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Chapter 7

I hadn't fully recovered yet, and now I was hit by this sudden news, leaving me momentarily stunned.

"You slut, shameless whore, daring to mess around with other men. It's a good thing your parents died early, or they would have been infuriated to death by you."

Missy cursed while continuing to hit me, pinching the flesh on my body.

She even deliberately aimed at my wound, and I could faintly taste the blood.

The people around probably couldn't stand it anymore.

They couldn't help but advise, "Stop hitting her, you might really cause an accident."

Lawrence, standing nearby, heard someone advising and then symbolically pulled Missy, "Mom, stop hitting her!"

The ridiculous thing was, he, a man, couldn't even pull Missy away.

"What's all this commotion? This is a hospital, no noise allowed in the hospital, understand?"

Finally, the doctors and nurses arrived in time to stop Missy.

Missy was someone who only bullied her own people, and because Lawrence had always indulged her, she only dared to be so presumptuous in front of me.

Now, being scolded by the nurses and doctors, she didn't dare to say a word and shut up.

But I had already snapped out of the shock from the news, and gaining my freedom, I ignored the excruciating pain in my body and rushed to Lawrence, grabbing his arm and urgently questioning, "What does Mom mean? What does she mean by saying my child is a monster? This isn't true, right? Tell me, explain it to me!"

I glared at him with hatred, my nails digging into his arm, shaking him forcefully.

Lawrence looked at me with a pained expression, "Melinda, calm down. The child was indeed born deformed."

"No, I don't believe it. You're lying to me, right? Mom hates me and said this on purpose to provoke me, right?" I shook my head, but tears kept streaming down.

No!

How could it be!

Since I got pregnant, I had monthly check-ups and follow-up screenings. The doctors never mentioned any possibility of defects in the child. How could it be deformed?

"Spit! Nonsense, you gave birth to a useless child and still dare to slander me. It's a good thing the child died, or Lawrence would have had to raise that deformed child for you."

Missy, hearing my words, spat in excitement and tried to hit me again.

In my mind, there was only that sentence: the child died.

"Ah!"

I screamed, grabbing Missy's swinging hand and slapping her back, cursing angrily, "You killed my child, you owe my child a life."

I even couldn't help but choke her neck.

At that moment, a murderous intent surged in my heart.

Kill her, avenge my child.

My child!

Just not long ago, she had responded to me with her little fists?

Originally, when I was being beaten, Lawrence would only verbally advise. But now, seeing Missy being hit by me, he immediately came forward, pinching my wrist, and when I painfully let go of Missy.

He forcefully pulled me and threw me aside.

If someone hadn't caught me, I would have fallen heavily to the floor.

"Melinda, stop it. The dead can't come back to life. We're all very sad about the child's death." Lawrence still thought he was sincerely advising me.

But I couldn't feel any pain from him.

With bloodshot eyes, I raised my hand and slapped him.

I slapped Lawrence into a daze, a hint of coldness flashing in his eyes.

"Slut, how dare you hit Lawrence!" Missy, seeing Lawrence being hit, cursed viciously again and tried to hit me.

My murderous gaze swept over.

Missy was temporarily intimidated by my gaze.

I turned my head and looked coldly at Lawrence, "I want to see the child, one last time!"

Lawrence met my focused and indifferent gaze and finally agreed, "Okay."

I got my wish and saw the child.

The child was kept in the hospital, not yet cremated.

I even thought, if I hadn't insisted on seeing the child.

Maybe by the time I knew about the child's death, she would have already turned into a box of ashes.

Now she was so small, about the size of a kitten, wrapped in a white cloth and placed on the bed.

It was a girl!

No wonder Missy kept calling her a useless child. I had only recently found out that she preferred boys over girls.

The child had deformed limbs.

And her face was blue and purple, as if she had been suffocated in my womb for too long.

Later, I didn't even know how I got back to the ward, dazed, with a heart-wrenching pain.

Every night, I had nightmares, trapped in a dark place, hearing the child's tender voice calling me mom, but I couldn't find her.

Every time, I woke up crying.

This repeated over and over, and I became so thin that I almost didn't look like a person.

Originally, I could have been discharged the next day, but because of this situation, I stayed in the hospital for a few more days.

Those nurses who had shown me sympathy also comforted me.

Slowly, I calmed down.

On the day of discharge, Missy naturally wouldn't come to the hospital to pick me up.

But Lawrence, who promised to pick me up, was late, still reeking of that disgusting "perfume" smell. I knew he had just come from his mistress.

Couldn't he even hold back for such a short time?

Lawrence, a man who thought with his lower body, how desperate he must be!

Although all the medical bills were settled, I didn't immediately leave the ward with him to go home.

Instead, I asked him to give me all the bills for the child's check-ups.

Lawrence frowned, clearly impatient, "What do you need those bills for?"

"Lawrence, you and I have annual check-ups, and we're both healthy. We don't have any family history of genetic disorders, so why was the child deformed? Don't you find it strange?"

"What's so strange about it? It's just a matter of probability!" Lawrence's eyes flickered, and he replied perfunctorily.

My heart sank inexplicably, and I couldn't help but retort, "Yes, if we hadn't done any check-ups after getting pregnant, it could be a matter of probability. But since I got pregnant, we didn't miss any check-ups, spending tens of thousands of dollars on them. Shouldn't I ask the hospital for an explanation?"

Lawrence's face turned cold, and his voice became unusually severe, "Melinda, how long are you going to keep this up? I'm already exhausted from work!"

But I couldn't help but feel a bitter, sad smile.

His so-called exhaustion was from accompanying his mistress?

Just as I was about to speak, Lawrence's phone rang. It was Missy calling, asking why we hadn't returned home yet.

Lawrence hung up the phone and said indifferently, "Mom is still waiting, let's go home first."

Then, without waiting for me to speak, he started walking downstairs.

I was just testing him, but I knew that without evidence, just these check-up bills wouldn't get me the answers I wanted from the hospital.

I followed him, looking at his back, my eyes deep. He still stood tall as usual, but I felt he was exceptionally unfamiliar.

It was as if he had become a different person.

The more Lawrence didn't want me to investigate the cause of the child's deformity, the more I felt there was something wrong.

Half an hour later, we arrived home.

Missy, seeing me, looked at me as if I were an enemy, her face cold, "You just got discharged, why did it take so long? Don't you care about Lawrence?"

They really were a family, birds of a feather.

I hadn't even opened my mouth to retort when Lawrence, who had already reached the bedroom door, paused and helplessly replied to Missy, "The child had an accident, and she insisted on asking the hospital for an explanation."

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