My son was driven to his death. And my wife, Jessica? She was out on a date with Mark, the killer.

My son's bone marrow transplant failed. He had only three months left.

His only wish was for our family to see the ocean on his birthday.

I immediately called my wife, Seraphina, but her secretary answered.

A cruel voice, pretending to be Seraphina’s, sneered through the phone:

"Your mother already thinks you're worthless. It'd be better if you just died. Don't worry, the child in her belly will enjoy all the motherly love in your place."

Leo's condition worsened instantly from the shock. That very night, a critical condition notice was issued.