Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption by Lilyheart

Chapter 137: When the truth comes out...

After ensuring Lady Matilda was settled and comfortably attended to, Jessica let out a quiet breath, gently pulling the door shut behind her.

The hospital hallway felt unusually long, the fluorescent lights above casting a pale sheen over her weary frame. Her steps were soft, as she walked with a lingering heaviness. Today had been one hell of a day.

She glanced down at her arm, a dull throb radiating from the bruise that had begun to bloom beneath her skin. The impact from cushioning the old woman was catching up with her. She rolled her shoulder and winced slightly. I need to treat this, she told herself. If Davis sees it... he might lose it.

She could already picture his intense eyes narrowing in worry—or worse, frustration. He was observant. Hiding anything from him was nearly impossible.

Still, she didn’t regret a thing. She’d acted on instinct, and she’d do it again.

Returning to her office, she tossed her backpack onto the chair and pulled on her pristine white coat. The transition from emotional turmoil to professional composure was almost seamless and then she strode out of her office.

Jessica walked through the corridors with her usual grace, doctors and nurses greeting her with nods and hushed admiration. She changed into her surgical scrubs, scrubbed in, and prepped alongside her team.

"Dr. Sica," one of her assistants said, handing her a report, "The patient is stable. Anesthesia is ready. The team is standing by."

"Good," she replied. Her voice held no hesitation. "Let’s begin."She said.

The doors to the theatre slid shut with a quiet click and at the same time the light came on.

As the surgery began, her hands moved with precise, graceful ease—her mind focused, her heart steady. But the staff working with her felt something different about her but none could place their finger on.

~Hospital ward~

a phone against her ear. Her eyes were fixed on the loose strand of hair she had delicately placed on a tissue beside her—evidence. Her voice

she whispered fiercely. "The resemblance is uncanny. She’s a mirror—her eyes, her voice... and she’s a

with hesitation. "Mom, aren’t you overthinking this? You know replicates aren’t a valid way

necklace," Matilda interrupted, her voice firm, carrying

was silence—long and thick. Then came a sharper intake of breath. "The necklace?" the man asked,

The exact necklace meant for the Santiagos’. " She said her tone laced with

passionate claim. "You can’t just jump to conclusions. It might be

to Nora. I know it. And I will get to the

her eyes gleaming

you won’t tell anyone in the family yet," she said, her tone suddenly hushed but

daughter but couldn’t. Some at times they will stumble upon a clue but it

young

need the truth."Lady Matilda’s

receiver. He knew better than to challenge her when she was this resolute. "Fine," he murmured.

sharply. Then, softening, "Trust me, son. She is the one

fingers trembling as she reached once more for the

~Back in the theatre~

wheeled away to recovery, and Jessica stood beside the sink, peeling off her gloves, her shoulders finally dropping in relief—She had done

steps deliberate, her breath measured. She retrieved the box she had meticulously prepared the night before—the one samples that made her feeling the dread of its outcome .