Chapter 4

Victor froze for a moment, then, like a lit firecracker, his voice suddenly shot up in volume.

"Amelia! You actually dare to curse my mom to death?!"

Victor, this man, was vain, arrogant, disloyal, and unfaithful—his flaws were countless. His only redeeming quality was his filial piety towards his mother.

He was genuinely filial. Out of his twelve thousand dollar monthly salary, he'd send eleven thousand to his mom, give me one thousand, then eat and live off me, claiming he was supporting me.

Then, as if to prove his accusation, he shoved his phone in front of my face.

"See for yourself! This is the death registry list!" he roared. "Open your damn eyes and see who's on it!"

On that list, a name was crudely circled in red marker, standing out like a sore thumb—Eleanor Hayes.

Eleanor Hayes… that was my mother's name. Even the ID number after it was indeed my mother's information.

How was that possible?

This morning, just a few hours ago, when I left for work, my mom had just made me my favorite pan-fried buns.

They were hot, with thin skin, generous filling, and delicious soup.

She even watched me eat, congratulating me on finally escaping the hellhole that was Victor. She was so happy she wanted to go downstairs and light some fireworks to celebrate my new beginning.

I knew my face must have turned incredibly pale and stiff right then.

Victor clearly noticed my distraught appearance and misinterpreted my reaction.

"Nothing to say now, huh?! Amelia, to spite me, you're actually neglecting your own mother's funeral arrangements? The person is dead, and you're still calmly working here? Do you have no conscience?! If your patients knew, who would dare to put their lives in the hands of someone as cold-blooded as you?!"

Even though I knew there was a high chance of a mistake, I nervously pulled out my phone and dialed my mom's number.

The phone rang with a "Doo—doo—" but there was no answer for a long time.

Victor stood across from me, a smirk on his face, enjoying the show.

"Still putting on an act?" he said coldly, his voice full of schadenfreude. "Hurry up and sign that waiver, then go to the morgue to find your mom's body, hahahaha!"

Victor laughed and walked away. I ignored him, continuing to dial my mom's number over and over.

Just as I was about to give up and rush out of my office to drive home and check, the call finally connected.

"Hello?" A voice I knew better than my own filled my ear.

It was my mom's voice! It really was my mom!

In that instant, my nerves, stretched to their breaking point, suddenly relaxed.

I almost cried out, "Mom! Why did it take you so long to answer?! You scared me half to death, do you know that?! I called so many times! Where were you?!"

"I was looking for my insurance card!"

my mom complained on the other end.

"I was rummaging through everything. My phone was charging in the living room, so I didn't hear it. I remember having it when I went to your hospital last time, how could it just disappear? It's so strange…"

I let out a long sigh of relief, leaning back in my chair, feeling all the strength drain from my body.

Listening to my mom's rambling, I suddenly remembered the scene half a month ago when my mother-in-law, Martha Thorne, came to see me.

Half a month ago, I'd been working non-stop at the hospital for over a week. Going home was out of the question; even getting a decent sleep in the on-call room felt like a luxury.