LOGINJenny POV
“You mean… you need my bone marrow. I heard that right, didn’t I?”
By the time the three of us finally sat down in the room, Lisa’s nosebleed had already been stopped at my insistence. She was now sitting quietly with Daniel.
I folded my arms and remained standing, trying to process everything Anna had just said.
According to her, Lisa had a severe form of leukemia and needed a bone marrow transplant.
“When Anna came to find me, she showed me the doctor’s diagnosis,” Alex said. “Without the surgery… Lisa might not have more than a few years left. She’s still so young. That’s why I kept meeting Anna behind your back.”
There was unmistakable sympathy in his voice.
So that was it. The truth.
In a way, it explained everything.
I had always known Alex was a kind man. When we first met, he had helped me without hesitation.
And yet…
That feeling crept back again. The same old feeling. Suspicion.
As I watched Anna dabbing at her eyes with a tissue in an almost theatrical way, I found it hard to trust a single word she said.
After all, Anna had always been laying the groundwork, waiting for the right moment to take something from me.
My room. My scholarship. My parents’ attention. My friends.
Too many things to even list.
And now she needed my bone marrow.
How could I believe that this time was real?
Especially after the way she had just used her daughter to gain Alex’s sympathy.
The doubt inside me only deepened.
After thinking for a moment, I spoke again, trying to make sense of the situation.
“You said all your relatives have already been tested and none of them matched. Why do you assume my bone marrow will work?”
I paused.
“And what about Lisa’s other family? Her father, for example?”
“If you don’t want to help, just say it!” Alex suddenly burst out.
He shot to his feet and slammed his fist against the sofa beside him, as if he had finally run out of patience.
“Why would you think that?” I asked, stunned.
Did he really believe I was that cold?
I was only trying to understand what was going on.
“What else am I supposed to think?” Alex shot back.
“When Anna came to me and told me an innocent little girl might die, and that you might refuse to help because of some childish grudge from when you were teenagers, I promised her you wouldn’t turn your back on this. I told her you were kind.”
His voice grew harsher.
“And what did you do? Still holding a grudge over something that happened years ago. You even made me swear never to see Anna again. So tell me—what am I supposed to think?”
For the first time today, I found myself speechless.
Yes, he knew nothing.
Nothing about what Anna had done to me.
But when we met each other, he knew how terribly hurt I was and how I was unwilling to talk about the past. Did he really never think about why?
And yet he was asking me to help her without hesitation.
Was this really the same man I had loved for so many years?
“So that’s what you think?” My voice trembled.“Just some silly girl drama?”
I let out a hollow laugh.
“You think this is about fighting over strawberry jam at breakfast?”
My chest tightened.
“You think I’m a cold-hearted woman, do you?”
Before he could answer, I turned away.
There was no point arguing anymore.
Alex had already been manipulated by Anna. Nothing I said right now would make him listen.
I needed to find out the truth myself.
Because I didn’t believe a single word Anna had said.
I turned to grab my bag and called into the inner room, “Daniel, sweetheart, we’re staying somewhere else tonight…”
Anna suddenly lunged toward me, blocking the doorway. She clung to me desperately, her hands shaking.
“You can’t leave,” she cried. “You’re Lisa’s only hope. Please… give my daughter a chance to live. I’m begging you…”
Her body swayed as if she might collapse at any moment. She looked pitiful—heart-rending, even.
But she still hadn’t answered my question.
“Let me go, Anna!”
“I know I’m not a good sister, Jenny. You can hate me, but it's not Lisa’s fault. If you refuse, you’re condemning her to death. How could you let an innocent little girl die?”
The word die stabbed into my temples like a needle.
It slipped from her lips so easily that I almost wondered if she was really talking about her own daughter.
Why did it only feel like pressure?
Just because I hadn’t immediately agreed to a vague bone marrow donation, I was suddenly cast as the one condemning a child to death.
That was very Anna.
Alex’s expression darkened. “I don’t care what happened between you girls before. Lisa needs your bone marrow, and this isn’t up for discussion.”
Alex should have understood me. My husband should have stood beside me. His encounter with Anna had been brief, and we had married for years.
Yet he was playing her knight.
Just like my father did. My mother did. My neighbors did. Every classmate and every teacher I had ever known did.
Tears slid down my face before I realized it.
I didn’t want Daniel to see me like this, but the tears wouldn’t stop. Years of confusion and quiet hurt seemed to spill out of me beyond my control.
Alex saw them.
But he said nothing.
Why were Anna’s tears so powerful, while mine were always meaningless?
“I can’t even ask a question?” I said hoarsely. “What do you think I am? A free organ bank?”
The scene remained still for a moment, and then Lisa spoke up to break the deadlock: "I don't want that, Mom. I don't need..."
For a split second something twisted across Anna face—panic, anger, humiliation.
Then her hand came down hard across my face.
Crack.
The sound echoed sharply through the room.
My head was knocked violently to the side. Heat exploded across my cheek almost instantly. My ears were buzzing. For a moment, I could barely make out Anna’s furious accusations.
“You can treat me however you want,” Anna shouted, her voice trembling with rage, “but how could you make Lisa take the blame? I hate you! I never wanted anything of yours—just this one thing! What do I have to do to make you say yes?”
I had endured as many slaps from her as the kisses she had received growing up.
I should have been used to it.
But in front of my husband and son, it felt unbearable.
Instinctively, I reached out to push her away.
Anna stumbled backward and cried out sharply.
“Alex!” She shouted.
“Stop!” Alex rushed forward.
The next thing I felt was a powerful shove.
My body slammed sideways into the windowsill. The potted Monstera toppled over, crashing to the floor with me as the ceramic pot shattered into pieces.
Pain exploded through my back.
I lay there for a moment among the shards, stunned, unsure what had just happened.
“You’ve gone mad,” Alex said coldly above me. “You should not hurt Anna again.”
He stood there holding Anna tightly in his arms.
He lifted her hand, inspecting it anxiously.
So it had been him.
He had watched her slap me without moving.
But the moment I reached toward her, he had thrown me to the ground.
I tried to push myself up.
Several sharp pieces of ceramic were embedded in my palms. Dirt stuck to the wounds.
For some reason I felt as though I should belong there—covered in soil, sinking quietly into the earth.
Maybe the ground would accept me more easily than the people in this room had.
Alex had never laid a hand on me before.
But his words hurt far more than all the slaps I had taken over the years.
“Mom…” Daniel called hesitantly.
I quickly wiped the blood from my hand with my sleeve and reached for him.
He must have been frightened.
But Daniel stepped back.
His lips puckered as he said,“Why are you being so mean today? If you did something wrong, you should admit it. You need to apologize to Dad and Aunt Anna.”
Then he walked over and hugged Anna too.
Something inside me seemed to collapse.
I felt sick.
I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
I don't know how long it had been, perhaps just a moment or maybe several hours. “I shouldn’t have done that,” Alex said stiffly, crouching beside me. “But you were wrong too.”
At this point, I already felt short of breath. Only then did I realize that it wasn't just emotional; it was physical as well.
"I think I'm allergic. Please get me some medicine right away," I wanted to say, but my voice wouldn't come out.
Alex reached out his hand. I struggled to lift mine toward him, trying to let him realize my situation.
Just as we were pulling at each other…
“Daddy!”
Daniel’s frightened voice rang out.
“Lisa fainted!”
Alex immediately let go of me. He called Lisa’s name and ran to her.
The moment he released his grip, I lost my balance.
My body fell backward.
My head struck the sharp edge of the windowsill with a sickening crack.
Warm liquid instantly began running down the back of my neck.
For a moment everything went silent.
The overwhelming emotions that had filled my chest suddenly receded like a retreating tide.
I lay on the cold floor, staring upward.
My husband and my son were gathered around my sister and her daughter.
Even when Lisa stirred awake in Anna’s arms, no one looked back at me.
Not once.
Not even as I lay there bleeding.
For a moment, the room around me blurred.
I wasn’t in the hotel hallway anymore.
I was eight years old again.
I saw Anna sobbing in Father’s arms, pointing at me.
I remembered standing there, frozen, my hands trembling.
“I didn’t touch her,” I had said in a tiny voice. “I swear I didn’t.”
I wanted to show them my twisted wrist, to prove that I was the one who had been pushed. I wanted to tell them how much it hurt, to ask if someone could hold me too. There was so much I wanted to say, but I knew they wouldn’t listen to everything—I had to struggle just to choose which words might reach them.
Anna only had to cry a little louder. They would circle around her.
I remembered my mother’s disappointed eyes, my father’s angry voice.
“How could you do something like that to your sister?”
“Why are you always hurting her?”
I tried to explain.
Again and again.But no one listened.
Because Anna was always crying.
And I was always the one standing there, dry-eyed, terrified, unable to defend myself.“No error whatsoever.” He lifts his hand away from the typed pages, resting it flat against the desktop surface. “That paragraph is your strongest exhibit. You rely on no error whatsoever.” He lifts his hand away from the typed pages, resting it flat against the desktop surface. “That paragraph is your strongest exhibit. You rely on Meridian’s own internal corporate documentation to prove their lead scientist referenced summit-obtained crystal stability data in their official development log only one month after the collaborative meeting. Whitfield possesses no viable rebuttal; this document originates from his own client’s internal archives, not evidence your counsel fabricated.”Jenny’s chopsticks lift another rib from the container, plastic clicking against the rim as she sets the utensil back down. The tender meat fibers separate cleanly between her molars as she chews, releasing more thick sweet-sour g
Caspian stands, his office chair creaking faintly against the tile floor as he rises. He gathers the empty takeout sack and thermal tea pouch, paper and insulated fabric rustling softly between his palms.He walks to the office doorway, one hand wrapping around the cool metal doorknob, which creaks faintly beneath his grip. He twists his head to glance back at her one final time.His gaze locks directly onto the second shirt button aligned perfectly at her collar, the fabric edges neatly matched, the plastic dome seated dead-center within its stitched eyelet.“The button stays straight this evening,” he comments quietly.“I am aware.”“I know you are aware.” A faint soft curve tugs at the corner of his mouth beneath the hallway light filtering through the door crack. “Goodnight, Jenny.”“Goodnight, Caspian.”&nbs
“You are clearly amused.”“I hold no amusement.” His smile blooms fully beneath the office overhead lights, unmissable and soft. “Your stomach is the one laughing.”Jenny’s fingertip brushes the metal wire twist tie sealing the takeout sack, cool hard metal digging faintly into her palm as she unfolds the closure to open the bag fully. Two white plastic food containers sit nested inside: one filled with glazed spare ribs, the second packed with steamed rice. Thick dark brown sweet-sour sauce pools along the bottom of the rib container, thin wispy steam curling upward to form tiny white fog clouds just beneath her chin.She unzips the thermal pouch and lifts out the ceramic pu’er teapot, its exterior still warm to the touch, a thin constant thread of tea vapor curling from the spout. She pours a full cup of amber-brown steeped tea, the liquid swirling smoothly inside the white por
He nods once, a tiny tilt of his jaw making his loose tie sway lightly against his collarbone.“I will arrive at eight sharp.” His fingertips meet hers, skin to skin, two thin layers of fabric separating bone from bone, warm heat transferring across the small point of contact. His palms run warm; hers hold a cool chill, a faint ring of shared warmth blooming where their digits touch. He holds the contact for one heartbeat, then pulls his hand away.He turns and walks toward the opposite end of the corridor, leather shoes tapping evenly spaced thuds against the tile floor. His trench coat shifts against his forearm as he moves, wool fabric rustling against the cuff of his dress shirt.Jenny remains standing in the hallway, watching his retreating back. His shoulders sit straight beneath his suit jacket, his spine forming a clean vertical line from cervical vertebra to tailbone. He reaches the end of the corridor, pushes o
The judge raps the gavel once more, a sharp crack echoing through the chamber.“Court is adjourned for the day. All counsel shall submit closing argument briefs to the clerk’s office by close of business this Friday.”Jenny stands, fingers brushing the stack of exhibits laid before her, paper rustling softly. She gathers all documents into her leather briefcase, zipping the case shut with a thin tearing zip sound.Lucas rises beside her, his laptop clicking shut as he snaps the lid closed. Suppressed, barely contained excitement lifts the corners of his mouth three millimeters upward, his pupils dilating wide.“Senior Counsel —” he begins.“We will discuss this off the record,” Jenny picks up her briefcase and strides toward the courtroom exit, her heels tapping muted thuds against the carpeted floor.She pushes open the heavy co
Whitfield stands to begin cross-examination, his fingernail scraping lightly against the oak table edge with a thin raspy sound.“Dr. Chen, is Form I the sole thermodynamically stable polymorph of this compound?”“It is not. Seven distinct crystal forms have been isolated for the molecule. Yet only Form I delivers therapeutic biological activity.”“Therefore, if any pharmaceutical developer intended to create a functional generic version of this drug, would they inevitably be forced to utilize Form I?”Dr. Chen’s fingertip brushes the edge of the lab report, paper rustling faintly.“They would require Form I to produce an efficacious drug, yes. But multiple viable manufacturing pathways exist to synthesize Form I, utilizing different solvent systems, crystallization temperatures, and cooling gradients. Meridian’s exact productio







