You Let Our Daughter Die, Then Came Back Begging

Just because of that malicious joke played by Ulysses and Grace, Wendy and I became their playthings.

A scream was trapped in my throat, filling my mouth with the metallic taste of blood. I wiped away my tears, forcing a smile as I pushed open Wendy's hospital room door.

"Wendy, Mommy brought you some chicken soup. Are you still feeling unwell?"

Wendy's face was ashen, her expression far too mature for her years. "Mom, my surgery is tomorrow, so I have to fast today."

I was dumbfounded, my mind still chaotic from Ulysses' provocation earlier. Cursing my poor memory, I tapped my forehead and picked up a cotton swab, moistening Wendy's chapped lips with water.

Her small hand gripped mine tightly, offering a comforting warmth. "Mom, is Dad still busy looking for a job? I miss him so much."

Seeing her like this, I swallowed the truth that was on the tip of my tongue. Gently patting Wendy's head, I murmured, "You'll definitely see Dad before your surgery tomorrow."

Even if I had to beg on my knees, I would make Ulysses come and accompany Wendy.

For seven years, I had been the clown in their rich people's game. Now, my pride and dignity seemed worthless.

After Wendy fell asleep, I went to confirm the surgery time with the doctor. I sat on the cold floor of the hallway, my back against the icy wall, finally starting to clear my mind.

Taking out my phone, I dialed Ulysses' number. This time, he answered quickly.

"Yasmine, what's up?" he said. "I'm entertaining investors right now. If this project goes through, we'll finally be rid of these hard days!"

For seven years, he had been placating me with these same empty promises, and each time, I had foolishly believed him.

In the beginning, Ulysses pretended to work at a construction site. Seeing his hands red and swollen, I told him to focus on finding investments while I took care of making ends meet. But instead, he spent his days fooling around, leaving Wendy and me to suffer.

The music blared on the other end of the line. He was probably on a yacht with Grace's niece.

Suppressing my anger and bitterness, I took a deep breath before speaking. "Ulysses, Wendy's surgery is tomorrow... Could you please come and be with her? You know how much she clings to you..."

He interrupted me coldly, "Yasmine, what's wrong with you lately? You know how busy I am, yet you keep bothering me! I'm working my ass off to get investments so we can have a better life!"

His self-righteous yelling left me feeling bitter. After a few moments, my voice hoarse, I said, "Ulysses, you may think I'm stupid and uncultured, but Wendy is your flesh and blood. Don't you care about her at all?"

Ulysses paused, sounding a bit flustered. "Yasmine, what nonsense are you talking? I'll finish up here as soon as I can and come to the hospital."

I glanced at Wendy through the glass-paneled door, my body trembling. Wrapped in thick blankets, she looked so frail.

I remembered her as a newborn, her eyes struggling to open, her tiny fingers grasping mine. Wendy had never been healthy, never even attended a single day of kindergarten. Ulysses and I were her entire world. But the father she depended on so completely had never truly cared about her.

Unable to hold back my sorrow, tears began to fall soundlessly.

To my surprise, Ulysses actually showed up. Maybe Wendy did matter to him, even if just a little.

His neck still bore suggestive red marks. He rushed into the hospital room in his patched-up old clothes, sweat dripping from his forehead.

A flood of mixed emotions washed over me. For a moment, I almost believed we were still that family who clung to each other through tough times. Back then, not having food didn't matter, as long as our hearts were united, we could get through anything.

Until I caught a glimpse of the gleaming gold on his wrist. That expensive watch snapped me back to harsh reality.