Chapter 3

The next morning, I went to a different hospital and underwent a thorough check-up from head to toe.

The results? I was perfectly healthy, not a single sign of illness.

Staring at the test results in my hands, I felt the fire of rage burning so fiercely in my chest it threatened to consume me whole. So it was all true—my beloved wife and my most trusted friend had conspired to deceive me.

I wanted nothing more than to confront them immediately, to demand answers.

But as my fury subsided and my rationality took over, I realized that acting on impulse would be the worst possible move.

If I stormed into the hospital and confronted them with the test results, they could easily dismiss it as a “mistake” or a “misdiagnosis.”

The memory of the knife cutting into my flesh in my last life was still vivid in my mind. The cold, sharp pain was etched into my brain, as clear and real as if it had happened yesterday.

This time, I wasn’t going to let them off the hook so easily. If fate had given me another chance, I wasn’t going to waste it. Reckless revenge wouldn't do justice—I needed a plan, something meticulous and foolproof.

When I got back home, Emily rushed to greet me.

“Did you get the money? Nathan and I already agreed we need to head to the hospital today to pay for your treatment and pick up the medication.”

She couldn’t even wait another second.

Feigning regret and shame, I put on my best “guilty husband” face and sighed.

“Emily… I wasn’t being honest with you yesterday. The truth is, I invested all our savings. And… I lost everything. There’s nothing left.”

I buried my face in my hands, pretending to be overwhelmed with remorse.

“What did you just say?” Emily shot up from the couch, her disbelief turning into anger.

“It’s true. Look for yourself.” I pulled out my phone, opened my banking app, and held it up for her to see. The balance was zero.

Of course, I had withdrawn the money earlier that morning and invested it in a new restaurant.

The restaurant’s owner was someone I had gotten to know in my previous life while working as a delivery driver. He was a man of great integrity and exceptional culinary skill. I knew his restaurant would thrive and bring in substantial profits before long.

But Emily didn’t need to know any of that.

“Lincoln! What kind of person does that? How could you gamble away all of our money without even asking me?” Emily shouted, pointing her finger at me accusingly.

“I’m sorry, Emily. I really am. Maybe… maybe we should just forget about the treatment.” I lowered my head, pretending to be utterly defeated.

At the mention of “not getting treatment,” Emily’s fiery demeanor instantly deflated like a popped balloon. Her tone shifted to forced concern.

“No, we can’t just give up on your treatment. It’s life or death, Lincoln. I’ll figure something out.”

Of course, she wouldn’t let me stop treatment. If I didn’t take the medication or go through with the procedures and still stayed healthy, their entire scheme would crumble in an instant.

“I’m so sorry for putting you through this, Emily. From now on, I’ll do whatever you say.” I squeezed her hand and looked at her with what I hoped was an expression of pure devotion, suppressing the nausea rising in my chest.

“Fine, fine. I’ll think of something,” she muttered, pulling her hand away and heading out the door.

I watched her leave, curiosity sparking in my mind. What exactly was she planning?