I found Sarah's hospital room.

Tom was giving her a sponge bath.

Her gown was wide open.

They didn't even care.

I remembered when I had a fever and couldn't get out of bed.

I begged Tom to bring me water.

He watched TV and forgot.

Now he was doing everything for Sarah.

No wonder everyone thought they were perfect together.

Sarah gasped when she saw me.

She frantically pulled up her gown. "Lisa, don't get the wrong idea. I couldn't do it myself, so Tom helped me. We are completely innocent."

I didn't bother replying to her. I stared at Tom.

"Why did you take that money?"

Tom frowned, "Money comes and goes, but a life is priceless, of course saving people is more important."

I was shaking with anger.

Our son had died in a car accident.

We were at our family's house for Christmas.

On January third, Tom suddenly said he had to go back home.

He rushed out the door.

The accident happened instantly.

Our son bravely shielded Tom, saving his dad's life.

I was sick.

I stayed behind and missed the accident.

But I lost my son.

He was sixteen years old.

The other driver was at fault, and we received a settlement.

We hadn't touched the money.

I thought it was a constant reminder of our pain.

Only a year after our son's death, Tom could say that?

My face was pale. I gagged.

I never wanted to see them again!

Before I left, Tom stopped me.

"Lisa, I can help you adopt another child, if you give me three months." He said sanctimoniously, "After Sarah heals, I'll take her on a honeymoon."

"You know, Mike died right after they got married. They never got a honeymoon. I want to take Sarah to the place they planned to go."

After our son's death, I had thought about adopting again, but Tom always refused.

He said, "Nobody can replace our son."

Now he was using this ridiculous excuse?

I was dizzy, my lips trembling. My concussion symptoms were getting worse.

I could barely breathe. I forced out, "Do whatever you want."

Tom nodded, satisfied. "Don't worry. It's just a formality. After three months, I'll come home."

I stormed out.

The next day was our son's memorial day.

I stood at his grave, staring at his picture, and burst into tears.

Then I got a phone call.

"Lisa, it's Mike. Tom's buddy. Remember me?"

I was stunned.

Mike, who had been missing for six months, was alive?