Chapter 3

The heart was successfully transplanted. Six hours later, it beat again—this time inside Evelyn Snow's body.

The moment Lucas Ryan stepped out of the operating room, he went straight to Evelyn's recovery ward.

He stood by her bedside, watching her sleep peacefully. Only then did he let out a long sigh of relief.

Once he was sure Evelyn was stable, Lucas returned to his office. He sank into his chair and pulled out his phone, only to find the screen blank—no messages, no missed calls.

It was strange. I used to text him endlessly every single day, sharing every mundane detail of my life—what I ate, what I was working on, how my day went.

But Lucas never responded. Not once.

He stared at his phone for a few moments, then opened his contacts. His thumb hovered over my name before he hesitated, but eventually, he made the call.

The line rang and rang, the mechanical tone echoing in the silence, until it automatically disconnected. On the other end, there was no one to pick up.

Frustrated, Lucas put the phone down, opened our old chat thread, and recorded two voice messages, his irritation unmistakable: "Claire, you already agreed to the divorce. Whether you answer your phone or not won't change my decision."

"And don't think playing hard to get will make me reconsider."

I watched him angrily send the messages, a faint smile tugging at my lips. It was bitter and hollow.

"Lucas Ryan," I murmured softly, "if you hated me this much, why did you marry me in the first place?"

But it didn't matter anymore. The wife he despised had died in today's storm.

He wouldn't have to deal with me ever again.

For the first time, Lucas's messages disappeared into the void, unanswered. I faded from his world, quietly and without a trace.

And yet, he didn't look for me. He assumed I was being difficult, hiding away because I didn't want the divorce. He was so certain of it that he didn't bother to question my absence.

Meanwhile, my body lay unclaimed in the hospital morgue.

It wasn't surprising. After all, I was an orphan.

Growing up in a group home, I had no family to call my own. My only real accomplishment in life was earning a spot at one of the country's top design schools.

And, of course, marrying Lucas Ryan.

Back in college, Lucas wasn't just the star of the medical school—he was the star. Top of his class, impossibly handsome, and untouchable, he was the dream of every girl on campus.

Even at my school across town, everyone had heard about the perfect love story between Lucas Ryan and Evelyn Snow.

The first time I saw him was at a joint event between our universities.

He stood tall in the crowd, dressed in a custom-tailored suit that screamed wealth and elegance. He spoke with effortless charm, surrounded by people who seemed magnetically drawn to him. His presence was so dazzling, it was almost blinding.