."

My answer was brief.

"Come home quickly. I have something to tell you."

I hung up, a cold smile playing on my lips.

Detective Miller was right; they were going to make their move early.

I hailed a taxi and gave the address of the Hayes family villa.

Outside the car window, the city lights sped by.

I looked at my reflection in the glass, my eyes terrifyingly calm.

In my previous life, it was tonight that Mr. Hayes called me home.

Then I was drugged and sent to the Knight family's private hospital.

This life, I had already set the trap.

The taxi stopped at the villa entrance. I paid and got out.

The living room was brightly lit. Mr. and Mrs. Hayes were both sitting on the sofa.

I pushed the door open, and they immediately stood up.

"Clara, you're finally home."

Mr. Hayes walked towards me, a forced smile on his face.

I looked at him, the man who, in my past life, sold his daughter for millions of dollars.

"What do you want?"

My voice was cold.

"It's about Serena. Her condition is very serious. The doctors say she needs surgery soon."

Mr. Hayes rubbed his hands: "You see, you and she are sisters. Can't you..."

"No."

I cut him off.

Mr. Hayes froze: "Clara, how can you be so selfish? Serena is your sister!"

"Sister?"

I sneered: "What kind of sister is she to me? How many times have we seen each other since we were kids?"

My stepmother stood up, pointing at me: "Clara Hayes, don't be ungrateful!"

"Ungrateful?"

I looked at her: "Then let me ask you, that car accident five years ago, was it planned by you?"

My stepmother's face changed, and Mr. Hayes froze.

"What are you talking about!"

My stepmother shrieked.

"Whether I am or not, you both know in your hearts."

I turned to go upstairs.

Mr. Hayes grabbed my arm: "Clara, you're not going anywhere tonight!"

I pulled his hand away: "Let go of me."

"Your father had no choice."

Mr. Hayes sighed, his eyes suddenly turning cold.

My heart tightened, and I instinctively tried to run.

But my stepmother already had me in a hold from behind.

"What are you doing!"

I struggled desperately.

Mr. Hayes pulled a syringe from his pocket, filled with a clear liquid.

"Clara, don't blame your father."

He walked over and grabbed my arm.

The needle pierced my skin, and the cold liquid injected into my body.

My vision began to blur, and my body grew weaker.

"You..."

I tried to speak, but my tongue wouldn't obey.

My stepmother released me, and I fell to the floor.

Mr. Hayes picked up his phone: "Julian, she's ready. Send the car."

I lay on the cold floor, my consciousness slowly fading.

Before I lost consciousness, I saw Mr. and Mrs. Hayes standing nearby, watching me expressionlessly.

Like they were looking at a piece of cargo.

Memories from my past life surged, despair and fury threatening to consume me.

But quickly, I calmed down.

Because I knew Detective Miller's people were already outside.

I had sent him my location before coming here.

Moreover, I had a miniature recording device on me.

At this moment, outside the operating room, a dozen police cars were silently approaching.

I closed my eyes, awaiting the final moment.

Julian Knight, this time, I won't let you succeed.

Half an hour later, I was carried into a black SUV.

The car started, heading towards the Knight family's private hospital.

I felt the car stop, and someone carried me out.

Blinding lights, the smell of disinfectant.

I was placed on the operating table, my hands restrained.

Julian Knight's voice echoed in my ears.

"I'm sorry, I can't wait any longer."

I snapped my eyes open.

The dazzling surgical lights shone directly into my pupils, and Julian Knight, dressed in surgical scrubs, stood beside me.

His eyes were cold, as if he were looking at an item about to be processed.

"Serena's kidney failure is already in its late stages. Any more delay and it will be too late."

I tried to move my wrist, the strap cutting into my flesh.

"Aren't you afraid I'll die on the operating table?"

My voice was hoarse, but clear.

Julian Knight paused: "You're awake?"

"Forced organ removal carries a rejection risk, no matter how perfect the match."

I scoffed.

Mrs. Knight walked over, looking down at me.

"Don't worry. We've been cultivating you for five years. We know your body data better than you do."

She sneered: "And even if you die, your life should have ended five years ago anyway."