Part 1The Thousand and First Star Will Never Shine

My husband Jim clung to life in the ICU after a plane crash. I refused to sit by his bedside, and I flatly declined to sign his emergency surgery forms.

"Dad is dying! How can you just sit there eating?!" My ten-year-old daughter Annie slammed her hand down, knocking my rice bowl off the counter.

I only offered a faint smile. "Food is fuel. If I don't eat, how will I have the energy to bury your father?"

Clutching a glass jar of origami stars, her eyes swollen, she screamed, "Shut up! Everyone knows how much Jim loves you!"

Sobbing, she pulled out the stars, reading the tiny notes inside. "Elena rarely smiles, but when she does, it ruins me."

She read over a dozen, but when my face stayed blank, she broke. "Is money all you care about?! If Dad dies, you get the whole company!"

I looked at her, my heart still. "Annie, I've never kept my hair long because it gets in the way of work."

She froze. "What?"

"And I am not the only Elena in his life."

* * *

"Look at my hands, Annie. They are meant for digging dirt, planting vegetables, and feeding livestock. Long hair would only get in my way."

In the mirror, my short hair looked sharp and practical. My skin, weathered from years of working under the sun on a rural farm, was dry and rough.

I reached out and took her small hand, letting her feel the thick, scratchy calluses on my palm.

"As for that glass jar..."

I glanced at the colorful paper stars scattered on the table.

"Those love letters weren't written for me. They were written for Vivian."

Annie yanked her hand back instantly, as if my skin had burned her.

She couldn't comprehend it.

To her, I was Mrs. Gifford, the woman Jim had officially married, and her biological mother.

Vivian was just the beautiful lady in our family photo albums, the one her father always referred to as his sweet little sister.

"Because Vivian’s birth name was also Elena."

"She was the real princess of the family, the one who was supposed to be pampered and loved."

And I, Elena, was nothing more than the abandoned biological daughter, brought back from the countryside to fill the void after the adopted princess left.

I was just a duty, a substitute Jim despised with every fiber of his being.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was the hospital.

"Mrs. Gifford, your husband's condition has taken a turn for the worse. He needs an emergency craniotomy to relieve the pressure on his brain. The risks are incredibly high. We need you here immediately to sign the critical consent forms."

As a prominent figure in the business world, Jim’s accident had drawn massive media attention. Reporters were already swarming the hospital gates.

As his wife, I had to show up. I had to play the part of the devastated, fiercely loyal spouse.

Annie clutched the hem of my shirt, her small face covered in tears.

"Mom, please, we have to go! Dad needs you!"

Her entire world was crumbling, and her eyes were filled with a terrifying vulnerability.

I gently patted her head. "Alright. Let's go."

When we arrived at the hospital, the camera flashes were blinding.

I let my eyes redden on cue, walking with a slight, calculated stumble, leaning heavily on my assistant's arm.

I gave them the perfect performance of a fragile woman on the verge of collapse.

The board members of Gifford Enterprises treated me with immense respect.

"Ma'am, please stay strong. Mr. Gifford is a resilient man. He will pull through this."

I nodded quietly, keeping my head low to hide the absolute lack of emotion in my eyes.

Through the heavy glass of the ICU window, I saw Jim.

He was hooked up to countless machines, his once handsome, arrogant face completely devoid of color.

I should have felt a sense of vindication. I should have hated him.

Yet, looking at his broken body, a strange, suffocating weight settled in my chest.

Ten years.

Marrying him had felt like serving a ten year prison sentence.

I thought my heart had turned to stone a long time ago, but there was still a lingering ache.

Jim’s personal secretary, Mr. Carter, walked over and spoke in a hushed tone.

"Mrs. Gifford, your husband flew out of the country to secure a crucial business partnership. No one could have predicted this tragedy."

My lips curved into a cold, private smile.

A partnership?

I knew exactly why he had boarded that private jet.

It was Vivian’s birthday.

For the past ten years, no matter how busy he was, he always flew across the ocean on this exact day to celebrate with her.

Nothing could ever stop him.

Only this time, the universe decided to intervene.

A nurse rushed out of the operating room, looking panicked.

"The patient's heart rate is dropping rapidly! We must perform the craniotomy immediately to clear the blood clot! We need a family member to sign these papers right now!"

Every eye in the corridor turned to me.

I held a handkerchief to my face, pretending to sob, but I didn't take a single step forward.

Annie grabbed my hand, weeping.

"Mom, please! Save Dad! Just sign the paper!"

I looked at the bold letters on the form, specifically the line that read Authorized Family Signature.

Images of the humilating nights I had endured flashed through my mind.

The times he came home reeking of alcohol, pinning me down while whispering Vivian’s name over and over again.

The way he kept Vivian’s portrait proudly displayed on his desk, while our wedding album was locked away in the darkest corner of his drawer.

The times he threw entire plates of food against the wall because my cooking didn't suit his taste, while he happily spent hours in the kitchen preparing elaborate meals for Vivian.

I slowly raised my head, meeting the desperate, urging gazes of everyone in the room, and quietly shook my head.

"I can't sign this."