The Wrong Woman

"It's risky for the three of us to leave together. We need to find a safer way out of Norvania," Oliver muttered to himself, his voice oddly composed.

"If only I could find someone to help me now, things would be much simpler."

"Kill me," Mila's voice, drained of strength, resonated with sorrow.

Oliver gently countered, "How could I bear to kill you?"

Mila lowered her hand and walked back into the house like a soulless being. "Even if you don't kill me, I'll kill you, any chance, any time."

A faint smile played on Oliver's lips as he asserted confidently, "Your son is still in my hands. If you don't want him dead, you'll listen to me." Mila's complexion turned pallid, her expression worn out. She sat down on the bed, wordlessly lying down and pulling the blanket over herself. Closing her eyes, tears trickled down her cheeks, soaking the pillow beneath her.

She endured. But the pain in her heart grew unbearable and uncontrollable, suffocating her. She pulled the blanket into her mouth, curled up, and sobbed.

Since that day, Mila's body weakened day by day. Though unable to keep anything down, she forced herself to eat after every vomit, pushing herself to recover quickly. She knew strength was needed to resist and to kill Oliver.

Oliver tried to contact for days but found no one who

the kitchen preparing

number was unknown. With caution, Oliver

came the voice from

awaiting what was

to leave Norvania.

of realization, he asked again, "How did you even get my number?" Daniel calmly replied, "I have my ways. I'm helping you, but there's a condition." Oliver was taken aback. He paused and

Oliver hesitated.

the chances of success. But

and asked in return, "Oliver, after all these years as brothers,

only if you're fully committed. I help you regain your sight,

glance around the kitchen, then stepped into the living room to ensure Mila wasn't within earshot. Returning to the kitchen, he lowered his