POV: Maya Chen
The machines beep too slowly next to my hospital bed. Each beep feels like my heart is giving up. I'm thirty-two years old, and I'm dying.
"Mrs. Wang, you need to stay in bed," the nurse says for the third time today.
But I can't. I drag myself to the window, my legs shaking. My liver is failing. The doctors say I worked too hard, stressed too much, destroyed my body. Ten years of working three jobs to pay off Derek's business loans. Ten years of being the perfect wife and mother. Ten years of sacrificing everything.
And for what?
Through the window, I see the hospital cafeteria below. My husband Derek sits at a corner table. His phone buzzes. He laughs at something on the screen. He told me he couldn't visit today because of an important business meeting.
Liar.
Then I see her. My stepsister Lily walks up to his table carrying two coffee cups. She's wearing a red dress—my favorite color that I can't wear anymore because I'm too sick and thin. Derek stands up and kisses her. Not a family kiss. A real kiss, long and deep.
My hand grips the window frame. I can't breathe, and it's not because of my failing liver.
Lily sits on his lap. Derek wraps his arms around her waist like he owns her. Like he's done this a thousand times. They laugh together, looking at his phone. Then Lily shows him her phone, and Derek's face lights up.
I see the photo on her screen even from here. It's Tommy, my son. Our son. The boy I've raised for ten years while working myself to death. He's at the park with someone I don't recognize.
Derek kisses Lily's neck. She giggles and whispers something in his ear.
My brain feels like it's breaking into pieces.
Ten years ago, Derek told me Lily was just helping us because we were poor. "She's your sister, Maya. She wants to help family." I believed him. I always believed him.
The nurse finds me collapsed by the window. "Mrs. Wang! You're bleeding!"
I look down. My hospital gown is soaked with blood. My nose is bleeding. My ears are bleeding. My body is shutting down.
"Call my husband," I whisper. "Please."
The nurse tries Derek's phone. It rings and rings. No answer. He's too busy with Lily.
They take me back to bed. The doctor comes in with sad eyes. "Mrs. Wang, your family needs to come now. We've done everything we can."
I'm dying, and my husband doesn't even know. Or maybe he knows and doesn't care.
My phone buzzes. Finally, Derek texts back: "Sorry babe, stuck in a meeting. Can't make it tonight. Love you!"
Love you. Two words that mean nothing.
Another text comes through. It's from an unknown number. Just a photo. I almost delete it, but something makes me open it.
It's a DNA test result.
Tommy Wang - Subject A (child) Derek Wang - Subject B (alleged father) Probability of Paternity: 0%
My heart stops beating for a second.
Below the test is another photo. It's old, dated ten years ago. Lily is pregnant, her belly huge. She's with a man I don't recognize. They're kissing. The date on the photo is exactly nine months before Tommy was born.
A text appears under the photos: "Sorry you had to find out this way. Tommy isn't yours or Derek's. Lily got pregnant by her boss. They paid you to raise him while they built their empire on your back. Check your husband's real bank account. Password: LilyForever2015. - A Friend"
My hands shake so hard I almost drop the phone. I type in the bank website. Enter Derek's email. Type the password.
The account opens.
$47 million dollars.
While I worked three jobs and wore shoes with holes, Derek had forty-seven million dollars hidden. Money from the company I helped him build with my designs and ideas. Money he told me we didn't have when I begged him to hire help, to let me rest, to take Tommy to better doctors.
The account has transactions going back ten years. Monthly payments to Lily. An apartment in her name. A car. Jewelry. Vacations to Paris and Rome—trips he told me were "business conferences."
My chest hurts worse than the liver failure.
Everything was a lie. My marriage. My son. My entire life.
I tear out my IV and stumble out of the hospital room. The nurses yell at me to stop, but I don't care. I need air. I need to get away from this place where I'm dying alone while my husband kisses my sister.
I make it outside. The cold night air hits my face. I'm in my hospital gown, barefoot, bleeding. People stare at me. I don't care.
My phone buzzes again. Another text from the unknown number: "They planned to take everything after you died. The company, the house, the life insurance. Run, Maya. While you still can."
I start walking. I don't know where I'm going. Away. Just away.
Headlights blind me.
Someone screams.
Brakes squeal.
But it's too late.
The truck hits me so hard I fly through the air. My body hits the concrete. Pain explodes everywhere. Blood pours from my mouth.
I'm dying. For real this time.
As darkness swallows me, I see Derek's face one last time in my mind. He's smiling. Laughing. With her.
My last thought is strange and desperate: "If I could do it all over again... I'd burn them all."
Then everything goes black.
But in the darkness, something impossible happens.
A voice whispers: "Your wish is granted."