At the time, Dexter found Kayla's words harmless. Looking back, however, it was clear each word emphasized the chasm between Kayla and Felicia. The greater problem, though, was Dexter himself; he had emboldened Kayla, knowingly ignoring her actions. His bias was extreme, bordering on the absurd.

Now, staring at the returned card, Dexter felt the deservedness of it all. He forced a strained smile and asked, "Sebastian, didn't you speak to Felicia? Ask her to examine Mother, even if we have to offer payment."

The family was destitute, but their house remained as collateral. Sebastian shook his head. "She won't see us. Let's find another solution. Worst-case, we transfer her to another hospital."

"That's... that's all we can do for now," Dexter murmured, picking up his cutlery. "Let's eat."

The food was unappetizing—too greasy or too salty—but neither commented. Silence descended upon the dining table, broken only by the occasional clinking of cutlery.

After dinner, Sebastian cleared the table while Dexter carried a…

"Wake up soon, darling. Look at you, you've lost so much weight. If this continues, I don't know what I'll do," Dexter murmured softly, sighing repeatedly. Focused on turning his wife, he missed her fingers twitching twice before stilling.

It was a long dream, transporting Myra to her past. She saw a woman giving birth, frozen for a long moment before realizing it was herself—twenty years younger. Back then, her eyes were wrinkle-free; Sebastian was in elementary school. She was the pampered daughter of the Walsh family and Dexter's beloved wife.

Childbirth had been the most difficult experience of her life. One week before her due date, Myra had attended a gathering, ignoring the need for rest. As the event concluded, someone bumped her stomach; her water broke, and labor began immediately.

The labor lasted hours. The pain was excruciating, and Myra tugged at Dexter's hair in frustration, declaring it her last child. She never wanted to endure such pain again! Dexter hastily promised her otherwise.

Reliving this scene, Myra laughed. At the time, she'd felt only satisfaction and sweetness. Now, seeing it differently, she felt the same happiness. Hours later, a baby's cry echoed in the room.

On the delivery bed, Myra was exhausted. Drowsiness washed over her as she heard congratulations. "Congratulations, Mrs. Fuller! It's a baby girl! She looks just like you. She'll grow up to be stunning!"

"Of course! My daughter will be the most beautiful!" she thought. Myra smiled, wanting to see her daughter, but exhaustion claimed her.

In her dream, Myra observed as a third party. She leaned closer and saw a delicate baby girl, even as a newborn, extraordinarily beautiful.

"Licia…" Myra's eyes misted. She reached out, but before her hand could touch the baby, a woman in work attire took her away.