The Day Our Promise Breaks

As soon as she saw Charles, Dahlia immediately brought Sandy's face into the frame, her tears falling uncontrollably as she pleaded into the camera, "Charles, please, I'm begging you save Sandy."

"She's burning up with fever, you know her condition can't take this. If she doesn't get to a hospital soon, things could get much worse."

"Please! For the sake of all the years Sandy called you Dad, I'm begging you- help her."

Dahlia sobbed desperately outside the heavy iron door.

Cradled in her arms, Sandy struggled to open her eyes and looked at Charles through the glass. Her lips trembled as she whispered, "Daddy..."

With effort, she slipped off Dahlia's lap and onto the ground.

Kneeling on the cold porch, she reached out to bang on the iron door, her voice weak and pleading, "Daddy, I feel so awful. Can't you hold me, Daddy... please..."

Sandy's misery was real.

One minute she felt like she was burning alive, the next she was shivering so hard her teeth chattered.

Even bundled up in a thick parka, the cold seeped into her bones.

Her mind was delirious with fever.

But she hadn't forgotten-she needed to win Charles's sympathy.

When Dahlia saw Sandy kneel before the door, she slid from her wheelchair and embraced her daughter, kneeling together in the freezing night. "Charles, blame me for everything, it's my fault I failed to raise Sandy right."

"If you're angry with her, punish her later-just please, save her now."

The winter night air was bone-deep. Kneeling on the icy stone, the chill crept up from their knees.

Sandy shook harder, huddled in Dahlia's arms, shivering uncontrollably.

Inside, Charles stared at the two of them through the glass.

He could see Sandy was genuinely sick-seriously sick.

But if she was that ill, she should be at a hospital, not outside his house.

After receiving Aiden's call and learning that Dahlia and Sandy had visited the prison earlier that day, Charles had left Eve's place and gone straight to the prison himself.

This time, Wesley hadn't allowed Charles to see anything, no matter how he insisted.

Charles knew immediately: Dahlia was using Sandy again, manipulating Wesley to get what she wanted.

Now, as he watched the mother and daughter sobbing and begging outside, Charles saw only a performance.

He knew exactly what they wanted-to prey on any lingering affection he might have for Sandy, to soften his heart.

He scoffed silently, his lips curling in cold amusement.

He didn't even bother to respond.

It wasn't as if he didn't know how sick Sandy was—at this rate, she could very well die.

But what did her life or death matter to him?

They had chosen to gamble with her health.

If Sandy died from this, it would be Dahlia's sin to bear.

Charles turned away, ignoring them completely, and retreated to the living room.

He switched the TV to slideshow mode and watched old photos of Charlie

growing up, shutting out the cries from outside.noveldrama

He spent countless nights like this—alone.

...

Outside, Sandy finally reached her limit.

With pain clouding her vision, she grabbed weakly at Dahlia's

her

sleeve,

gr voice barely audible. "Mom... it

hurts... I want to go to the hospital..."

But Dahlia didn't comfort her.

Instead, she glared down at Sandy, her voice tow and threatening, "Keep begging. If you can't make your father pity you, if you can't get his forgiveness, you might as well be dead!"

Panic was tightening Dahlia's chest.

Sandy had never been this sick before. Usually, even a mild fever was enough to

send Charles into a frenzy.

Now Sandy was barely clinging to life, and Charles remained unmoved. How could Dahlia not panic?

Had her trump card finally lost its power?

No-impossible!

"Charles, Sandy can't take this anymore! Please, Charles, are you really going to let her die?!"

"Charles, you can't be so heartless! Sandy was your little girl-she grew up calling you Dad. She's never had anyone but you. Please, just come out, just look at her, please, O Charles..."

Dahlia's desperate, heart-wrenching cries met only silence.

Sandy's breathing grew fainter in her arms.

The grip on Dahlia's coat loosened until her hand slipped away entirely.

A jolt of terror shot through Dahlia as she stared at Sandy's closed eyes.

"Sandy!" she called out in panic.

No response.

Dahlia's blood ran cold. With shaking hands, she reached under Sandy's nose.

A faint breath-thank God.

Still alive, just barely.

At this point, Dahlia didn't care about putting on a show for Charles anymore. There was only one thought left in her mind: Get Sandy to the hospital. Now. Sandy couldn't die.

If she did, Dahlia would lose her leverage over Wesley-he'd turn over the evidence to Charles without hesitation.

And then she'd be finished.