Flooded Heart and a Survivor's Wrath

I didn't want to endure that kind of agony again. That was why, in this lifetime, I turned to the other members of the rescue team for help instead.

I never expected Tricia to smear my name within the team, deceiving them all into refusing to come to my aid.

I watched the carefully prepared marital home—our dream home—sink beneath the floodwaters, and an aching bitterness spread through my chest.

Tricia had once told me her childhood home was a small two-story house with a courtyard. That, she said, was what truly felt like a home. So I gave up the idea of buying an apartment in the city and poured all my savings into building this house with her in her hometown village.

Back then, she had hugged me with tear-filled eyes, thanking me for giving her the home she had always dreamed of. She swore she would love me forever.

And I believed her…

How laughable.

As the water rose to my neck, I refused to sit there and wait for death.

I forced open the highest window. Amid the howling wind and torrential rain, I hoisted my mother onto the sill, then clambered up beside her, trembling.

Less than half a meter below our feet, the floodwaters surged in violent currents. Above us, the roof offered nothing to grip or brace against.

If we lost our balance and fell, death would be almost certain.

Fortunately, luck had not entirely abandoned us. Two rescue boats happened to pass nearby.

"Help!"

"Help!"

My mother and I waved frantically, shouting at the top of our lungs.

The boat in front heard us and turned in our direction.

A middle-aged couple sat aboard.

"There are two people on that window over there."

"Ma'am, young man—hang on! We're coming to get you!"

Hearing their reassuring voices, my eyes stung with sudden tears. I nodded again and again, overwhelmed with relief.

At least these strangers were willing to help.

But just as they steered the boat closer, the second rescue boat approached from behind.

On it sat Corey, along with several people he had already rescued.

The moment he saw someone trying to save me, his face twisted in disdain.

"You don't need to bother with him. He can swim, and he's got a kayak. No matter what happens, neither he nor his mother will be in danger."

He was Tricia's teammate—and her close friend. He had never once questioned her words.

Corey then turned on me, shouting, "No wonder Tricia always says Nathan is an heir from a wealthy family—yet kind and generous. And you? Just a bumpkin from some poor village, selfish to the core… She didn't wrong you at all! Michael, you're wasting rescue resources. Do you have any idea how many people might die because of you?"

With the window open, the wind drove rain straight into the house. The water level rose even faster than before.

The others aboard the boats grew increasingly anxious as Corey continued his tirade.

"Are you out of your damn mind? Who the hell dares swim in a flood like this? There's an elderly woman there too!"

"They're about to be swept away, and you're saying they shouldn't ask for help? Is it only not a waste of resources once they're dead?"

"Forget this idiot—just save them already!"

Both rescue boats surged toward me at once.

But it was already too late.

My mother had no strength left. The raging flood tore her from my grasp.

"Mom!"

My vision went red with panic. I let go immediately and plunged after her.

In that instant, my fear of water vanished.

Yet, as the flood tossed me up and down, no matter how desperately I struggled or cried for help, I couldn't save my mother—nor could I find anything to save myself.

The two rescue boats, once symbols of hope, soon disappeared from sight.

Terror gave way to dread, and dread to utter despair.

In the final moment before consciousness slipped away, I murmured in anguish, "I'm sorry, Mom… Even after being given another chance at life… I still couldn't protect you."