Too Late, Mr. Sanchez

Among the elite families on the north side of the Capital, everyone agreed on one thing: the true heiress the Winfields had newly taken back was an absolute lunaticarrogant, spoiled, and impossible to tame.

With so many promising young bachelors to choose from, she'd set her sights on her sister's fianc, the Sanchez family's extraordinary heir.

She'd cried, thrown fits, threatened to kill herself, and clawed her way into that engagement. And after the wedding, she wouldn't let any other woman near Ralph Sanchez.

So when Ralph, saving the fake heiress Jocelyn Winfield, let Sarah Winfield tumble down the stairs and lose her baby, the whole north-side elite waited to see the scene Sarah would surely make once she woke.

But the Sarah who woke seemed like a different personcalm and gentle. She never once mentioned the child, never once mentioned Ralph. She only made a single request of her parents.

"Dad, Mom, I want to divorce Ralph."

Ralph had just stepped into the hospital room when he heard it.

He frowned, his expression tightening, his cold eyes narrowing. "What did you say? Sarah, you want to divorce me?"

Sarah's face stayed calm. "Not allowed?"

"Just because I didn't grab you in time?" Ralph pressed two fingers to his brow, weariness in his voice. "I told you, it was an accident. It was an emergency, and Jocelyn was closest to me."

He took two steps closer, reaching to touch her shoulder as if offering a compromise. "The villa down south or the jewelry from Europewhatever you want, I've already bought it for you. Sarah, stop sulking."

"As for the child, we'll have others later."

"Are you deaf? I want a divorce." Sarah didn't so much as blink.

Her parents exchanged a glance and sighed. "Sarah, stop making a scene. It was just an accident. After all the years those two go back, were you really going to make Ralph watch Jocelyn die? Ralph still cares about you. Marriage isn't child's playhow can you talk about divorce like it's nothing?"

"That's right, Sarah. Ralph didn't choose not to save you. It's my fault, all my fault. If only it had been me who fell down those stairs."

The girl behind Ralph spoke up meekly, eyes brimming with tears as she looked at Sarah.

The moment she made a sound, her parents, who'd just been crowding around Sarah, hurried over to comfort her.

"Jocelyn, how could this be your fault?"

Even Ralph lowered his voice. "It wasn't your fault. She was the one trying to push you. You don't need to feel guilty."

Sarah laughed coldly to herself. Jocelyn had pushed her on purpose. She'd counted on the fact that no one would blame herafter all, she looked so sweet and fragile in front of everyone.

"Butbut Sarah lost the baby because of me..."

Jocelyn bit her lip, then suddenly threw herself down at Sarah's feet, sobbing. "Sarah, if you're still angry, then let my child pay for your child's life!"

Jocelyn was pregnant. The news dropped like a bomb. She was waiting for Sarah to fly into a rage, waiting for her to go mad with revenge the way she always had, and then be despised by everyone.

"Jocelyn! What nonsense are you talking about!"

Ralph watched Sarah warily, folding Jocelyn tightly into his arms.

Everyone braced for Sarah's explosion. What no one expected was that Sarah only smiled faintly. "No need. Since you're pregnant, hurry up and push Ralph to divorce me. I'll clear the spot for you right away. A child can't be without a father, after all."

The words landed, and everyone was stunned. For a moment the hospital room fell dead silent.

Sarah brushed her hair back, unbothered. No one knew that the woman standing here now was the Sarah from five years later.

In her memory, that year, when she'd heard Jocelyn was pregnant, she'd dragged her freshly miscarried body over and slapped Jocelyn across the face, then grabbed her by the hair and shoved her off the third floor.

Jocelyn had crumpled into a pool of blood, lost her baby on the spot, and would never be able to conceive again. When she woke, depression consumed her, and she slit her wrists.

After that, Sarah's whole world changed.

Her parents, grief-stricken and furious, drove her out of the Winfield house, cut off all ties, and declared they no longer had such a vicious daughter.

Ralph came to hate her with a poison that ran deep. He wouldn't divorce herstill kept her as Mrs. Sanchezyet used every means he had to make her pay.

He gave Sarah no living allowance, forbade any industry from hiring her. She could only live in the dampest basement, eat expired bread, take the most grueling odd jobs. Her body carried countless scars, and every single day she had to fight with everything she had just to stay alive.

For five years Sarah drank the dregs of suffering, sick and aching all over, until at last, unable to bear the weight, she collapsed in a hospital.

When she woke again, it was now.

Heaven had shown her mercyshe could return to the past. This time, she would stay far away from Ralph, far away from the Winfields.

"Sarah, say that again." Ralph snapped back to himself, his face darkening. "You really want to divorce me?"

"What else? Let the baby in her belly be a bastard?" Sarah's tone was cold and remote.

Ralph's long eyes narrowed slightly, as if certain she was still sulking. His manner softened, and he took hold of her shoulders, easing the strain that had drawn taut in the room.

"All right, stop being angry. Don't worry, the place of Mrs. Sanchez will always be yours. Even with Jocelyn pregnant, that won't change. Once you've healed, I'll take you to the Maldives to clear your head."

His palm was dry and warm, gripping hardthe very warmth she'd once craved most.

Sarah didn't pull away. She only looked into Ralph's eyes and found the whole thing a little funny.

Ralph was so sure she'd never actually leave, because the old Sarah had threatened divorce every time, and every time she couldn't bring herself to go through with it.

But the Sarah standing here now was the Sarah who'd been ground down for five years.

She pulled out the IV line and walked out of the room without a backward glance. "Suit yourself. I'll draw up the divorce agreement and send it to your email. Be sure to check for it."

A small string of blood beads came out with the needle. Sarah didn't even glance at it.

Once she'd left the hospital, she opened her chat with her old advisor.

"Professor, that geological survey teamI'd like to sign up."

Her advisor replied quickly.

"Sarah, think this through. This time the team is heading to the Alps. The conditions are brutal, and once you're in, it's three years. Do your husband and parents agree to this?"

Sarah typed out a few words without hesitation.

"Professor, no one can stand in my way."

"All right. You're my most gifted student, and the survey team welcomes you. I'll see you at the airport in seven days."

Sarah shut off her screen. She wouldn't look back again. But before that, she had every score to settle.

Sarah Winfield took a cab back to the home she'd shared with Ralph Sanchez. She walked into the bedroom and, numb, began gathering her things. The season's newest dresses, the priciest necklaces from the auction house, the most fully loaded designer bags from the boutiques. Ralph had given her a great deal.

But once she peeled away that mask wrapped in counterfeit affection, Sarah saw it clearly. The dresses were the lake-blue Jocelyn Winfield favored. The necklaces were the rubies Jocelyn liked. Even the bags were styles Jocelyn preferred.

Back then, drowning in that so-called love, she'd overlooked the contempt and the mockery in Jocelyn's eyes every single time the girl looked at her.

Sarah gave a bitter little laugh. Married this long, and Ralph probably still had no idea what she actually liked.

She crouched on the floor and went through everything piece by piece, until she came to an ice-jade pendant. She turned it over. Engraved on the back, tiny, was the letter "J." It had been custom-made. Given to the wrong woman.

None of it mattered anymore. She didn't cry. She just took photos, then packed away a few old belongings from before.

One simple suitcase, light as though she herself had never existed.

Once she'd packed part of her things, Sarah called Byron Simmons, a divorce lawyer with a considerable reputation in the field.

"Lawyer Simmons, draft me a divorce agreement."

Those five years were like a nightmare, reminding her at every hour that she was nothing but a stray dog everyone had thrown away. She couldn't wait to leave this place.

The moment she had the divorce agreement, Sarah emailed it straight to Ralph. But Ralph didn't respond.

For days on end, Ralph didn't come home, as if he were waiting for Sarah to bow her head. He spent those days at Jocelyn's side.

The entertainment headlines exploded, again and again. One day they caught him down on one knee tying Jocelyn's shoelace. The next, they caught him tenderly shielding Jocelyn on her way into the auction house.

This was his usual move. The old Sarah had swallowed it whole, going to grovel and apologize every single time.

Now, lying on the bed, Sarah felt an unexpected calm. She should have known long ago. She'd been the cuckoo in the wrong nest. Ralph had never wanted the Winfields' true heiress. He only wanted Jocelyn. No matter how hard she'd tried, it had made no difference.

She scrolled through the news screenshots, her finger dragging across them, saving each one, and along with the earlier photos of the jewelry, sent them all to Byron.

"Evidence of the marital gifts is complete. For years Ralph gave gifts under the guise of gifting his wife, when the actual recipient was Jocelyn Winfield. Suspected transfer of marital assets."

"Public intimacy with a third party during the marriage. Chain of evidence supplemented."

If Ralph refused to sign the divorce agreement, she would take this evidence and sue for divorce.

Over those days she'd done a great deal, methodically. Saying goodbye to close friends, settling the sponsorship contracts she had on hand, handing off her work, run off her feet with it all.

By the time she saw Ralph and Jocelyn again, three days had passed. It was at Harry Harris's birthday banquet.

Harry was a man of great standing and respect, one of the few who had shown her any kindness back when she'd just been recognized into the Winfield family.

"Sis, you came."

Jocelyn slipped nimbly through the perfumed, glittering crowd, drifting over like a butterfly, her eyes bright with a smile as they settled on the necklace at Sarah's throat.

"Is it this season's new piece, Sis? What a coincidence, I have one too."

Following Jocelyn's gaze, Sarah took in the necklace hanging at that fair throat. Its ruby was clearly larger than the one on hers.

Her guess had been right. All these years of gifts had been what Ralph wanted to give Jocelyn. Hers were only the scraps.

Ralph stood at Jocelyn's side in the posture of a guardian. A talented man, a beautiful woman, a well-matched pair.

His expression turned uneasy, and just as he was about to explain, Sarah smiled. "Yours is lovely too."

She wouldn't care about these trivial little details anymore. None of it mattered.

Before the banquet began, Jocelyn tugged Sarah away with a smile, saying playfully, "I want a few private words with my sister. Ralph, you're not allowed to follow."

Ralph watched Sarah, uneasy, his eyes full of warning. He leaned in, his voice low and rough. "Nothing can happen to the baby in Jocelyn's belly. Sarah, you know where the line is. Don't make me angry."

Sarah turned her head and glanced at him. The look in her eyes was calm, calm enough that Ralph felt an inexplicable flicker of panic. Then she brushed Jocelyn's hand off and eased back a step. "Say whatever you have to say right here. I don't think we're close enough for private words."

Jocelyn smiled and leaned in close. "It's about your grandmother's keepsake."

Sarah's face changed. Before she was recognized into the Winfield family, she and her grandmother had leaned on each other to survive. Later, when her grandmother died, Judy Winfield had found it all bad luck and thrown out everything her grandmother left behind.

She went with Jocelyn all the same. But before she did, her finger silently pressed the record button inside her pocket.

Jocelyn wanted to set a trap for her. But this time, Sarah would not walk into any trap empty-handed.

Jocelyn's steps halted at a corner on the second floor, out of everyone's sight. She smiled sweetly, her eyes brimming with provocation.

"Sis, if I were to fall from up here, do you think Mom and Dad would throw you out of the Winfield family?"

The words had barely left her mouth when Jocelyn threw herself backward and fell, the enormous crash startling everyone below.

"Crack!"

Watching Jocelyn Winfield crumple onto the floor, Judy Winfield was the first to rush over.

Her hands and feet had gone ice-cold. She struck Sarah Winfield hard across the face, her voice shrill. "Jocelyn already knelt down and apologized to you. What more revenge do you want? How can you be so vicious? How did I ever end up with a daughter like you? Get out of my sight!"

"If anything happens to Jocelyn, I will never let you off!"

A high-pitched ringing filled Sarah's ears, and for a moment she couldn't hear. She cupped her cheek and sank to the floor, as if she'd been thrown back to that hopeless afternoon five years ago.

Everyone's faces twisted as they accused her, screaming curses until their voices broke.

It was the nightmare she would never forget.

"It wasn't me!"

Sarah convulsed slightly, as if from shock. Why, when she'd already swallowed her grievance, would these people still not let her go?

She snapped back to herself, pulling free of the collapse rising inside her, and said coldly, "I didn't push her!"

Sarah pressed the recorder gently. She was waiting for the scene to blow up a little more. She wanted every single person to see Jocelyn Winfield's true face.

The commotion swelled. Judy wouldn't hear a word of it. Eyes red, she clawed at Sarah. "You think Jocelyn's insane? That she'd just throw herself down the stairs?"

"Enough."

A cool, faintly hoarse voice cut through the uproar. Ralph Sanchez stood at the third-floor railing, leaning against it, his expression somber.

"Ralph, you're up there?"

Judy looked up, startled, and every gaze in the room turned to Ralph.

Judy let out a cold laugh. "Sarah won't admit it no matter what. Ralph, you tell us. Did Jocelyn fall on her own, or did Sarah push her? Let's put her to rest for good."

Ralph had been on the second floor. From there he must have seen exactly what happened at the turn of the staircase!

Sarah rose and looked straight at him, her voice soft. "You were on the third floor the whole time. You saw everything, didn't you? I didn't push Jocelyn."

Her eyes were rimmed red, and she looked utterly helpless, yet her other hand pressed the recorder on again.

Ralph steadied her, smoothing her gown, a flicker of tenderness in his eyes. But when he lifted his gaze, he saw Jocelyn lying in Judy's arms.

Her face was terrified and bloodless, as though she might shatter in the next breath. She was, after all, the girl he'd carried in his heart for so many years, and she was carrying a child now. Ralph couldn't help but hesitate.

He gripped Sarah's shoulder, his expression gentle, and told himself that even if the Winfields despised Sarah, she was still their true daughter by blood, and blood could not be changed.

But Jocelyn was only their adopted daughter. If she fell out of their favor, she'd be finished for life.

After a moment's thought, Ralph pressed his lips together and said, one word at a time, "I saw it. Sarah pushed Jocelyn."

What? The color drained from Sarah's face in an instant. She tilted her head up in disbelief, as if she had never known Ralph at all.

So whether it was five years ago or five years later, Ralph's heart would never lean toward her.

She had always thought all the torment and pain of her past life, and Ralph's hatred of her, were because she had pushed Jocelyn.

But only now did she understand. That wasn't it.

"Crack!" Sarah lifted her hand and slapped Ralph across the face.

Sarah defended herself one last time, then silently switched off the recorder in her pocket. That one line was enough.

"Sarah Winfield!"

Rolf Winfield's face was livid. Nothing mattered more to him than his reputation, and to have his own daughter harm his beloved adopted daughter in front of all the elite of the Capital's north side enraged him all the more.

If this wasn't handled properly, wouldn't everyone learn that the Winfield family had no proper upbringing?

Rolf's hand came down across her face.

"What did your sister ever do to you, that you keep bullying her again and again? Come home with me!"

One of the wealthy wives let out a cold sneer. "Raised in the slums. No wonder that wildness can't be scrubbed out of her. She needs a good, hard lesson."

The birthday banquet had been thrown into chaos, yet Old Mr. Harris showed no anger. He only urged Rolf, "Sarah isn't that kind of child."

But Rolf wouldn't listen. He forced Sarah home and brought out the rattan cane.

"There's a Sanchez grandchild in your sister's belly. If anything happens to it, can you bear the consequences?"

Sarah struggled, unwilling to yield. "Dad, have you forgotten? I'm your real daughter! I'll say it one more time. I didn't push her. She threw herself down!"

"Enough!"

Sarah Winfield froze where she stood, pinned by the disappointment in Judy Winfield's eyes.

Judy pressed a hand to her chest, her voice breaking with grief. "If I'd known you couldn't stand the sight of Jocelyn, I'd have rather my own daughter had died!"

The words landed like a stone. Sarah went rigid.

When she'd first been brought back into the family, Judy had been kind to her too, gentle and tender. Even so, it had never come close to how she treated Jocelyn.

Sarah understood now. Even if she played them the recording, they wouldn't repent. They'd only despise her for being a scheming, calculating thing.

She drew in a slow breath. If that was how it was, then there was no reason left to spare their dignity for the sake of some so-called family ties.

She switched on the camera built into her recorder.

The barbed rattan cane came down on her without mercy, and her skin was soon torn to a bloody mess.

She forced her head up and saw their faces clearly. Cold. Contemptuous.

By the ninety-ninth stroke, Sarah was soaked through with cold sweat. Only once she was sure the whole punishment had been captured did she let herself pass out, at peace.

She woke in the hospital. Ralph Sanchez was gently dressing the wounds on her arm.

"Sarah, you're awake. Does it still hurt? I had the doctor give you painkillers."

He tended to her with painstaking care, bringing her the chicken soup from her favorite place, trying to feed her.

Sarah knocked the soup aside and turned her face away.

"You saw it. You saw the whole thing. You saw Jocelyn fall on her own. Why? Why did you lie?"

Her voice was ice as she demanded it. Before, she could still convince herself that none of them knew she'd been falsely accused, that that was why they always took Jocelyn's side.

But now Ralph had watched every second of it, and he'd still chosen Jocelyn. It left her lost in a deep, bewildering fog.

Then what had those five years of suffering been for?

"Why? Just tell me why," she said at last, no longer sure whether she was demanding it of Ralph or of her father and mother.

"Ralph, I'm your wife. I'm a person too. Why do you all defend Jocelyn, over and over again? Why?"

Sarah was in agony, and she was demanding an answer for the woman she'd been in her last life.

When she moved as if to tear out her IV line, Ralph caught her hand. "Sarah, calm down."

He pulled her in to soothe her, his voice low. "Listen to me. I had my reasons. You're the Winfields' real daughter. No one will ever do anything to you. But Jocelyn was adopted. If Uncle and Aunt Winfield found out, how would she go on living?"

"So?" Sarah steadied herself and asked it back, cool on the surface, though something in her face was quietly coming apart. "So you chose to let her slander me, chose to make my life miserable. Is that it?"

"You knew. You knew none of them like me!"

Ralph held her tighter, promising it again and again. "Don't cry. You still have me, Sarah. I'll never betray you. I won't ever let you get hurt again."

Liar. All of them, liars. Ralph was Jocelyn's accomplice.

Sarah scoffed inwardly and pushed his hand away, exhausted. "Get out. I'm tired. I want to rest."

"And there won't be any 'again' for us."

There hadn't been in her last life. There wouldn't be in this one.

Ralph didn't catch the second part. He tucked the blanket around her and said gently, "Then rest well."

At the door, Ralph suddenly pressed a hand to his chest, gripped by the feeling that he'd lost something important.

He turned and stared, unwavering, at Sarah's serene, sleeping face.

It was fine. Sarah loved him to the bone. Whatever he did, she would forgive him.

Once the door shut, Sarah opened her eyes, transferred the footage to her phone, and sent a copy to Lawyer Simmons.

"Once the divorce goes through, I'm suing Rolf Winfield for domestic abuse."

The pain she'd endured last life, she would pay back this time, piece by piece.

"Sarah Winfield!"

Sarah was still deep in sleep when someone yanked her up by the collar and slammed her to the floor.

"What did you do? Do you hate Jocelyn that much? She was only messing around with you, and you'd take her life for it?"

Sarah's whole body burned. Feverish and hazy, she pieced the truth together out of Ralph's words.

Jocelyn had been kidnapped.

A pack of thugs had dumped her in an abandoned warehouse and tormented her for a full day and night. When she was rescued, her clothes were in tatters and she was covered in blood.

"You still dare say it wasn't you?" Fury blazed in Ralph's eyes. "My people looked into it. That gang lives right there in the slums where you spent more than ten years. Sarah, you all crawled out of the same slums. You're going to tell me you don't know them?"

"You're the wife I married in front of everyone, the rightful Mrs. Sanchez. We won't press charges against you. But you owe Jocelyn an explanation. You may be the true eldest daughter of the Winfields, but that doesn't give you the right to abuse her however you please."

Sarah nearly laughed. The whip wounds on her back scraped against the icy tile, the pain washing her vision white, but she didn't cry out. She only turned her head a fraction to look at Ralph.

"Who exactly has been abusing whom this whole time?"

From the moment the Winfields took her back, Jocelyn had loathed her to the bone. Fragile and pitiful in front of others, she mocked and humiliated Sarah every way she could when no one was watching.

But because Mr. and Mrs. Winfield had raised Jocelyn since she was small, and because Ralph had grown up alongside Jocelyn, they all assumed Jocelyn could do no wrong. The one at fault had to be her, the girl raised for more than ten years in the slums.

Sarah laughed, badly timed as it was. She lifted her chin and, past all caring, said, "So what do you want me to do?"

Looking at her indifference, Ralph felt a sudden flicker of unease. But the image of Jocelyn covered in blood came back to him, and his expression went cold again. "Whatever Jocelyn went through, you'll go through the same."

Sarah agreed without any expression at all.

"Fine."

The instant Ralph came storming in, she'd pressed the auto-dial on her phone to call the police. They were probably already on their way.

There was no point reasoning with a man like Ralph. Better to let the law do the talking.

This time it was Ralph who was caught off guard. He'd expected Sarah to beg, to cry, to plead. He hadn't expected this kind of calm.

An anger he couldn't name surged up in him, and his face turned to ice.

The bodyguards dragged Sarah to the mountain retreat. Jocelyn lay in bed weeping, Mr. and Mrs. Winfield keeping watch at her side, their eyes full of tenderness.

"I don't understand why my sister still won't let me go. She's right to hate me. After all, I stole more than ten years of her life."

The choked voice, paired with Jocelyn's innocent, pale face, made it impossible not to ache for her.

Ralph tucked the blanket in around her and said gently, "It isn't your fault either. Don't cry. I'll have Sarah apologize to you."

Sarah dredged up a sneer. "I'm sorry."

Jocelyn turned her face aside and let the tears fall. "I suppose an apology is all I deserve. What can I expect, being nothing but a fake heiress. My sister could ask for my death and it would be fine, let alone a kidnapping."

Ralph lowered his eyes and soothed her softly. "It won't stop at an apology, Jocelyn. To make up for it, whatever you went through, she'll go through too."

He turned back, and his brow furrowed when he took in Sarah's thin clothes and bloodless face.

Jocelyn caught the shift in his expression at once and said softly, "Ralph, I suddenly have a craving for that old duck soup place on the west side. Would you go get some for me?"

Ralph nodded and glanced at the pack of thugs. "Get to work."

With that he left without a backward glance, off to buy Jocelyn her soup.

He didn't necessarily mean to torture Sarah. He only wanted the gang to give her a scare.

Sarah was dumped in the empty lot behind the retreat. She switched on her voice recorder.

The thugs closed in, sneering. They'd done enough dirty work in their time that a few slaps came easy.

"Sarah Winfield, now that you've flown up the branch and turned into a phoenix, don't forget your old acquaintances. Us boys were your loyal admirers back in the day. If that rabid dog Wilfred Vance hadn't stood in the way, you'd have been mine long ago."

"But it's not too late even now. If that Miss Winfield hadn't paid us to help her put on a little show, I don't think I'd ever have gotten the chance to touch you in this life. What do you say?"

Slick, sickening hands roamed over her body, mixed with words she couldn't bear to hear. Sarah's head spun, but she forced herself to stay calm.

The sound of fabric tearing cut deep into her. A cramp knotted low in her belly, and she pushed the words out through sheer will.

"I've already called the police."

At the mention of the police they finally pulled back. By the time they realized something was wrong, a large pool of blood had already spread out beneath her.

"Boss, she's bleeding!"

Panic-stricken and scattered, they instinctively bolted.

"Sarah!"

Just before she lost consciousness completely, Sarah thought she heard a familiar voice, low and hoarse, a little like Ralph's.

Probably just her imagination. Wasn't this whole gang acting on Ralph's orders?

In that last thread of awareness, she knew with perfect clarity: hiring men to hurt someone, deliberate assault, that was more than enough to make Jocelyn and Ralph choke on the consequences.

Sarah closed her eyes. Five years was time enough for her to grow.

Sarah woke to the pain. It felt like someone was smashing her lower belly to pulp with something blunt, over and over, until she was shaking cold all over.

Inside the operating room a nurse's voice came fast and sharp:

"Massive hemorrhage! Her pressure's still dropping! Where's the blood bank? Someone call the blood bank, now!"

Another voice answered her, taut with panic:

"I already called. They said all the blood's been transferred out!"

"What?"

"There's a Miss Winfield over in obstetrics with some light bleeding, and Mr. Sanchez had the entire blood supply diverted to her. He said Miss Winfield comes first."

Sarah lay on the operating table, her mind sinking and surfacing in slow waves. She wasn't surprised. She was only very tired.

Beside her ear, that frantic, trembling voice: "How can they do this? This patient is critical!"

"Nothing we can do. Everyone knows how precious that one in obstetrics is. We don't have the pull to get blood released right now."

Sarah didn't even have the strength left to cry out. The world went black in front of her. With the last thread of strength she had, she found the nurse's hand.

"Please, call the emergency contact on my phone. He can get blood."

Her emergency contact was her assistant. With her connections on the north side of the Capital, getting blood was something they could manage.

She didn't need Ralph Sanchez to survive. But this debt, she would remember.

When she woke again it was the following afternoon. A nurse gently slowed her IV drip. "The surgery went reasonably well. Rest properly and there won't be any lasting damage."

"Creak."

The door swung open. Jocelyn Winfield walked in and mildly saw the nurse out.

"Sorry to trouble you. I'm just here to see my sister."

She leaned against the door, her lower belly slightly rounded, tilting her head as she looked at Sarah. Her voice was sweet. "Sister, how are you still not dead?"

Her expression didn't change, still pretty and coy, as if she were asking after Sarah's health. "The whole blood supply was with me. I really thought you wouldn't pull through."

"Are you waiting for Ralph? He's not coming. Calling the police already set him off. Sister, you really are naive. No proof, no evidence. Who's going to believe those men were hired by me?"

Sarah lay back against the pillow, her face pale to the point of near translucence, but her expression was cold.

She picked up the voice recorder and pressed play.

The thug's voice came, low. "The second Miss Winfield paid me to put on a show with her."

Sarah smiled, calm. "Care to provoke me again?"

Jocelyn's grip tightened on the door handle. "You wouldn't dare... and even if you release it, no one will believe you!"

"Heh." Sarah gave a small, unhurried laugh. "Then let's try."

Jocelyn's face went white. She spun around and ran out.

Sarah leaned back against the pillow and closed her eyes for a while. Ten minutes later, Ralph came.

He looked exhausted. "Sarah, Jocelyn told me everything."

"The kidnapping." Ralph paused. "She hired those men herself."

Sarah shot back, "And? What are you trying to say?"

Ralph was silent for a long time, so long that Sarah thought he wouldn't answer at all.

"She's only an adopted daughter. If this gets out, if Mr. and Mrs. Winfield hear of it, if outsiders hear of it, she won't be able to stay in the Winfield family, or on the north side of the Capital, at all."

Sarah nodded. "So you're going to keep covering for her."

Ralph lifted his eyes to her, his gaze tangled with something she couldn't read. "Sarah, Jocelyn didn't mean it. She was just too scared, scared we'd stop looking out for her. She's young, so couldn't you just"

"Ralph." Sarah cut him off, her tone flat. "This recording, I'm willing not to release it."

"But you'll have to sign something."

The day before, she'd had Lawyer Simmons draft a share transfer agreement overnight. She wanted five percent of the Sanchez Group shares held in Ralph's name.

When Ralph saw the agreement, he let out a breath of relief. He signed quickly, without even reading the terms carefully. In his mind, five percent in exchange for a recording that could ruin Jocelyn was no loss at all.

And more than that, Sarah wanting money set him at ease. What he feared most was her wanting nothing at all.

After he signed, he reached out to touch Sarah's face. She turned her head aside and avoided it.

"Rest well."

Sarah said nothing. She already had what she wanted. This five percent would, one day, deal Ralph a fatal blow.

The next morning, Sarah got an anonymous text: Want it back? Meet me in the freezer.

Attached was a photo of a bracelet. A bracelet she knew all too well. Her grandmother's keepsake.

She'd guessed right. Jocelyn really did have it.

Sarah stood up. She knew it was a trap, and she went anyway. Not because she was a fool, but because she needed Jocelyn to take the bait.

Sure enough, the moment she stepped into the walk-in freezer, the door slammed shut behind her.

The cold seeped in through every seam. Sarah wrapped her arms tight around herself. She'd told the assistant before coming in. Half an hour more, and he'd bring people to open the freezer.

What she didn't expect was that the one who came wasn't the assistant. It was Ralph, his face taut with panic.

She heard him calling her name over and over, a raw, frantic edge in his voice she'd never heard before.

Ralph held her close to warm her, his fingers shaking worse than hers.

She tricked you into coming here, didn't she?

Sarah's lips were a bruised purple. She couldn't speak.

I've already punished her. His voice dropped low. Jocelyn went too far. I locked her in the storeroom. She's terrified, Sarah. Just forgive her this once, all right?

Sarah's frozen lashes trembled. So his panic hadn't been for her at all. It was fear that Jocelyn might be punished for this.

She slowly pushed Ralph away, dug her phone out from under the pillow, and pressed three keys.

Hello, I need to report a crime.

Ralph froze. What are you doing?

Sarah spoke each word slowly and clearly. Someone deliberately hurt me and locked me in a freezer. I have her IP address.

She hung up and watched the color drain from Ralph's face, inch by inch.

Sarah

Ralph. She let out a soft laugh. When you do something wrong, you should be punished.

Jocelyn was still crying when the police took her away. I was just messing around with my sister!

Ralph planted himself in the doorway, shielding Jocelyn, but the evidence was airtight. He couldn't stop them.

The next day, to Sarah's surprise, Jocelyn was released. Ralph had hired the best lawyer, had the whole thing reclassified as a family dispute, and with Jocelyn being pregnant, she walked free that same day.

That night, Jocelyn slit her wrist in the bathroom. Not deep, just enough to make the blood look terrifying.

She threw herself into Ralph's arms, her face ghost-white. The holding cell was so dark, I was so scared. I was only playing a joke on my sister. How could she be so cruel! I'd be better off dead!

And in the middle of Jocelyn's sobbing, Ralph made his decision.

He looked at Sarah, his expression grave. Jocelyn's in a fragile state. Two days from now, I want to hold a wedding for her, to help her steady herself.

Don't worry, Sarah. I won't register the marriage with her. I just want to make her happy. After all, what you did really was a bit too much.

What does that have to do with me? Sarah's voice was flat.

I want you to be the bridesmaid at the wedding, to give Jocelyn a good showing. Let everyone see that Mrs. Sanchez herself attended in person, proof that we're not having an affair, that Jocelyn isn't the other woman.

The hard lines of Ralph's face softened.

Sarah, you have to help her.

You're insane. A thin ache pricked at Sarah's chest. She couldn't understand it, no matter how she tried, how Ralph could say something like this.

Once she had her emotions under control, Sarah nodded. Fine.

She was planning to leave anyway.

Ralph froze. He'd expected Sarah to make a scene, to refuse. He hadn't expected her to agree so readily.

So readily that an uneasiness he couldn't name rose up in him. But the urge to comfort Jocelyn quickly pushed it back down.

Two days later, the wedding went ahead as scheduled. Once the ceremony was over, Sarah and Jocelyn sat together in the dressing room, removing their makeup.

Jocelyn's smile was smug and taunting. So, sister, how does it feel?

Sarah had her back to her. Before she could get a word out, she heard a scream.

Ah!

The door burst open. A hand clamped over Sarah's mouth and nose, and she blacked out within moments.

When she woke again, she and Jocelyn were lashed tight to chairs. Before them stretched an abandoned warehouse, and a scar-faced man with a cigarette clamped between his teeth, his whole face twisted with menace, shouted toward the door: "Ralph Sanchez, last year you cost me two of my brothers. Today we settle the account."

"I'm a fair man. You killed my brothers, so I touch your people. Even, isn't it? Today, your wife and your mistress you only get to walk out with one."

Ralph's gaze wandered between Sarah and Jocelyn.

Jocelyn's face was frozen in terror, as if she might faint at any second.

Sarah, by contrast, stayed calm, her expression serene.

Ralph pressed his lips together and looked at Sarah. Something like guilt flickered in his eyes.

"I want the one on the right."

The one on the right was Jocelyn.

All at once Sarah remembered something Ralph had said to her in her last life: "Why don't you just go die?"

But why should she be the one to die?

Just as the kidnappers moved to untie Jocelyn, Sarah spoke, cool and even. "Since you're Ralph's enemy, you should strike where it hurts him most. And clearly, I may be his wife, but I'm not the person he cares about."

The scarred man froze for a beat, then clapped his hands and roared with laughter. "Well said. You've got some nerve."

He raised a hand, signaling his men to release Sarah.

Sarah worked her wrists loose, walked out of the abandoned warehouse, and left Jocelyn's terrified screams behind her.

"No! Don't come near me!"

"Jocelyn!"

Watching Jocelyn take the blows, Ralph lost his composure and charged in with his men.

Sarah watched only for a moment before she left. They had brought all of this on themselves.

The police arrived in time. Ralph got away with a broken arm, and Jocelyn with nothing worse than minor injuries.

Her flight left the next day. Sarah returned to the Sanchez house one last time, and after confirming there was nothing she wanted to take, she pushed open the door only to find bodyguards, fully assembled, blocking her way.

Ralph stepped out of the shadows, his voice low and heavy:

"Sarah, Jocelyn lost a big patch of skin off her arm. She hasn't stopped crying. Could you, could you give Jocelyn a graft? The doctor says out of all the available donors, only you and she are a match."

Sarah refused without hesitation. "No."

She let out a short laugh, her voice like a blade. "Ralph, when she locked me in that freezer, why didn't you tell her to stop? She gets one cut and you're so heartbroken you want me to patch her skin? Why don't you tell her to give me back my child?"

Ralph's expression turned cold. "Sarah, Jocelyn suffered in your place. You owe her this."

At his signal, the bodyguards pinned Sarah down, hauled her into the hospital, and got her onto an operating table.

"Get off me!"

"Ralph, this is unlawful confinement! Have you lost your mind?"

Ralph tried to soothe her. "Sarah, I'll make it up to you."

Sarah fought with everything she had, but it changed nothing. When the graft blade came down, all she felt was cold and numb.

After the long procedure, Sarah drifted under the anesthesia until the next day.

Her last thought before going under was that this time, unlawful confinement plus deliberate bodily harm this time no lawyer, however good, could save Ralph.

When she woke, she was on her feet at once, rushing toward Jocelyn's room, only to reach the doorway and find it empty.

Ralph's assistant walked in and explained. "Mrs. Sanchez, Mr. Sanchez took Miss Winfield to the temple to pray for blessings."

Sarah gave the faintest nod. "Fine."

She lingered no longer and turned to leave.

"Mrs. Sanchez, where are you going?"

Sarah didn't look back. "Stop calling me Mrs. Sanchez," she said flatly.

On the way, she sent the wedding footage to Ralph's archrival.

"Want a chance to knock Ralph down a peg? Here you go."

Then she set up a scheduled social-media post. The recording of Jocelyn throwing herself down the stairs, the full account of the freezer incident, the recording of the thugs, that whole session of the family's rattan cane all of it would go public.

Because she knew that the moment this broke, Jocelyn would play the victim to milk sympathy.

One life over again, and she had Jocelyn figured out down to the bone.

There was no reason she should be left torn to pieces while those two walked away untouched.

Then she opened her chat with Lawyer Simmons. "Lawyer Simmons, I want to sue Ralph for unlawful confinement and deliberate bodily harm. The evidence is in your inbox."

Last of all, Sarah sent to Ralph's inbox a paternity test showing that the child in Jocelyn's belly belonged to another man.

Outside the hospital, Sarah flagged down a taxi.

"To the airport."

Her flight was about to leave. Before boarding, she switched off her phone.

The freshly grafted skin on her arm was still oozing blood, but it no longer hurt. Sarah walked into the cabin and did not look back.