Chapter 3

"What do you mean my condition got worse and you told them not to let me back?!"

In the footage, I clutched my test results, confronting the doctor angrily.

"Clara, please calm down!"

The attending physician blocked my path. "Your physical condition is too poor. There's nothing we can do. Besides, you haven't paid your hospital bills in a long time..."

My eyes reddened as I stared at him:

"You all knew about this?"

I looked around at the silent nurses and other patients. "So you just gave up on me like that?"

Everyone looked down.

"Clara..." The doctor sighed. "You know your situation. The treatment costs are way beyond what you can afford. I recommend you just get some painkillers and spend your final days at home."

I shook my head, eyes red:

"You're lying... You're all lying!"

I grabbed the doctor's white coat tightly:

"Today is April first... April Fools' Day. You're just trying to scare me, right? Tell me it's a joke!"

The doctor turned his face away, silent.

I collapsed onto the hospital's cold corridor floor. Tears hit the clean tiles. "It's over..."

April first.

April Fools' Day.

The day I found out my body was shutting down fast.

What was even crueler?

No one was joking.

I don't remember how I made it back to that basement room.

For two weeks straight, I wandered around in a fog, like a zombie.

On the way back from the hospital with painkillers, I didn't even feel the raindrops hitting my face.

It wasn't until I bumped into someone that I snapped out of it, scrambling to help her pick up scattered papers:

"I'm so sorry, so sorry..."

When I saw the title on the top document—"Adoption Certificate"—followed by the name "Violet Lane," my hands froze.