Chapter 1

My name is Mark Peterson. I used to be a surgeon, one of the best. My hands were steady, my mind sharp. I saved lives. My career was everything, but my family was more. My wife, Sarah, and my daughter, Lily, were the center of my world.

Then, a routine medical procedure went wrong. It wasn't my fault, but the malpractice suit didn't care about the truth. They framed me. My medical license was suspended. My career, my reputation, my life as I knew it, all gone.

Just when I thought things couldn't get worse, they did. A day at the amusement park, a day meant to be for smiles and laughter, turned into a nightmare. A group of drunk thugs started trouble. I stood up to them to protect my family. For my trouble, I got three broken ribs.

But Sarah... Sarah was pushed down trying to shield Lily. Her head hit the pavement, hard. She fell into a coma. Little Lily, witnessing it all, was traumatized. The bright, chatty girl I knew disappeared, replaced by a silent child diagnosed with severe autism.

The police caught the thugs, but justice was a joke. A fifty-thousand-dollar fine. That was the price they paid for destroying my family.

I poured every last cent of my savings into Sarah' s medical care and Lily' s therapy. With my license gone, I couldn't practice medicine. I took whatever jobs I could find, washing dishes, cleaning floors, anything to keep us afloat.

Which is how I found myself here, at this international medical summit, working as a temporary server. I was balancing a tray of champagne glasses, my back aching, my spirit crushed.

Then, the host' s voice cut through the low hum of the crowd.

"Please welcome Dr. Sarah Miller, a distinguished guest from the New York Medical College, who will present 'New Advances in Brainstem Injury Repair'..."

The name, the topic, it was all too much. My hands trembled. The tray tilted.

Crash.

The sound of shattering glass echoed through the silent hall. It was loud enough to wake the dead. It was loud enough to wake me from my nightmare.

I looked up at the stage. There was a woman standing at the podium, bathed in the spotlight. She was confident, poised, brilliant. She looked exactly like my comatose wife.

Is that... Sarah?

She was speaking, her voice clear and strong. She talked about the latest treatments for brainstem injuries, using complex medical terms with an ease that captivated the audience of experts. They were all nodding, impressed.

"What are you staring at?!" the event manager hissed in my ear. He grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into my worn-out jacket.

"Get this cleaned up! Dr. Miller's speech is crucial, don't you dare cause any more trouble!"

I stumbled to my knees, my hands shaking as I frantically tried to pick up the shards of glass. Each piece felt like a remnant of my shattered life.

"Should've known better than to hire temporary staff," the manager muttered to himself as he turned away. "They can't even serve an expert like Dr. Miller properly."

Dr. Miller. That title. It hurt. It felt wrong.

"What did you say?" I asked, my voice hoarse. I got to my feet and grabbed the manager's collar, my desperation overriding everything else. "Who is she? Who is that Dr. Miller?!"

The room erupted. People gasped. The quiet murmur turned into a roar of confusion.

"Security! Get this lunatic out of here!" the manager yelled, his face red with fury.

Two huge security guards grabbed my arms, their grips like iron. But I didn't care. I kept yelling, my eyes fixed on the woman on the stage.

"She's my wife! Sarah! She should be in the ICU right now! She's in a coma!"

The speech on stage stopped.

Finally, Sarah Miller looked at me. For a split second, I saw it. A flicker of panic in her eyes. Then it was gone, replaced by a mask of cold composure. She whispered something to a man standing beside her.

The man, dressed in an expensive, tailored suit, walked towards me. He had an air of power and arrogance. He stopped in front of me and handed me a business card. It read: "Andrew Sterling, CEO, Sterling Medical Group."

He looked down at me, his expression full of contempt.

"Dr. Miller said this is an international summit with experts from various countries. Please don't disrupt the conference."

The security guards started dragging me away. As they pulled me toward the exit, I heard the whispers ripple through the venue.

"I heard Dr. Miller is Sterling Medical's chief expert."

"Indeed. She and Mr. Sterling were classmates at New York Medical College. They were reportedly together back then."

"No wonder she became a visiting professor at New York Medical College at such a young age..."

My heart sank. My stomach turned. I didn't just know nothing about Sarah Miller's past, I now knew she was a top neurosurgeon.

Was our entire nine-year marriage a lie?

The applause on stage started again, a thunderous roar for the brilliant Dr. Miller.

I stood in the dark corner by the exit, a broken man in a server's uniform, looking at the familiar yet strange woman on the stage. She was radiant, successful, admired.

The woman who vowed to grow old with me. The woman who promised to share our hardships when I lost everything.

And me? I didn't even have the right to get close to her.