Chapter 3

Julian gently tucked a strand of hair behind Tiffany’s ear.

“Tiffany, Scarlett is counting on you.”

Tiffany nodded obediently: “Don’t worry, Julian, I’ll take good care of Scarlett, I won’t let you worry at all.”

She deliberately emphasized “take care,” then casually picked up a fruit knife from the bedside table.

My back instantly tensed.

Tiffany slowly, deliberately, brought the fruit knife closer. The sharp blade glinted coldly in the sunlight.

“Scarlett, let me peel an apple for you. Julian said you love apples the most.”

She smiled sweetly, but the knife tip tilted subtly towards me.

I wanted to escape, but I was utterly trapped.

The blade slid slowly along the apple skin, each movement feeling like it grazed my own flesh.

“Oh, I forgot.” Tiffany suddenly stopped, feigning surprise as she covered her mouth. “Scarlett can’t eat anything right now.”

She then threw the perfectly peeled apple into the trash can, right in front of me.

Just then, the hospital room door opened, and a middle-aged woman in an expensive suit walked in.

It was Julian’s mother, Eleanor.

“Tiffany! What are you doing?!”

Eleanor snatched the knife from Tiffany’s hand, then tenderly gripped her fingers.

“You’re pregnant, how can you be doing such rough work?”

Tiffany shyly lowered her head: “Mrs. Hayes, I’m fine. I just felt so bad seeing Scarlett like this.”

Eleanor swept a disgusted glance over me. “She deserves it! Crossing the road without looking, couldn’t even keep a baby. If she dies, it’s her own fault!”

So that’s it.

Tiffany was pregnant, that’s why they were so tolerant of her.

Julian must have written a letter of forgiveness for me, allowing her to parade around in front of me like this.

But she had a child. What about me?!

Who would champion my baby, forcibly scraped away from me!

Eleanor affectionately embraced Tiffany. “Come on, Tiffany. Come stay at my house. This unlucky place is bad for the baby, you should come less.”

Then she cast a cold glance at me. “Some people, even paralyzed, cling on desperately. If she were sensible, she’d just end it herself, instead of dragging others down.”

Tiffany’s lips imperceptibly curled into a faint smile at that.

Eleanor then asked, “By the way, how’s the flower you’re cultivating? Has it been saved?”

Tiffany frowned, a worried expression on her face. “Not too well. Not enough fertilizer.”

Her gaze meaningfully landed on me.

Julian followed her line of sight and casually said, “Then just plant Hope in the flowerpot as fertilizer.”

Hope?!

That was the name I’d chosen for my future child!

I mustered every ounce of my strength, forcing out two raspy words from my throat.

“H-Hope…”

Julian paused, then walked over to stroke my face, but his words sent me plummeting into an icy abyss.

“Don’t worry, it’s just the placenta. It’s a waste to throw it away, so it’s perfect for the Immortal Bloom.”

I tried to speak again, but those two words had drained all my energy.

Tiffany feigned concern, pulling at his sleeve. “Julian, won’t Scarlett be sad?”

“This is her compensation for your flower.” Julian comforted her, patting her hand, then turned to me. “Scarlett is the most understanding, right?”

I glared at them, wishing I could flay that despicable pair alive.

Tiffany suddenly gasped, “Oh no, I forgot to water the Immortal Bloom! It’ll wither if I’m late!”

Julian followed her without hesitation, not even sparing me a glance as he left.

Eleanor lingered, looking down at me from above.

“See? If you have any conscience left, you’d pull out your own oxygen tube. Don’t get in the way of their happy family of three.”

The moment the door closed, a single tear finally slipped from the corner of my eye.

I slowly raised my trembling hand, little by little, clenching it into a fist.

Julian would never know that my office windowsill was once filled with potted plants.

Every single one was a gift from him.

And every single one, I had secretly watered with my own blood.

They would grow wildly within months, blooming into eerie flowers, only to wither, rot, and turn into a pool of putrid blood at their most vibrant moment.