“Dad… Dad… Please listen! It’s not what you think. This map is actually—”

“Kayla! Don’t you dare lie to me!” Dexter’s rage was palpable. The map’s unauthorized exchange had upended their lives. The hardships, the humiliation, the ambush—all consequences of that switch. His fingers trembled with fury.

How could his beloved daughter, the one he’d sacrifice everything for, betray him? Had he not uncovered the truth today, she would have continued her charade, watching their family crumble while remaining untouched, uncaring.

“Hand me the map. Now!” he demanded, his voice shaking the room.

“Dad… I can’t. It’s mine!” Kayla felt a pang of guilt, but her resolve held. She even attempted manipulation: “Dad, this map is useless to you. Only I can unlock its potential. That’s why I can’t give it to you!”

Dexter was speechless, consumed by fury. Then, summoning unexpected strength, he ripped the IV line from his arm and lunged at Kayla, desperate to reclaim the map. It couldn't fall into the Fullers' hands; the potential for disaster was unthinkable.

“Dad?” Kayla was stunned. She hadn’t anticipated his violent reaction.

Panic seized her. She grappled with him, the struggle for the map intensifying. Her frustration solidified into cold resolve. Seeing his weakened post-surgery state, she forcefully pushed him back onto the bed. Without hesitation, she grabbed a pillow and blanket, pressing them over his face.

“You forced me into this… You made me do this. Just die already!” she hissed, her eyes blazing.

Dexter thrashed, his desperate resistance weakening until only muffled whimpers escaped him. Then, the turning of a doorknob shattered the silence.

Terror gripped Kayla. Her heart pounded. She frantically tossed aside the pillow and blanket, crying, “Doctor! Doctor, help! My dad… He’s not breathing! Please, someone, help!”

Medical staff flooded the ward. Dexter was rushed to emergency. Tears streaming down her face, Kayla played the distraught daughter perfectly, convincingly claiming Dexter had attempted suicide in despair. Her performance dispelled any suspicion.

Myra arrived to find Dexter already in emergency. She refused to believe the strong man would take his own life; it was absurd, impossible. Kayla’s tearful responses to Myra’s questioning offered no answers, only sobs.

“Mom, I’m…” Kayla’s icy hands and pale face suggested genuine terror.

Myra felt remorse. “This is all my fault. I should never have left you alone. If I had stayed…”

Fortunately, the ordeal was short. An hour later, the doctor emerged. “The patient is stable and out of danger.”

“Thank goodness!” Myra exclaimed, oblivious to the subtle tension in Kayla’s stiff posture and nervous gaze.

It was over. What now?