Chapter 1His "Angel," My Dying Child, His Unforgivable Choice

The day of Annie's accident, Ethan was with his old flame getting her nails done.

I called him, begging him to come to the hospital, to see our daughter one last time.

But Ethan just accused me of being cruel, of cursing our own daughter.

I pleaded again and again, but he wouldn't budge.

Meanwhile, his old flame was posting on her Instagram story, showing off her new manicure.

"This goofball sat here like a statue waiting for me for three hours. He said he likes pink nails on me, what do you guys think? Cute?"

I stared at my phone for a long time, suddenly exhausted.

"Real cute. Tell him to come home and sign the divorce papers."

* * *

My daughter was rushed into the operating room, covered in blood. I stood outside, my legs trembling.

Because I’d held her, I was drenched in her blood, my mind replaying the image of her lying in a pool of it.

My knees gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor.

Today was Annie’s birthday. I’d only stepped out for a moment to buy a cake, and she was hit by a car. The driver yelled “serves her right” and sped off – a hit-and-run.

There were no cameras on that stretch of road. The police arrived quickly.

I somehow managed to call 911.

On the way here, I tried calling my husband, Ethan, but his phone went straight to voicemail.

A doctor came out, his expression grim. He handed me the critical condition forms.

"The surgery is extremely high-risk. You need to prepare yourself."

Hearing those words felt like a giant, invisible hand squeezing my heart, making it hard to breathe.

"Doctor, please, you have to save my daughter! Please! She’s only five! She’s just five years old!"

He hesitated, then urged me to sign the consent forms quickly.

I forced myself to stay calm, to hold back the tears, and signed my name with a shaking hand.

I tried calling Ethan again.

Even though we were fighting, this was about Annie. He couldn’t be that cold.

After several tries, he finally picked up.

Like finding a lifeline, I burst into tears. "Ethan… get to the hospital! Now! Annie… Annie was in an accident!"

There was silence on the other end for a moment, then his voice, cold. "Sarah, that's enough. How could you be so twisted? What kind of stunt are you pulling now? Cursing Annie like that."

He didn’t believe me?

I choked back tears, trying to sound calm. "Ethan, I'm not kidding. Annie was hit by a car. She's at City General right now. Please, I'm begging you, just come!"

"The doctor… the doctor already said it’s critical…" I stammered out.

He was clearly annoyed. "Last time it was a fever, now it's a car accident. Stop the drama, Sarah. I have a company party tonight. I'll bring her a cake later. Gotta go!"

Before I could say another word, the line went dead.

I stared at my phone in despair. He just hung up?

Even if we were fighting, this was our child!

My hand clutching the phone felt ice-cold. Tears dripped onto the screen. The light above the operating room door was still on. I stared at it, my mind drifting back.

Ethan was a model. He had this arrogant air about him, fiercely driven in everything he did. That’s what drew me in.

He was struggling at first, barely getting any gigs.

I was his biggest fan. After relentlessly pursuing him, he finally gave me a chance.

He said, "I'm not very good at loving someone."

Tears streamed down my face, but I smiled and nodded. It’s okay, I told him, I’ll love you enough for both of us.

I hustled for him, sending out his resume everywhere, networking, getting him gigs, always asking them to keep my involvement a secret.

He was ambitious; he seized every opportunity.

After we got together, he took care of everything for me, treated me well.

He knew I wanted to pursue photography, so he used his savings to send me to school.

As life got better and his career took off, he got busier, but he was still good to me.

But I always sensed a distance in his kindness.

It wasn't that he couldn't love; it was like someone else already lived permanently in his heart.

The day Annie had a dangerously high fever, I panicked.

I called him countless times. He didn't come home until the middle of the night, after her fever had already broken.

He accused me of lying to get his attention.

Later, I found out that Chloe, his old flame, had returned to the country that day.

I secretly followed him to the airport when he went to pick her up.

Chloe was crying hysterically. Without a second thought, Ethan pulled her into his arms.

I clearly heard him promise to protect her from now on.

Later, they went to an amusement park. Just as they were about to get on the Ferris wheel, I called him, demanding he come home.

Back when we were dating, I'd playfully asked him to ride a Ferris wheel with me. I'd heard that if a couple kissed at the top, they'd stay together forever.

He'd called me childish, saying he hated places like that.

Trembling, I asked him why he was going now.

The irritation in his eyes was the last straw. We argued.

He shut down, coldly throwing these words at me before starting the silent treatment:

"Sarah, I thought you were different from other women. Turns out you're just as unreasonable."

"Chloe saved my life. I owe her."

The sound of another family crying nearby snapped me back to the present.

I frantically stared at the operating room door.

Annie was still in surgery. My heart ached so much I couldn't breathe.

It’s okay, it’s okay, as long as he still loves our daughter.

But now…

My hand trembled uncontrollably. My heart clenched. My Annie.

I sank to my knees, praying desperately for her safety.

But my hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

I pulled out my phone, intending to record a video, to prove I wasn't joking.

But then I saw a post from one of his colleagues.

They were at a company event, but he wasn't in the photos.

The next second, his old flame, Chloe, posted on her Instagram. A picture of her freshly manicured nails.

"This goofball sat here like a statue waiting for me for three hours. He said he likes pink nails on me, what do you guys think? Cute? 😉"

He had liked the post.

I zoomed in on the photo, my hand shaking slightly.

In the reflection of the nail salon window, I saw Ethan's hand.

He was still wearing the watch I gave him last year.

A chill spread through my body. My hand fell limply to my side.

Our daughter was fighting for her life in surgery, and he was sitting with this woman while she got her nails done?

Just then, a text from him finally arrived.

"Sarah, have you had enough of your games?"

"Don't think sending me random hospital pictures you found online will make me believe you."

"Stop teaching Annie to lie with you. I'm really sick of this."

"I told you I'm at a company party. Why are you always so suspicious? Where do you think the money you spend comes from? Think about that."

Before, I would have blown up his phone, demanding why he lied to me.

But now, reading his self-righteous excuses, I just felt tired.