Looking at the face that had once made my heart race, I now only felt strangeness and repulsion.
I forced a worried expression and asked Mr. Johnson, “Father-in-law, did the doctor say when Cairo will wake up?”
Mr. Johnson folded the newspaper and looked at me.
There was an apology in his eyes.
“The doctor says probably this afternoon. You’ve been up all night. Why don’t you go home and rest a little? We’ll stay here.”
“No, father-in-law.”
I shook my head and said in a weak voice, “How can I rest easy with Cairo like this? It’s better if I stay here in case I can help with anything.”
I knew I had to stay to play my role perfectly.
To show them my loyalty and generosity.
And more importantly, to observe.
I wanted to know how they would treat me after all this.
That afternoon, Cairo woke up.
The first thing he did wasn’t to ask about me.
He looked around, searching for someone.
“Za… where is Zola? Is she okay?”
His voice was full of concern.
I felt like an invisible hand squeezed my heart, but I maintained my composure.
“Zola is stable. I operated on her. She’s in recovery now, under observation.”
Hearing me, Cairo let out a sigh of relief.
“Thank you. Thank you so much, Selene,” he said, taking my hand with a look full of gratitude.
But I knew that gratitude wasn’t for me.
It was for saving his affair.
I withdrew my hand silently.
“Rest. Don’t talk much. You’ll get tired.”
Mrs. Johnson, seeing her son awake, quickly rushed over, happy to ask how he was.
But her first question wasn’t about her son’s health either.
“Cairo, tell mom how you two ended up like this. Did this Selene do something to you to make you mad and leave the house?”
I stood there listening to her words and couldn’t help but laugh internally.
Even in this situation, she was still looking for a way to blame me.
Cairo seemed baffled.
He looked at me sideways, then at his mother.
“No, Mom. It was… it was my fault.”
“Your fault? Nonsense.”
Mrs. Johnson snapped.
“Don’t I know you? I’m your mother. Surely your wife did something wrong.”
“Mom, stop.”
Cairo interrupted her suddenly.
It was the first time in five years I had seen him do something like that.
He turned to me with a complex look.
There was guilt, but also something like fear.
“Selene, I’m sorry.”
His apology didn’t move me.
On the contrary, it put me more on guard.
Why was he apologizing?
Was he afraid I would tell everything?
Or was there another play behind that apology?
I didn’t answer.
I simply turned away in silence.
I headed to Zola’s recovery room.
I had to check on her.
When I arrived, Zola had also just woken up.
She was weak and pale.
Seeing me, her eyes widened, and after a flash of surprise, her gaze became cautious.
“Sis, what are you doing here?” she asked in a thin voice.
I pulled up a chair and sat next to her bed.
“I came to see if you were awake,” I said in a low, icy voice.
Zola swallowed hard.
“Sis, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I know,” I whispered.
Her eyes flickered.
Fear.
Panic.
“How?”
“I know much more than you think,” I said, my tone flat.
I leaned in close.
“The Serenity Retreat. The emergency medication. Do you need me to continue?”
Zola’s whole body trembled.
She looked at me with disbelief.
Then her face crumpled.
I straightened, recovering my cold medical expression.
“I’m giving you a chance. Either you tell me everything, or you’ll spend the rest of your recovery wishing you’d chosen honesty sooner. You choose.”
With that, I turned and left, leaving Zola shaking.
I knew I was doing something dangerous.
I was pushing my patient beyond comfort.
But I had no other option to protect myself.
Sometimes I also had to become a beast.
And I had a feeling that the relationship between Cairo and Zola was not a simple affair.
There was a much darker secret behind it.
Only Zola could give me the answer.
My pressure worked.
Throughout that night, Zola suffered a panic attack.
Her blood pressure spiked and she showed signs of infection at the surgical site.
The on-call nurse had to call me to return to the hospital in the middle of the night.
When I entered, Zola was curled up in bed, trembling from head to toe.
Seeing me, it was as if she had seen a ghost.
She pulled the blanket up to her chin.
I motioned for the nurse to leave.
I pulled up a chair and sat down to observe her in silence.
I didn’t say anything.
I let the silence, and her own fear, do the work.
After a long time, unable to bear it, Zola peeked out from under the blanket and looked at me with pleading eyes.
“Sis, please. I’ll tell you everything. I’ll tell you everything,” she pleaded.
I continued to wait.
“This isn’t just about me and Cairo,” Zola began, shaking. “Octavia… your mother-in-law knew everything. She was the one who planned it all.”
I went still.
Mrs. Octavia Johnson.
My mother-in-law.
That woman who always pretended to be strict and moralistic.
She was the one pulling the strings.
“Continue,” I said.
Zola told me everything.
Her relationship with Cairo had started before I married him.
They had been in love since college, but Mrs. Johnson firmly opposed it.
She forced Cairo to break up with Zola and marry me.
A woman with a stable job, a high income, and a normal family.
A shield.
Someone to financially support the family.
But because she couldn’t bear to see her son suffer, she allowed them to continue seeing each other behind my back.
She told Zola, “Just stay in the shadows. Don’t worry. Wait a few years and once that Selene Callaway gives this house a child, I’ll find a way to push her out so you two can be together officially.”
Hearing those words, I felt my blood run cold.
It was a cruel and perfect conspiracy.
They had turned me into a tool.
A bank.
A way to fund their lives.
They had calculated everything.
Except for one thing.
I couldn’t have children.
“And why now?” I asked hoarsely.
“Why the rush to go on vacation? Why were you so careless as to have an accident?”
Zola hesitated.
Then confessed something even more terrible.
“Because I was pregnant.”
Pregnant.
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