Abandoned for His “Sick Sister,” Reborn After the Crash
Hannah Air · Completed · 3.9k Words
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Introduction
I was once the woman Michael was dead set on marrying, only to be cast aside right after our engagement, all because of Lily, that so-called terminally ill, pitiful little “sister” of his.
With a shattered heart, I boarded the honeymoon flight that was supposed to belong to both of us. But The plane crashed.
I survived, by sheer luck, saved by a stranger named Liam and ended up on a remote island.
One year later, I returned to the public eye as a scriptwriter, telling my own story. At the press conference, I saw Michael again.
Gray streaks threaded through his hair. His eyes brimmed with regret, disbelief, and a desperate kind of joy. He grabbed me, begged for forgiveness, told me Lily’s lies had been exposed, told me he had spent the past year drowning in remorse.
But I only looked at him calmly and said: “Emily have been dead since the plane crashed. What you thought was a wife-chasing crematorium was nothing more than your own one-man show.”
With a shattered heart, I boarded the honeymoon flight that was supposed to belong to both of us. But The plane crashed.
I survived, by sheer luck, saved by a stranger named Liam and ended up on a remote island.
One year later, I returned to the public eye as a scriptwriter, telling my own story. At the press conference, I saw Michael again.
Gray streaks threaded through his hair. His eyes brimmed with regret, disbelief, and a desperate kind of joy. He grabbed me, begged for forgiveness, told me Lily’s lies had been exposed, told me he had spent the past year drowning in remorse.
But I only looked at him calmly and said: “Emily have been dead since the plane crashed. What you thought was a wife-chasing crematorium was nothing more than your own one-man show.”
Chapter 1
The impact tore through my ears.
The sound of the plane breaking apart collided with passengers’ screams, like a symphony of the apocalypse.
The ocean split open beneath us. Wreckage ignited in an instant, flames shooting skyward, turning night into blinding daylight before everything was swallowed by deeper darkness and bone-chilling cold. Life and death crossed paths in a single second.
My consciousness blurred under the pain of shattering bones. The only thing I could still feel was Ryan’s hand, warm, dry, gripping mine tightly.
Even at the very end, he never let go.
Then freezing seawater flooded my lungs. Suffocation and darkness closed in together, dragging me under completely.
…
On the other side, the hospital corridor blazed with a harsh light, and the smell of disinfectant crept into the nostrils, cold and acrid.
Michael burst into the ER holding Lily in his arms, looking like a trapped beast that had lost control.
“Doctor! Hurry! Save her!”
Doctors and nurses rushed in immediately, taking Lily from him and getting her into the emergency room. Tests began one after another, fast and efficient.
Outside the ER, Michael paced back and forth, every step heavy with panic.
James and Ethan stood beside the wall, their faces just as grim.
Time dragged on, second by second, each one stretched unbearably long.
Finally, the ER doors opened.
Lily’s attending physician stepped out, holding a report.
Michael lunged forward. His voice was tight, strained. “Doctor, how is Lily? Her cancer...”
The doctor adjusted his glasses. His expression remained calm, detached. But his words exploded in the silent hallway like a bomb.
“Mr. Michael, Mr. James, Mr. Ethan, Lily shows no signs of cancer.”
The air went solid.
Michael’s face drained of color. He grabbed the doctor’s arm so hard the man’s brow knitted.
“What did you just say? Say it again.” His voice came out raw—half demand, half plea.
“No cancer? That’s impossible. Lily told me herself.”
James and Ethan stepped in too, disbelief flashing across their faces.
The doctor held out the report to them, tone steady and professional. “We ran three rounds of screening, including a PET-CT. The results are very clear. Lily is in excellent health. There are no indications of cancer.”
He paused, then added like he was stating something that had nothing to do with him:
“As for why she would claim she has cancer, that’s beyond medicine. You might want to consult psychiatry.”
With that, he pulled his arm free and walked away, leaving the three of them frozen where they stood.
Michael started shaking so hard it looked like his bones were rattling. If James hadn’t caught him, he would’ve dropped right there.
No cancer?
Then why did Lily lie?
Why lie to everyone?
The thought slammed into Michael like thunder.
And suddenly, the church came rushing back—Lily in a plain, light-colored dress, her face so pale it was almost see-through, standing beneath the cross, her voice trembling and tears falling in perfect, endless streams.
She sobbed about being dumped by her boyfriend. She sobbed about being diagnosed with cancer. She sobbed about not having much time left.
She sounded so real, so helpless, like despair itself had soaked into the air.
And now, looking back, every single scene was nothing but the sharpest, ugliest mockery.
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