Chapter 3
A sharp pain suddenly pierced through my heart.
Even Lily had recognized that man as Zane, yet he still refused to admit it, showing such heartless indifference even to his own daughter.
I held Lily tightly, struggling to hold back the tears in my eyes.
I whispered to comfort her: “Lily, he’s not your daddy. Your daddy has passed away.”
That same day, I went to the military base to find Nathan, bringing the death certificate to report the death and requesting to cancel Zane’s military registration.
Nathan said: “I just learned about Zane’s sacrifice, and I’m deeply sorry for your loss. As family members, the organization will do its best to meet your needs.”
Without hesitation, I voiced the thought I’d been considering for long time: “Colonel Welch, I’d like to find a job at the military base, as long as it can support Lily and me.”
Nathan seemed somewhat surprised: “Work at the military
base can be quite demanding. Are you sure you’ve thought this through?”
This was exactly what I wanted. I nodded firmly.
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Soon, the paperwork was completed. Not only did I successfully cancel Zane’s military registration, but I also received a pension and funeral expenses.
When I returned home, Mary was sitting in the yard.
Seeing me come in, she sneered sarcastically: “Oh, the jinx is back? Your man is dead, and you’re still running around everywhere. My son was really unlucky to marry someone like you.”
Lily sat on the ground shucking corn, crying softly.
Her hands were covered with blisters, some already burst, with
wounds red and inflamed.
I was instantly furious and immediately picked up Lily.
“Lily is only five years old! Her hands are torn up like this, can’t you see?”
Mary put her hands on her hips and said viciously: “You bitch, you didn’t give our family a son, and you still dare to talk back? Don’t you want to work?”
I laughed coldly: “Since my husband is dead anyway, I’ll just leave. I won’t take advantage of you.”
With that, I turned to leave.
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Mary became unhappy again and rushed over to block me: “If you leave, who’s going to take care of Arya? You’ve been freeloading in our house for so many years, don’t think you can leave easily!”
Arya stood under the window, rubbing her belly and looking at me smugly: “Claire, it’s all because you didn’t have a son. The one in my belly is a boy, so you need to take good care of me.”
Zane stood beside her supporting her, saying to me: “Mom is getting old, and Arya needs the most care right now. Claire, stop being stubborn.”
I couldn’t help but laugh coldly. When I gave birth to Lily, he never said anything about taking care of me.
On the day I went into labor, I went to the hospital alone, and not a single person at home cared.
Mary despised me for not having a son and was completely indifferent to me.
And Zane never even showed his face, not even offering a word
of concern.
I had no need to serve them like a slave!
I gritted my teeth, carried Lily back to the room, and carefully applied ointment to her wounds.
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As I was leaving, I happened to hear Arya say to Zane: “Zane, if you hadn’t taken Aiden’s place to stay with me, I would have been killed by Claire.”
Zane’s voice was incredibly gentle: “Don’t worry, Arya. For you and our child, I will protect you for the rest of my life. Mom is on your side too, otherwise how could she agree to let me assume Aiden’s identity?”
I clenched my fists, my nails digging deep into my palms, my lips nearly bleeding from biting them.
So, the child Arya was carrying was Zane’s, and she and Mary had known about Zane’s identity deception all along.
Their relationship had started much earlier than I had imagined, and I had been deceived by him all this time.
Looking at Lily sleeping peacefully, I quietly comforted myself: “I need to think about Lily. We’ll be able to leave here soon.”
Sure enough, two days later I received word from Nathan that he had arranged a job for me and I could start anytime.
I immediately packed my things and prepared to leave.
However, as soon as I stepped outside, I saw Zane’s livid face.
His gaze fell on the train ticket in my hand, his tone ice–cold: “Claire, where are you going?”
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My husband posed as my dead brother-…
