My sister ran away from her arranged marriage, and I was forced to take her place—marrying the sickly William Johnson.

But once he recovered, the first thing he did was bring my sister, freshly returned from abroad, into our home.

“Emma Davis, Emily said you says you drove her away years ago and drugged me to force this marriage?”

“Answer me! Is it true?”

I stood there frozen. Bound by our agreement, I remained silent.

Until the day my daughter, manipulated by that scheming stepsister, threw sulfuric acid in my face.

My right ear burned off instantly. I begged William to take me to the hospital.

The man just watched coldly, unmoved.

After hospital treatment, I called William’s father with an expressionless face.

"It's time to end our agreement."

......

I lost my right ear, along with the eardrum, and half my hair was burned off.

A week ago, I carefully carried the bowl of soup I'd brewed myself and gently pushed open the master bedroom door.

For eight years, this had been my daily ritual.

Yet the scene before me made my hands tremble uncontrollably.

William, my husband whom I'd cared for eight full years, was locked in a passionate kiss with a woman in a pale pink dress.

It was Emily, my sister who'd been missing for eight years—William's first love.

Crash—

The herbal tonic spilled across the floor, scalding broth splashing onto my hand, instantly reddening and blistering the skin.

The pain made me gasp, but my heart ached more deeply.

Hearing the noise, William turned, his gaze falling upon me.

Emma, you came just in time. Saves me the trouble of looking for you.

He let go of Emily, his voice devoid of guilt, pure ice.

Emily triumphantly linked arms with William, victory shining in her eyes.

"Sis, long time no see." Her sweet smile sent chills down my spine.

William spoke coldly: "Emma, Emily told me everything. How you drugged me eight years ago to force our marriage."

I froze. "What? When did I ever drug you?"

"Stop pretending!" William shoved me away. "I should've known you drove Emily away back then."

I staggered backward, hitting the doorframe.

My mother-in-law rushed over at the commotion. Her eyes lit up when she saw Emily.

"Emily! My dear child, you're finally back!"

She excitedly pulled Emily's hands toward her, completely ignoring my presence.

"Mom, I'm home."

Emily cooed in response before turning to me, "Sister, thank you for taking care of William all these years."

Only then did Mom notice me, her smile vanishing instantly:

"What are you still standing here for? The floor's filthy—clean it up now!"

Bending down to gather the shards, my burned hand touched the porcelain pieces. Pain shot through me as cold sweat broke out.

"Mom, I know everything now," William said coldly. "She schemed against me years ago—drugged me—then seized the chance to marry into the Johnson family."

Mom erupted in fury upon hearing this: "I knew it! I always saw she was no good!"

The entire Johnson family believed that I drugged William and stole Emily's husband, even their six-year-old daughter was no exception.

My scarred hands seemed to mock my naivety and foolishness.

On that rainy night eight years ago, I received a call from Emily. She cried out, urging me to come quickly to the hotel to save someone.

We were half-sisters. Though we weren't very close, we always helped each other in times of trouble.

When I arrived at the hotel, I found William lying in the bathroom, his face as pale as paper, his breathing weak.

Emily was panicked. She said she had invited William to talk about breaking up, but he suddenly fainted.

We took William to the hospital. The doctor diagnosed him with congenital heart disease, and his condition was already quite serious.

"William needs long-term rest and care, ideally with someone by his side day and night." The doctor's words still echo in my mind.

However, while I was contacting the Johnson family, Emily left without a word and disappeared without a trace.

Calls and texts vanished like clay oxen into the sea, with no response ever again.

The next day, Thomas came to find me.

"Emma, I know your mother is critically ill in the hospital and needs a large sum for surgery."

He got straight to the point, offering to cover the expenses in exchange for one condition.

Fresh out of college, I’d faced constant rejection in my job hunt while my mother’s condition worsened daily.

Thomas’s condition was simple: marry William and care for him until he recovered.

I clenched my teeth and agreed, signing that unjust marriage contract, becoming the Johnson family's daughter-in-law in my sister's place.

The ceremony was so minimal it barely existed; the Johnsons refused to waste resources on a "substitute."

On our wedding night, I sat by the sickbed watching William's shallow breaths, my heart tangled in conflicted emotions.

He was strikingly handsome—even ravaged by illness, his sharp features and noble bearing shone through.

I gently held his hand: "William, I'm Emma. Starting today, I'm your wife. I'll take good care of you."

Those were grueling days: daily sponge baths, medicine doses, massages, rehabilitation sessions, and quiet conversations.

Margaret Johnson always treated me with cool indifference. To her, I was just a lowly nurse unworthy of standing in proper society.

As for Thomas, after settling my mother’s enormous medical bills, he flew abroad for business.

In eight years, he returned no more than three times.

Gradually, William’s condition improved. He regained consciousness, began speaking, and started walking again.

My presence puzzled him at first, but over time, he slowly accepted me as his wife.

I never told him about the original arrangement, quietly caring for him and supporting him through each difficult day.

In the third year, an accidental medication miscalculation led to my pregnancy.

Margaret was initially furious, convinced I’d deliberately conceived to manipulate the Johnson family. But surprisingly, William expressed willingness to keep the child.

"It might be nice to have a child, at least the house wouldn't feel so empty." That's what he said back then.

After ten months of pregnancy, I gave birth to a girl. We named her Sophia Miller, wishing her a safe and peaceful life.

She was beautiful, bearing a striking resemblance to William, and inheriting his proud demeanor.

As William's health improved, he began taking over the family business. I became his supportive partner, quietly standing by his side.

I thought we would continue like this forever.

Until Emily's return shattered everything.

Since Emily came back, William has been chilly to me to the extreme.

Tonight, he openly brought Emily to the event, leaving me completely ignored.

"Emma, your outfit looks so tacky. It's completely unfit for an occasion like this."

Emily approached with a wine glass, offering a sweet yet mocking smile.

I smiled politely: "Everyone has their own style."

"Oh dear, sorry!"

She suddenly exclaimed, spilling the red wine on my dress, the crimson liquid instantly soaking the fabric.

The people around snickered, their gazes turning to me with mockery and contempt.

Emily pretended to be flustered: "Sorry, I didn't mean to!"

I knew she did it on purpose, but I just silently took out a tissue and wiped it.

William came over from the crowd, his face gloomy: "What happened?"

"William, I accidentally spilled the wine on Emma," Emily said pitifully, but a gleam of triumph flashed in her eyes.

William glanced at me, no concern in his eyes: "Since your dress is dirty, you should go back first."

He didn't even ask if I needed help, just resented me for possibly tarnishing the Johnson family's image.

I bit my lip, suppressing humiliation, and turned to leave the banquet hall.

Behind me came Emily's sweet laughter and William's whispers, piercing my heart with waves of pain.

Back at the Johnson family, I discovered my card had been suspended, and even opening the door required the help of a servant.

"Madam, Margaret said that starting today, household affairs will be handled by Miss Emily," the butler informed me respectfully but distantly.

In just half a month, my role was completely sidelined, even my right to care for William was stripped away.

The next morning, I habitually got up to prepare William's herbal tonic, only to find someone already in the kitchen.

Emily in home clothes, busy in the kitchen, with Margaret guiding her from the side, the two chatting and laughing like a close mother-in-law and daughter-in-law pair.

"Ah, Sophia, you're up early." Emily pretended to be surprised. "But I've already prepared William's herbal tonic, no need to trouble yourself."

My mother-in-law shot me an icy look. "Just stay out of Emily's way while she cares for William."

I turned away silently and returned to my room.

What hurt most was how quickly Emily had won over Sophia, making my own daughter distant toward me.

"Sophia, how about Mommy takes you to the amusement park today?" I crouched down, asking softly.

Sophia pouted. "I don't want to. Aunt Emily promised to take me to the new movie."

Emily appeared behind Sophia, wearing a smug expression. "Sophia's such a sensible girl."

She bent close to whisper in Sophia's ear. Sophia nodded and ran off.

"Emma, you're no longer the lady of the Johnson family. Sophia doesn't need a mother like you." Emily shed her disguise, revealing her true colors.

That evening, I discovered my treasured photo album torn apart, its pages scattered across the floor.

It held every important moment from my eight years caring for William—my most precious memories.

Sophia stood at the doorway, her gaze conflicted: "Aunt Emily says these photos are fake. That you kept them to trick Dad."

My heart shattered as I tried to explain:

"Sophia, Mom isn't lying. These are real memories we shared."

Just then, William pushed the door open. Seeing the mess of torn photos, his expression darkened instantly.

“What are you doing? Why are you scolding Sophia?” William questioned sharply, completely siding with his daughter.

I was stunned and explained, “I wasn’t scolding her, I just wanted to tell her the truth.”

William sneered, “The truth? What right do you have to talk about the truth? Back then, you used the despicable method of drugging to marry into the Johnson family. Now you want to keep deceiving me and Sophia with these photos?”

His words were like a sharp blade, slicing my heart apart inch by inch.

Emily appeared out of nowhere, pretending to dissuade him, “William, don’t be angry. Emma might have her own difficulties.”

She turned to me, malice flashing in her eyes, “Sister, William has recovered and doesn’t need your care anymore. Why keep clinging on?”

“You...”

I fought back tears, looking at the man I once considered my life, who now treated me as an enemy.

On the weekend, I heard Sophia's excited voice in the living room and curiously peeked out.

Emily was handing her an exquisite gift box:

"This is a limited edition doll Auntie brought from abroad. Only a hundred exist worldwide."

Sophia eagerly unwrapped it and hugged Emily: "Thank you, Mom! I love you the most!"

The word "Mom" stabbed my heart like a knife.

I silently retreated to my room, tears blurring my vision.

The daughter I carried in my womb and raised since infancy now called another woman "Mom."

When the school organized a parent-child sports day, I took special leave to attend. Yet at the entrance, I saw Emily already holding Sophia's hand.

"Mom, let's go. The competition is starting," Sophia nestled affectionately against Emily, completely ignoring me standing nearby.

When the teacher asked about the parent, Sophia pointed at Emily without hesitation: "This is my mom."

I stood nearby, baffled by what ideas Emily had put into Sophia's head.

Emily shot me a triumphant look, then walked into the playground holding Sophia's hand, leaving me alone at the school gate.

I turned and left, refusing to break down in public.

After work, I pushed open my door and froze at the sight.

My room was ransacked—drawers gaping, wardrobe flung open, personal belongings strewn everywhere.

What terrified me most was that all the medical records and health notes on William's condition had vanished.

I rushed to find William, only to hear his icy voice at the study door.

"Emma, get in here."

Pushing open the door, William sat behind his desk, his face dark. My medical records and health notes lay scattered across the surface.

He sneered, slapping a stack of photos against my face. "Is this who you really are? Trying to blackmail me with these?"

I picked up the photos, stunned to find they'd been deliberately doctored.

Images documenting my condition were altered to look like secret snapshots, treatment records twisted into evidence of privacy invasion.

"I didn't do this! Someone tampered with these!" I protested urgently, only to be met with his scoff.

"That's enough!" William slammed his hands on the desk as he stood. "Emily's told me everything! You set me up years ago, and now you're using these photos to keep blackmailing me!"

I couldn't defend myself. My heart turned to ash.

I had become a scheming woman in his eyes—a gold-digging fraud who'd stop at nothing.

When night fell and silence reigned, I lay in bed, tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

Faint footsteps echoed outside my door. Alert, I sat up just as the doorknob began slowly turning.

The door cracked open, revealing Sophia’s small figure holding a glass of water.

"Sophia?" I called softly, a warm feeling rising in my chest, thinking my daughter had finally remembered me.

Startled by my voice, Sophia fumbled the glass, water sloshing over its rim.

"You... why aren’t you asleep?" she stammered, her eyes darting.

I noticed the liquid in her glass looked cloudy—nothing like plain water.

Sophia, what's in your hand? I asked warily.

Sophia stammered, avoiding my eyes: "J-just water..."

Just then, Emily's whisper came from outside: "Sophia, hurry. Do as I taught you."

I gasped in realization, springing from the bed—but too late.

Startled by my sudden movement, Sophia splashed the liquid. Most struck my right cheek and shoulder.

Searing pain shot through me. I screamed in agony, feeling my skin burn.

"Ah!" Clutching my face, I collapsed to the floor, nearly passing out from pain.

Sophia froze in terror. The cup slipped from her hand, clattering against the floor.

"Mom!" she screamed in terror, the first time she'd called me that in years.

Emily rushed in, feigning panic: "Good heavens! What happened?"

I writhed on the floor in agony, feeling my facial skin peeling off inch by inch.

William jolted awake from the screams and burst into the room. His face paled seeing my suffering.

"Call an ambulance!" he barked, then whirled toward Sophia. "What did you do?"

Sophia burst into terrified sobs: "Aunt Emily said... it was special water to make Mom beautiful..."

William's glare shifted to Emily, who instantly adopted an innocent expression: "I only gave her beauty water as a skin tonic! I never expected..."

Too agonized to speak, I felt myself being carried into the ambulance.