I stayed by my mother's bedside the entire night.
The beeping of the monitors kept me company, the IV drip falling drop by drop. I held my mother's hand—so thin, knobby knuckles, her skin covered in needle marks.
Lu Yan didn't come.
I told myself he would. He'd said he would come in person. He could at least show up—even if just to go through the motions.
Dawn broke. The sound of nurses wheeling carts echoed in the hallway.
I went downstairs to buy coffee. A long line snaked in front of the coffee machine in the hospital lobby. As I waited, I heard two nurses chatting behind me.
"A big shot came to the medical center—someone from Lu Corporation. They booked the whole floor."
"I heard he came with his girlfriend. Young, rich, handsome."
The coin in my hand dropped, rolling far away.
Lin Weiyue. He'd come to the hospital, but not to see my mother—he was here for Lin Weiyue's checkup.
I bent to pick up the coin. My hands were shaking.
Then I went to the parking garage.
The black Maybach was parked in the VIP spot. Lu Yan leaned against the car door, smoking. He wore a dark gray coat, his hair perfectly styled—utterly out of place in this hospital.
When he saw me, he frowned.
"Song Qingci, what are you doing here?"
I walked up to him, looking him in the eye for the first time.
"Lu Yan, the contract is clear: three years of marriage in exchange for my mother's medical expenses. You're breaking your word."
He stubbed out his cigarette, looking at me like I was a nuisance.
"Song Qingci, know your place. You were just a stand-in for Weiyue. Now that she's back, you should disappear. If you want more money, just say so. Don't stoop to this."
He pulled a card from his pocket and held it out to me.
"A supplementary card. Fifty-thousand limit. Sign the divorce papers, and you can keep it."
I took the card.
He turned to get into the car.
"Lu Yan." I stopped him.
I pulled the wedding ring from my pocket—the three-carat diamond he'd tossed at me three years ago. It had always sat in my bedside drawer, because I could never wear it. Half a size too big. It would slip off.
I walked up to him and placed the ring gently on his hood.
A soft click as metal touched paint.
"I never wore this ring," I said. "Because you know my hands are half a size smaller than Lin Weiyue's. It would slip off, so I wound red thread around it. You married a stand-in without even knowing her size."
Lu Yan looked down at the ring.
For the first time, he really looked at my hands—slender, with defined knuckles, nails clipped short. Nothing like the polished, red-tipped fingers he remembered on Lin Weiyue.
A flicker in his eyes, just for a moment.
Then the coldness returned.
"Are you done?"
"I'm done." I turned and walked away.
Behind me, a car door slammed, an engine started. Not once had he asked about my mother.
I stepped out of the parking garage. The wind was strong, stinging my eyes.
A piece of paper blew against my feet.
I bent to pick it up—an NYU evening school brochure, Master's in Finance program.
The application deadline was circled in red: three months from now.
Three months.
I clenched the paper, its edge cutting into my palm, a small sting.
Lu Yan's car drove past, exhaust clouding white around me, blurring my face.
I stood in the mist, looking down at the brochure.
"I'm not a stand-in," I told myself. "I'm someone whose face was borrowed for three years."
The wind died.
I folded the brochure and put it in my hoodie pocket.
My pocket held forty-seven dollars, three coins.
And a ticket to a date three months away.