My Name Is on Her Cancer Diagnosis

Leonard became upset the moment he saw me with the bottle of imported wine and yelled, "What do you think you're doing, Victoria Sausby? That's a memento my father left behind!"

A memento, he said?

How thorough a person Graham must have been to have left behind a memento five years ago, despite dying 18 years ago.

This bottle of wine had clearly been given to the Zieglers by a friend of mine back when I first married Leonard.

Who knew how many of my possessions Amanda had secreted away over all these years?

In the beginning, I hadn't held it over her out of consideration for the fact that we were family. However, now that every one of them was wishing for my death, I wasn't going to play nice anymore.

I raised an eyebrow before saying with tears in my eyes, "But Mrs. Ziegler made me so much delicious food and said such touching words to me. Moreover, I'm already about to die, so what's wrong with me having a drink with my mother-in-law and sister-in-law?"

Leonard was momentarily at a loss for words. He hadn't expected me, who was usually so meek and obedient, to talk back to him, the so-called head of the family.

"That's right! Victoria's just showing Mom her respect and gratitude. Now that she's ill, Victoria won't be able to drink wine in the future, so let's just let her drink to her heart's content today! We're not stopping until we're drunk!" Cynthia declared boldly, putting extra emphasis on the word "ill".

Amanda's gloomy, awkward expression was abruptly replaced with a smile at Cynthia's words.

She graciously poured me a glass of wine immediately.

At the end of the day, she was getting along in age, so it didn't take more than a few glasses for her to become so tipsy she couldn't hold her cutlery properly.

Leonard was even more of a lightweight. He had his face pressed against the table after just two glasses of wine.

Cynthia was the only one left drinking with me.

She was still young, after all, so she started to feel nauseous after a few glasses.

I instantly thought of the research I'd done this afternoon on the adverse effects alcohol would have on patients with cervical cancer.

I quickly drew upon my lifetime's worth of acting skills and started pretending to be sick.

In order to look even more nauseous than Cynthia, I desperately pinched my thighs under the table, causing tears to stream down my face.

Cynthia's pale face was covered in cold sweat. Yet, when she saw my severe reaction, she immediately pushed away Amanda, who was attempting to soothe her.

"I'm alright, Mom. I'm fine. Hurry up and pour Victoria another glass of wine to help with her nausea," she said insistently.

Due to how immersed I was in my performance, I was genuinely starting to experience acid reflux.

I covered my mouth, ran into the toilet, and closed the door. Then, I started vomiting profusely.

While I was at it, I grabbed some of the red-colored disinfectant next to the toilet seat and poured some into the pool of vomit.

The smell of my vomit covered up the smell of the few drops of disinfectant very well, so it seemed no different from actual blood.

After a while, Amanda and Cynthia knocked on the toilet door. They were barely able to conceal the joy in their voices.

"Are you alright, Victoria? Open the door and let us in to take care of you," said Cynthia.

I hesitantly opened the door, then leaned against the doorframe in a show of weakness. "It's a terrible mess, Mrs. Ziegler. I haven't finished cleaning it up yet."

The moment Amanda heard that I wasn't done with cleaning, she pushed me aside and rushed into the toilet.

She and Cynthia leaned their heads together over the toilet, studying the vomit in it.

They looked so hilarious that I almost broke character.

After they'd both nodded in satisfaction and exchanged confident glances, I hurriedly schooled my own expression and asked weakly, "Are we still drinking?"

"Of course we are! Didn't we agree not to stop until we're all drunk?"

Cynthia and Amanda herded me back to the dining table, each holding one of my arms.

"Listen to me, Vicky—the hospital doctors are all frauds. They're all lying when they say that cancer can be cured with early and active treatment. It was also the hospital that caused your father-in-law's death back then," Amanda said strongly.

She lifted her hand to wipe away her tears, but her hand remained completely dry.

Raising her glass to me, Cynthia said in a breathless rush, "Exactly. Mom is… right, Vicky. Just… listen to Mom."

I couldn't help but scoff and ask, "Hey, Mrs. Ziegler. If it were Cinny who had cancer, would we also not seek treatment for her?"

Leonard had snapped out of his drunken stupor at some point and just so happened to overhear our conversation. He barked, "Have we been too lenient with you, Victoria? What nonsense are you spouting? What are you saying about us not seeking treatment for Cynthia if she's the one with cancer? How dare you curse my younger sister when you're about to die!"

He slapped me before I could react.

I cupped my cheek and stared straight at him.

How utterly shameless.

He ate and drank on my money, yet when things came down to it, the Zieglers' lives were worth saving while mine wasn't?

"Fine! Since you think of me that way, I might as well not be a burden on you or the Ziegler family any longer, Leonard Ziegler! Let's get divorced!" I yelled.

Amanda and Cynthia were both frightened out of their tipsiness at this. They blurted in unison, "We won't seek treatment! No matter who gets diagnosed with cancer within our family, we won't seek treatment for them!"