The faces of my husband, Deng Jiazhe, and Zhen Jie flashed before my eyes, one after the other. I needed to confirm my suspicions, yet a part of me fought desperately to deny them. I couldn't accept it. It was impossible. Deng Jiazhe loved me. From the day we met to the moment we fell in love, built this home, and raised our three beautiful children, he had cherished me, given me his all. In ten years, we'd never once raised our voices to each other. The tender way he held me left no room for doubt. How could he do something like this to me? Impossible. Absolutely impossible! But if it was Zhen Jie, that didn't make sense either. We were strangers before she came to work for us; we had no history, no reason to be enemies. Her salary was at the top of the scale for her profession. I’d picked her myself when she came to the house. She was two years older than me, with a crisp, capable air about her. A high school graduate, she had gone straight into domestic work and become a top-rated housekeeper. I remembered my husband seeming less than pleased when I first hired her. He had even pulled me aside and whispered, “Isn’t she a bit young? Is she reliable?” “Young means unreliable?” I’d teased him with a knowing look. “She’s easy on the eyes, and she’ll be quick on her feet! Besides, she’s one of the best in the business. You're being too picky!” I added, “If anyone should be worried, it’s me!” He gently pinched my cheek. “What are you thinking? Don’t be ridiculous.” Then he pulled me into his arms, nibbling on my earlobe as he relented. “Alright, as long as you’re happy with her. She’s here for you, after all. She’ll be the one with you all day. I’m just worried someone so young won’t stick around, and we’ll have to go through the hassle of hiring again. That’s always a headache.” But Zhen Jie had certainly stuck around, for nearly eight years now. And I could say with confidence that we'd gotten along wonderfully. I treated her like a sister. Why would she drug me? Besides, if it were her, wouldn't Deng Jiazhe have noticed something was wrong with my condition after I took the medicine? Wouldn't he have asked about its effects? Wouldn't he... My mind recoiled from the thoughts that followed. I couldn't bear to think any further. I don't know if it was because I hadn't drunk that bowl of medicine, or if the cat's state had shocked me so badly, but my usual drowsiness was gone. It was as if I were a spirit jolted awake from a stupor, my consciousness unnaturally sharp. Every cell in my body felt like it was exploding; I was in a state of extreme, frantic energy. Fear kept my eyes wide open. It was a long, long night. But what chilled me to the bone was that not a single person came to check on me. No one asked if I had eaten. A cold realization dawned: all this time, I had been sleeping in solitude, occupying a separate space, completely unattended. It seemed Deng Jiazhe wasn't as caring as he appeared on the surface. Just like tonight—the concern I had expected from my husband never came. Had he simply grown accustomed to my comatose state? As dawn slowly broke, Rewa, who had been unconscious under the covers, began to stir. At first, her gaze was unfocused as she let out two weak meows. A little while later, her limbs twitched. Then, with a great stretch, she rolled over, curled her paws beneath her, and settled back into her usual sleeping position beside me. But she was still sluggish, listless—not fully awake yet. Her condition was terrifyingly similar to how I felt every time I woke up. The parallel solidified my deepest fears. Helplessly, I pulled the cat into my arms, burying my face in her soft fur and crying without a sound. Why was this happening? Who was doing this to me? After a long while, I lifted my head and clenched my jaw. I couldn't just lie here and wait for the worst. I had to find the truth. My mind was made up. But I knew I couldn't afford to alert them. I had to keep "sleeping." First, I had to figure out who was giving me the drug. And why? A sliver of hope remained. I wanted to believe it was Zhen Jie. That, somehow, would be easier to accept. But reality came crashing down on me, swift and brutal, a slap in the face so hard it echoed in my bones. And it was far more cruel than I could have ever imagined.