Chapter 2: The Dead Man Who Was Still Breathing

Tiffany held my hand and said, "Celeste, I'm glad you realize your mistakes. However, since the doctor has said that Dylan is in the final stages, we should let him go with dignity."

Phineas scoffed and said sarcastically, "Do you know better than the doctor? Stop making a fuss!"

I forced out a couple of tears.

"Dylan is still so young. I don't want him to die an early death. I've already contacted a specialist in Ebonas. It just so happens that they have a suitable liver donor. As soon as he's transferred, they can schedule a transplant surgery."

Of course, I was making all of this up just to scare them.

Sure enough, Mandy's face went pale, and she exclaimed, "No!"

My in-laws also strongly opposed the idea.

I shot a cold glance at Mandy.

"I've never seen a doctor stop a patient from seeking treatment. Or are you suggesting your diagnosis was wrong?"

Mandy's eyes flickered, but she stubbornly insisted there was no way she could have misdiagnosed Dylan.

Tiffany scolded me, accusing me of trying to kill her son.

She argued that flying to Ebonas would be too much strain on her precious son and that she was worried something might happen to him on the way.

Phineas went to block the door, refusing to let me take Dylan away.

I pulled out my phone and threatened them, "Fine. If we're not going to Ebonas, I'll invite the experts over here for a consultation instead. Dylan will surely get better!"

As soon as Mandy heard the word "consultation", she panicked even more.

Tiffany cleared her throat and shot Mandy a glance. She then pretended to compromise.

"Since Celeste has already contacted the specialists, let's proceed with that. Celeste, why don't you go home and rest first? Phineas and I will wait here until the nurse arrives."

It was clear that they were trying to get rid of me.

I nodded, pretending to be deeply worried as I left the room.

As soon as I was out of the hospital, I disguised myself and went to claim my lottery prize. This billion-dollar jackpot was my ultimate secret. I hid the money away, didn't make any immediate purchases, and even sold my car to avoid drawing any attention.

When I got home, I checked the account Dylan and I had agreed not to touch. I was shocked to see that the balance was zero.

Every month, we each transferred part of our salaries into this joint account for our small family and future education fund for our kids.

A wave of dread washed over me as I realized that the jerk had secretly withdrawn it all.

I immediately made a few phone calls, asking some friends to look into some things for me.

I couldn't sleep at all.

Since Dylan had planned to fake his death and run off with Mandy, he must have covered all his bases by now.

Fortunately, the house and car were in my name, so he wouldn't be able to sell them behind my back.

However, I still couldn't shake off this feeling of unease.

Just as I had drifted off to sleep, my phone buzzed incessantly.

It was 3 AM, and Mandy's sorrowful voice came through the line.

"Ms. Harper, Dylan's condition suddenly worsened. Despite our best efforts, he has passed away. Please accept our condolences."

Pretending to be shocked, I croaked, "What?! No way! I'll be there right away!"

I hung up, but the smile on my face wouldn't disappear.

I wouldn't let him off that easily.

I grabbed something from the drawer and rushed to the hospital.

In the room, Dylan was already covered by a white sheet.

I removed the sheet and stared at his peaceful face. This was probably the healthiest-looking liver cancer patient I'd ever seen.

Weren't they usually pale and scrawny? What an act.

Smack!

Without warning, I slapped Dylan twice across the face, but Dylan didn't even flinch.

Hmm, looks like they had given him a heavy dose of sedation.

Just as Tiffany approached to stop me, I threw myself on top of Dylan.

"Dylan, you heartless jerk! How could you leave me like this?!" I wailed, using this opportunity to check something.

His body was warm, and I could still feel a heartbeat.

This confirmed my suspicions.