Declan was instantly frozen in place.
Declan gently stroked Buddy’s head and reassured him with a smile, “No worries, I’ll teach you step by step.”
Just then, Lydia’s voice came through the phone, filled with panic, “Declan, something’s wrong! Our child is covered in a rash and has a persistent high fever. What should I do?”
Alarmed, Declan dashed to the hospital, not bothering to change his clothes.
As he neared the ward, he overheard two doctors talking. One mentioned, “Last year, I performed the only artificial heart surgery, and the patient hasn’t come for medication in eight months. I hope nothing’s happened. It seems like the artificial heart technology still needs improvement.”
Declan froze. He knew there had been only one such case in the country involving Lydia. Anyone with an artificial heart must take daily medication to avoid heart failure. In his recollection, Lydia had always seemed diligent in taking her meds, intensifying his guilt.
He urgently grabbed one of the doctors and asked, “What do you mean by artificial heart surgery?”
The doctor, mistaking him for a potential patient, advised, “Artificial heart surgery is high–risk. The patient donated her heart to her husband and received an artificial one in return. But she hasn’t shown up for follow–ups or medication for eight months. It’s best to wait for a suitable
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Declan felt as if he’d been struck hard, his mind reeling. The doctor offered some comforting words and left.
At that moment, Lydia, who had been waiting for Declan, spotted him standing in a daze in the hallway. She quickly pulled him towards the neonatal care unit, pointing to the child with tears in her eyes, “It’s all my fault. My mother didn’t know our son was allergic to seafood and fed him a spoonful of fish soup. That’s when he broke out in a rash.”
I observed Lydia coldly. I understood better than anyone how manipulative she could be. This allergy incident must have been her doing. There’s an old saying about how even a tiger doesn’t eat its cubs, but she would do anything to have Declan to herself.
The child, worn out from days of distress and now overwhelmed by allergens, was too weak to even cry. He looked pitiful. In the past, Declan’s heart would have softened, and he would have been wholly attentive to the baby. But now, he simply gave a dismissive “hmm” and looked at Lydia with a questioning gaze, “Lydia, I remember you have monthly check–ups for your artificial heart. Haven’t you had one this month?”
Lydia seemed flustered and explained, “This month is my due date, and there’s so much going on. I couldn’t manage it. I know my body; I’ll go for a check–up in a couple of days.”
Declan was silent for a moment before suddenly asking, “Did you take your medicine today? You seem so agitated. Doesn’t your heart hurt?”
Lydia immediately put on an act, taking out a small bottle and pretending to take her medication. Declan grabbed it to inspect it further.
Crash!
Lydia knocked the bottle from his hand, tears in her eyes, “Declan, our child’s life is uncertain, and you’re questioning me like this. Do you suspect me of lying? Fine, I’ll get a chest X–ray to prove my honesty!”
With that, she ran out. Declan followed her, his expression complex.
The results confirmed that her heart was indeed artificial, beating strongly. The doctor said she didn’t have much time, perhaps only a month or two left.
Declan immediately apologized, “I’m sorry, Lydia. I misunderstood you. How about I compensate you with 20% of the company’s shares? Our little one can inherit them later.”‘
I frowned. Lydia must have found someone in the hospital to falsify the results for her. No wonder Declan trusted her so blindly.
Hearing this, Lydia’s eyes brightened. She quickly replied, “I don’t want anything. I just want your heart to be with us, mother and son.”
Declan smiled and said he needed to go out, asking the lawyer to draft a share transfer agreement. But instead, he made a phone call. The voice was too low for me to hear. I only saw someone with a “director” badge rush over, pulling up computer data, and asserting seriously, “Mr. Declan, I can assure you, Lydia’s heart is undamaged and is her own. As for that fake chest X–ray, I will hold those involved accountable and give you an explanation.”
Declan showed no surprise at the news. He swept everything off the table in a rage. His eyes turned dark and fierce, like a demon from hell, as he gritted his teeth, “Lydia, how dare you deceive me.”
Even I felt a chill watching Declan like this.
The next day, Declan arranged to meet Lydia, saying he would transfer the shares to her. Lydia styled her hair and donned a white dress. But as soon as she stepped out, Declan knocked her out with a club.
When she awoke, Declan had moved her to a basement. Looking at the whips and knives hanging on the wall, I shivered.
What was Declan planning to do?
What I witnessed next was unforgettable. In just an hour, Lydia was a bloody mess. She lost half an ear, her face was cut up, and her body was covered in wounds. She passed out several times, only to be awakened by Declan dousing her with cold water.
Declan’s expression was ice–cold, his voice even colder, “Still not saying where you hid Nora? The next cut will take your eyes.”
Lydia’s eyes went blank, filled with the fear of death. She looked at the approaching Declan, and suddenly laughed maniacally, “Declan, why pretend to be all loving now? Let me tell you, Nora is dead, long dead! You smashed her ashes with your own hands and stomped them into the mud!”
The next day, Declan arranged to meet Lydia, saying he would transfer the shares to her. Lydia styled her hair and donned a white dress. But as soon as she stepped out, Declan knocked her out with a club.
When she awoke, Declan had moved her to a basement. Looking at the whips and knives hanging on the wall, I shivered.
What was Declan planning to do?
What I witnessed next was unforgettable. In just an hour, Lydia was a bloody mess. She lost half an ear, her face was cut up, and her body was covered in wounds. She passed out several times, only to be awakened by Declan dousing her with cold water.
Declan’s expression was ice–cold, his voice even colder, “Still not saying where you hid Nora? The next cut will take your eyes.”
Lydia’s eyes went blank, filled with the fear of death. She looked at the approaching Declan, and suddenly laughed maniacally, “Declan, why pretend to be all loving now? Let me tell you, Nora is dead, long dead! You smashed her ashes with your own hands and stomped them into the mud!”
Those words made blood vessels burst in Declan’s eyes, driving him mad. He grabbed a knife uncontrollably, stabbing Lydia in the throat, screaming, “You’re lying! You’re lying!”
I don’t know how long passed. Staring at Lydia’s mutilated body, Declan came back to his senses. He immediately went to the sink to wash the blood off his hands, muttering, “It’s too dirty. Nora doesn’t like me like this. I must clean it off.”
Declan managed to clean himself up and returned home, only to see the yellow–haired little dog sitting at the door. He smiled, “How could I forget? I said I’d teach you to recognize your name, so Nora won’t get mad when she returns.”
Buddy was a smart little dog. When Declan and I taught him things like shaking hands or spinning, he learned in one go. But this little dog just tilted its head, looking at Declan blankly. When there was no response after the eighteenth time calling its name, Declan’s fingertips pressed deeply into his palm, drawing blood.
Regret it, Declan?
But the furry friend we raised together will never come back. And neither will I.
Declan sat in silence all day, ignoring even the butler’s calls for meals. Until the hospital called, “Are you the guardian of the little one? The allergy was severe, and the heart was overburdened. He suffered sudden cardiac death and couldn’t be saved. When will you come to take the child for cremation?”
He responded like a puppet, only catching one word: “cremation.”
Then I saw him hurriedly book a flight abroad. I watched, wide–eyed, as Declan, once so proud and successful in business, knelt before the funeral home staff. He grabbed the staff’s pant leg, crying, “Please, give Nora back to me, please?”
The staff was confused, “Mr. Declan, we followed your instructions and gave Miss Nora a sea burial…”
He seemed to remember something, taking out a shiny object, “Last time, I didn’t get to give you her belongings.”
Declan looked at the diamond ring and suddenly shed tears. In the end, Declan returned to the country and erected a cenotaph for me. Looking at his pale, pain–wracked face, I felt no emotion.
It’s too late.
While he was paying his respects to me, the police found him, “Declan, you’re suspected of murder-”
Before the officer finished speaking, Declan gave a bitter smile, pulled out a fruit knife hidden in his sleeve, and stabbed it into the heart that belonged to me. As he was about to fall, he smiled, “Nora, I’m coming to join you.”
In the moment he collapsed, a beam of light rose under my feet. “Nora, your karma in this life is cleared. You may enter reincarnation and be reborn.”
I didn’t hesitate and stepped into the cycle of reincarnation.
[The End]
D
