"Carol, you're finally awake. Does it still hurt?" He reached for my hand, his grip warm, yet sickeningly deceitful. "I've been outside the operating room this whole time. You don’t know how scared I was. Losing Liam is already the greatest pain of my life. If anything had happened to you, I wouldn’t have been able to live."
I stared at him, my heart hollow.
"Carol, the doctor said your abdominal wounds were severe. Your uterus was too damaged—you won’t be able to have children anymore. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life. Just the two of us. Isn’t being child-free a good thing?"
His words were poison disguised as honey. I felt nothing. No sadness, no anger, no fear. Only emptiness. And in that void, something dark and resolute began to take root.
I lowered my gaze to my abdomen, where the wound had been neatly stitched up. Yet, the emptiness inside me was a cruel reminder—I had been forever stripped of my ability to be a mother.
"Where's Liam?" I asked dully.
Willy's expression darkened with guilt. "He's been sent to the funeral home for cremation. The funeral is tomorrow. Carol, I'm sorry... As a father, I failed to protect our child."
A sharp pain stabbed through my heart, but I didn’t expose his lies.
My eyes drifted to the bedside table, where a delicate box lay. Inside it was a long-life lock.
"Willy, today is Liam's birthday. We haven't bought him a present yet. Let this long-life lock accompany him. I hope he finds longevity and peace in the afterlife, okay?"
Willy’s brows twitched slightly, but he quickly masked his unease with a gentle smile. "Carol, a friend asked me to buy this for his child. How can we take it away from him?"
"It's meant for the living and Liam... he can’t wear it anymore. Besides, this material isn’t worth much. It doesn’t suit our Liam. I’ve already arranged for something more appropriate from the funeral store. Everything will be burned for him—he won’t feel shortchanged in the afterlife."
I didn’t argue, but my heart sank further. Willy had long forgotten that before becoming a housewife, I was a skilled jewelry appraiser. The long-life lock was made of the highest quality jadeite—worth a fortune. Its intricate design was engraved with the words "peace year after year," a symbol of a parent's deepest love.