The Vanishing Heiress

Chapter 26

How could Megan Sullivan, who had grown up deprived of love, remain unmoved by the look in Mrs. Montgomery's eyes?

But some wounds couldn't be healed with mere words or material compensation.

Especially not after all these years.

Megan still shook her head slowly but firmly. "Mrs. Montgomery, the one thing I've understood best since the day I was born is that nothing in this world inherently belongs to anyone—not blood ties, not affection…"

She smiled under Mrs. Montgomery's sorrowful gaze. "Mom, I really did wish you could love me the way you loved Rachel. But now, I don't need that anymore. No one will die from lacking someone else's love."

Megan paused, her voice softening. "Especially not me."

It was the sharpest form of torture—or perhaps the loudest slap to the face.

Mrs. Montgomery had clung to hope the moment Megan called her "Mom," only for her face to pale at what followed.

"Megan, won't you even give me a chance to make things right?"

Before Megan could answer, the red light above the operating room flickered off.

A doctor stepped out. "Are you family? You can rest easy. Thanks to the timely medical intervention, the patient is now out of danger."

"Thank you, Doctor. When will he wake up?"

Megan stood, her bloodstained clothes unable to dull her striking resilience.

"The patient has been under considerable strain recently, so he may remain unconscious for a while. It's hard to predict—anywhere from a few hours to a couple of days," the doctor replied honestly.

"Understood." Megan nodded.

Since Ethan wouldn't wake anytime soon, there was no reason for her to stay.

"Mrs. Montgomery, could you please inform his assistant? I have work to attend to, so I'm afraid I can't stay longer."

That single utterance of "Mom" might as well have been an illusion.

Or perhaps it was just pity—a final act of charity before severing ties completely.

Mrs. Montgomery watched Megan's poised figure, her heart aching more with every passing second.

"Megan!"

She couldn't stop herself from calling out as Megan walked away.

"Is there something else?" Megan turned, puzzled.

"No." Mrs. Montgomery forced a smile. "Take care of yourself. Don't overwork."

"Thank you." Polite. Distant.

Only when Megan disappeared around the corridor did Mrs. Montgomery collapse into a chair, as if her spine had been ripped out.

She stared at the documents in her hands.

Even if Megan refused them, these things still belonged to her.

Meanwhile, in the VIP ward, Ethan Sterling lay in deep slumber, his brow furrowed even in unconsciousness.

He was dreaming of Megan again.

Her figure was indistinct, always evading his grasp.

"Megan, I was wrong. Wrong to choose a sham marriage with Rachel when it was always you I loved. Wrong to doubt you, wrong to send you to prison. Megan… is it too late to say I love you? I do. I… really do."

He reached for the fading shadow, but shadows couldn't be caught.

Even if he managed to hold on, it would dissolve in his palm.

"Megan, I'm sorry. I'll accept any punishment, give anything—just look at me again. Smile at me. Let me love you."

How pitiful.

That he could only confess his love in dreams.

But Megan would never know.

No. 8, Cloudview Road, HeSheng Residences.

Exhausted, Megan stripped off her clothes and stood before the floor-length mirror.

A blue Morpho butterfly stretched its wings across her waist, poised for flight.

Some of the scars from Redpine Correctional Facility had faded enough to be removed surgically.

But the deeper ones, though lighter now, still marred her skin.

She traced the lifelike butterfly with careful fingers.

The memory of the needle's sting lingered in that ten-centimeter patch of skin.

"Ethan, if even physical scars can't fully disappear… how do you expect me to forget the past and love you again? It's impossible."