1 My daughter had been battling a debilitating illness for a decade. I, her mother, a leading biomedical pioneer, had finally spearheaded the team that developed the breakthrough drug to cure her. On the very day the drug was set for its clinical trial, a notification pinged on my research lab’s monitor. It was a video from the hospital, showing the treatment underway. A wave of relief washed over me. Finally, my Lily would be the first to escape the clutches of this disease, to reclaim her health. But as I clicked the video open, a cold dread began to coil in my gut. The girl receiving the experimental treatment on screen was not my daughter. Her chest bore the Global Innovation Medal, an honor I had personally designed and given to Lily. She wore the custom-designed princess gown, a lavish gift I’d commissioned for my sweet girl. But the face… it was a stranger’s. A profound unease settled over me. I instinctively switched on the live news broadcast. There, on every channel, was the girl, wearing my medal, holding the hand of an unfamiliar woman. She beamed at the camera, announcing, “I want to thank this incredible drug developer, my mom!” Inside that hospital room, amidst a chorus of praise for the imposter, my own daughter was huddled in a forgotten corner, draped in a flimsy, torn blanket. Then, a nurse brutally pulled her from view, dragging her by her matted hair. I choked on a gasp, my world dissolving into a suffocating rage. How dare they treat my daughter like that? Did they truly believe she had no one watching over her, no one to fight for her? I meticulously re-checked the experimental data. Yes, this batch of the synthesized drug was flawless, a triumph. Just then, my assistant, Marcus, knocked on my office door. “Dr. Hayes,” he announced, “the hospital we’re partnering with sent a video of your daughter’s treatment.” I immediately pushed aside my instruments, my heart thrumming with anticipation. I hadn’t been home in ages, consumed by this very research. Videos were my only window into Lily’s world. But the moment I clicked play, something felt profoundly wrong. The girl in the video was beautifully dressed, radiating a pretty, almost angelic charm. Around her neck hung the Global Innovation Medal—mine, a singular, unique achievement no one else in the world possessed. Yet, the girl wearing my medal wasn't my daughter. A deep sense of bewilderment grew. I called Mark, my husband. “Sarah, honey, it’s amazing! Lily just got the new drug, and her vitals normalized instantly! Don’t you worry your head about a thing.” “Your student, Chelsea, is here, taking full charge of Lily’s treatment. Don’t you trust her?” “You just keep focusing on your groundbreaking research overseas, keep contributing to humanity! Lily just told me how grateful she is, said she wants to be just like you when she grows up!” Mark’s voice was filled with such conviction, yet the gnawing unease persisted. I switched on the television, tuning into the national news. My drug was a world-class masterpiece; every channel seemed to be broadcasting the story. The image that flashed on screen hit me like a physical blow. The “renowned pioneer” featured in the broadcast was Chelsea Greene, my very own student. And there, in the corner of the hospital room, my Lily was being dragged out by her hair by a hospital staff member! A wave of panic surged through me. I frantically dialed Lily’s attending physician, my voice trembling as I demanded to know how they dared to do such a thing. “Hello, this is Lily Hayes’ mother…” Before I could finish, Dr. Peterson, the attending physician, sighed heavily. “Mrs. Hayes, I know what you’re going to say, but the hospital has to make money too. Stopping treatment was an unavoidable choice, unless you can pay the overdue medical bills.” “You need to understand, Lily’s treatment has been in arrears for three years now. If it weren’t for Dr. Greene’s benevolence, considering you were under her tutelage, and her willingness to subsidize your daughter five hundred dollars a month, your daughter’s treatment would have been stopped three years ago.” “So, that’s the situation. Either you pay up, or you wait for your daughter to succumb to her illness. The hospital genuinely can’t do anything more.” Dr. Peterson hung up, leaving me utterly stunned. Three years of overdue medical bills? Under Dr. Greene’s tutelage? The pieces clicked into place, chillingly, as I remembered Chelsea Greene’s face on the television. Because I had spent so long abroad, conducting research, maintaining a private profile, Chelsea Greene had audaciously taken my place, impersonating me. And she had used the breakthrough drug I developed for my daughter, on her daughter! My heart ached with pain, burning with a searing rage. All thoughts of my research vanished. “Marcus! Book me the first flight home! I’m going back to the States, now!” 2 I landed back in the States that very day and rushed straight to the hospital. I was going to see, with my own eyes, who dared mistreat my daughter when the real Dr. Sarah Hayes stood before them. But the moment I stepped through the hospital’s main entrance, I ran straight into my husband, Mark Hayes. Mark visibly flinched when he saw me, his pupils dilating in shock. “Sarah, honey, what are you doing back so suddenly? You didn’t even say anything…” He stammered, offering a strained, nervous laugh, while subtly tugging at his collar. I caught a glimpse of a tell-tale hickey peeking out from beneath. I smiled, a cold, brittle curve of my lips. “Oh, I decided to surprise you, darling.” Whether it would be a pleasant surprise or a devastating shock would depend entirely on what he’d been up to while I was away. I deliberately traced a finger over the red mark on his neck. “Mosquitoes are quite aggressive here, aren’t they?” “Haha, yeah, they sure are. Got bit without even noticing. Looks a bit… suggestive, doesn’t it? Good thing you’re so sharp, honey.” He quickly changed the subject. “Speaking of which, I even bought Lily the world’s best mosquito repellent! She just loved it.” Hearing him mention Lily, my brow furrowed imperceptibly. I kept my voice even. “I saw something on TV today. What happened to our daughter’s custom gown? Did it get a knock-off version?” I even pulled out my phone, showing him a screenshot. The girl in the photo bore a striking resemblance to Chelsea Greene, but every single accessory she wore belonged to Lily: the diamond tiara, the sapphire necklace. Seeing those cherished items adorning another girl’s body made my heart bleed. My Lily, who should have been cherished and pampered, had been left neglected and abused under Mark and Chelsea Greene’s supposed care. Meanwhile, this child, with no real ties to us, had usurped my daughter’s place, not only stealing her life but even receiving her experimental treatment and giving interviews to reporters. Faced with the photo, Mark’s composure crumbled into a panicked mess, but he desperately tried to hide it from me, forcing a strained calm. “That’s Chelsea Greene’s daughter, Tiffany, honey. You’ve been away so long, you might not know, but Tiffany and our Lily are the best of friends.” “Lily often gives Tiffany her things. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t listen. If she could give away people, I suspect she’d give us away too, haha!” “Is that so?” I asked, my gaze piercing him. Mark stiffened. “Sarah, what’s wrong? Your expression is so… strange.” I fought to keep my voice steady, enduring his blatant lies. “You’d better be clear. I’m back now. You remember what happens when you lie to me.” “Where is our daughter, really? And all those medical funds I sent for her over the years, where did they actually go?!” Mark hadn’t expected me to bring up the medical bills. He froze, utterly dumbfounded. But he still desperately tried to salvage the situation. “I gave it all to the hospital! Sarah, we’ve been together for so long, don’t you trust me?” “Are you implying that Lily hasn’t gotten better all these years because I didn’t pay her medical bills? That’s an outrageous accusation.” “You know Lily’s illness is hard to treat. Besides, Lily is such a handful, always afraid of needles and refusing to take her medicine. Even eating requires constant coaxing. She’s just been spoiled rotten, that’s why she hasn’t improved all these years.” I stared at him, my voice chillingly low. “You think I don’t know my own daughter’s temperament? Are you trying to slander her?” Lily, though sick from a young age, had always been exceptionally well-behaved and considerate. Even when she was first learning to eat, she never caused me a moment’s worry. As for taking medicine or getting shots, she would often turn around and comfort me, telling me it didn’t hurt, and that I shouldn’t be sad. How could such a sweet child possibly be the spoiled, temperamental girl Mark described? Mark quailed under my glare, reduced to a meek, deferential silence. “Where is my daughter?!” I demanded. Mark quickly summoned someone to lead me to Lily’s room. The room was lavish, yet everything inside was adorned in saccharine pinks. My daughter had never liked pink. Lily sat on the bed, dressed in an ill-fitting, but clean, hospital gown. Her eyes were red-rimmed when she saw me, her expression a mix of longing to rush into my arms and a deep-seated fear. “Mommy…” That single, soft word shattered my heart. I lunged forward, scooping her into a desperate embrace. But the moment I held her, Lily cried out in pain. Realizing something was terribly wrong, I lifted the hem of her oversized hospital gown. My daughter’s frail body was covered in bruises and cigarette burns. A wave of crushing pain swept through me. “What are these injuries?” Lily instinctively curled into a ball. “It’s… it’s just me being clumsy, Mommy. I accidentally did it…” “Don’t be scared, Lily. Tell Mommy who hurt you.” Lily shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t ask, Mommy. I can’t say. Please, don’t ask.” I held my child tightly, refusing to let go. To what extent had she been tormented, that she was afraid even to tell her own mother the truth? How much pain and humiliation had my Lily endured in all the years I was away? “Don’t be afraid,” I whispered, tears flowing freely as I gently stroked Lily’s hair. “Mommy’s back. From now on, Mommy will be here to protect you. You will never be bullied again.” I comforted her for a long time before Lily finally stopped crying. But the next second, the door to the hospital room was kicked open with a resounding crash. Standing in the doorway, a small girl, Tiffany Greene, glowered with unbridled fury. “Who let this unwanted little wretch into my room?!” “Didn’t I tell you to kick her out of the hospital this morning?” 3 I glared at the imperious little girl. She seemed utterly oblivious to my identity. “Who are you? And why are you with this little beggar in my room?” “Your room?” I scoffed, a cold sneer twisting my lips. This room had been custom-designed for Lily’s use even before I left the country. For this hospital, I had personally donated millions in cutting-edge equipment. “I don’t care who you are. Get out!” Tiffany Greene demanded, puffing out her chest. “And that little pest in your arms? If I see her here again, I swear I’ll choke her to death.” Her words ignited a furious blaze within me. But before I could react, Mark burst into the room. He quickly scooped up Tiffany, attempting to soothe her. “I’m so sorry, Sarah, honey. This is Chelsea Greene’s daughter, Tiffany. She has a… a slight mental issue and is receiving treatment here. Don’t listen to her nonsense.” “What are you talking about, Dad…?” Mark clapped a hand over Tiffany’s mouth, retreating from the room with a fawning smile directed at me. Only after they left did I realize Lily was trembling uncontrollably in my arms. She seemed terrified of Tiffany’s presence. “Lily?” Before Lily could answer, a nurse’s aide entered. “It’s time for Lily’s meal.” These people had been abusing my daughter. Why would they bother hiring an aide for her? When the aide presented the meal, Lily’s fear intensified. She clung to me, whimpering. “Don’t make me eat that, Mommy. I don’t want to eat that.” “Please, Mommy, anything but that. I’ll do anything you ask…” My daughter sobbed, tears streaming down her face, leaving me utterly bewildered. Lily had never cried during mealtime before. My gaze fixed on the food in the aide’s hand, and I suddenly understood. “Just leave the meal here. I’ll feed her myself in a bit.” “But, Mrs. Hayes…” “I said, leave it.” Though the aide was clearly reluctant, she complied. After she left, I gave the meal to Marcus, instructing him to get it tested. At the same time, I told him to pull the hospital’s security footage. I needed to know exactly what my daughter had endured here, why she was so weak and terrified. Marcus’s efficiency was commendable. But the contents of the hospital’s surveillance footage filled me with a regret that would haunt me forever. The screen showed horrific scenes: “This experimental drug should have gone to Miss Tiffany Greene! Why does the director’s memo have your name on it? It’s clearly a printing error!” “And that prestigious Global Innovation Medal you’re wearing? Did you steal it from Miss Tiffany Greene? Give it back! Your mother is just a student; how could she possibly own something like this?!” “Three years, not a single medical bill paid! What right do you have to even be in this hospital?!” I watched, horrified, as someone yanked my daughter’s hair, dragging her from her hospital bed. Then, they kicked her. My daughter struggled, crawling agonizingly across the floor. If she paused for even a moment, they would hit and kick her again. Amidst Lily’s cries of pain, Tiffany Greene appeared, a lit cigarette in her small hand. “So young, and already so rotten! No doubt your mom corrupted you.” I saw her press the burning tip of the cigarette onto my daughter’s back. Smoke rose. Lily’s raw scream of agony pierced through the screen, searing into my ears. Moments later, Marcus’s analysis of the meal came back. “Dr. Hayes, the lab results are in. These liquids contain growth-inhibiting agents. If injected into a person, they would become emaciated, their body growing progressively weaker…” My fingers dug into my palms, but I felt no pain. They dared to treat my daughter like this… Every single one of them. Every single person involved. I wouldn’t let a single one of them escape justice. Including Tiffany Greene, barely ten years old.
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