Ever since Emerald returned to the country with her leukemia-stricken son, Clinton had barely spent any time with our daughter. Tamara had worked so hard, even taking dance classes, just to impress him. But every time Emerald called to say her son missed him, Clinton would run straight to her side, leaving Tamara behind.
"If you don't like Tamara or me," I said, struggling to get back on my feet, "then divorce me! Go be that kid's father for all I care."
"Enough!" Clinton's voice was filled with rage. Desperate, I bit down hard on his wrist, and he finally let me go, cursing as he tossed his car keys at me.
"Crazy woman! Do you think divorcing me will get you half my assets? The house and savings are already in Emerald's name—you'll get nothing. And don't think you're taking the kid either!"
Ignoring his venomous words, I grabbed the keys and raced to the hospital. I didn't care about the house, the money, or anything else. All I cared about was saving Tamara.
At the hospital, I quickly recalled the events of my past life and found the operating room where Emerald was performing the surgery.
"Matching complete. Donor stem cell collection can proceed," I overheard the nurses saying. Rage surged through me as tears filled my eyes.
Tamara, Mommy is here. Don't worry, I'm going to save you.
I burst into the operating room like a madwoman, startling the nurses.
Emerald stepped out, her face calm. "Oh, it's Celestine. Don't worry, Tamara will be fine—"
Before she could finish, I pulled a half-empty drink from my bag and splashed it right in her face.
"Ah! What are you doing?" Emerald shrieked, her mask of calm slipping.
I stood there, unflinching. "Nothing," I said quietly, "just getting revenge for my daughter."
"Celestine, this is a hospital! What are you going crazy for?" Emerald's voice, usually soft and gentle, now cut through the air, sharp and furious as she stood there soaked in the cola I had thrown at her.
"My daughter is about to undergo surgery and have blood drawn," I replied, my tone calm but firm. "As her mother, shouldn't I be here to sign the paperwork?" I locked eyes with her. "Let me see just how serious her allergy is. If they truly need to draw blood, I can help, too."
I added with a cold smile, "Oh, by the way, you treated my daughter to mooncakes. I don't have much to offer in return, but I brought you some cola. I hope you don't mind."