The Unbroken Will

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When the phone screen lit up, I was crouched in the flower shop's back alley trimming the withered Chinese roses.

It was an outrageously expensive order marked urgent, to deliver 9,999 red roses to Cloud Manor.

The rickety tricycle I rented creaked on the asphalt road, standing out sharply against the neatly lined villas around.

The security guard looked at me with disdain, not even touching my ID card when registering.

The moment I pushed open the carved iron gate, I ran into the two people I least wanted to see in this life.

The woman wore an off-white dress, the pearls on the hem gently swaying with her movementsit was Vivian Lincoln.

"Sister? Is it really you?" She hurried over, her tone so warm it was as if we had never been apart.

My fingers gripping the handlebar turned white, my throat tightened, and I couldn't say a single word.

The man beside her turned around, sharply dressed in a suit, the familiar coldness in his eyesBen Jones.

"Is Cloud Manor a place anyone can just walk into?" His voice was like ice, piercing my eardrums with pain.

Vivian Lincoln feigned tugging at Ben's arm: "Ben, she's just doing her workdon't speak like that."

Ben Jones shrugged off her hand, his gaze sweeping over my tricycle, a mocking smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Delivering flowers? How successful! "

I lowered my head to avoid his eyes, but Vivian suddenly reached out to pull off my hat. "Sister, wearing a hat in this heatdoesn't it feel suffocating?"

As she tugged, the hat fell to the ground with a soft thud; the black fabric rolled to Ben's feet.

My scalp was exposed under the sun; the bald spot left by chemotherapy showed a faint bluish hue.

A few suppressed gasps came from nearby; Vivian's smile froze on her face.

Ben's expression shifted from surprise to disgust, as if he had seen something dirty.

I hurriedly bent down to pick up the hat, but Ben stepped on my fingers.

"Wendy," he looked down at me from above, "when you left me back then, did you ever imagine this day would come?"

The pain spread from my fingertips to my heart. I bit my lip, fighting back tears.

Vivian feigned concern as she pulled Ben aside.

"Ben, don't be like this. Maybe she's not feeling well."

"Not feeling well?" Ben Jones sneered, "I think she deserves it."

I finally picked up my hat and put it back on, covering the barren patch that made me feel so self-conscious.

As I pushed the tricycle away, I heard Vivian Lincoln say behind me, "Ben, weren't you a bit too harsh just now?"

Ben's voice faded into the distance: "There's no need to show her any mercy."

The tricycle's wheels rattled over the gravel road, making a harsh noise, like my heart breaking in that moment.

After leaving Cloud Manor, I didn't head straight back to the flower shop but instead turned toward the old villa in the suburbs.

Mother's keepsake is still there; I promised her I would personally retrieve it.

The sycamore leaves on the road were blown by the wind, drifting onto my collar, carrying the chill of autumn.

Memories suddenly surged uncontrollably, taking me back to that summer ten years ago.

Back then, I was still the youngest department manager at the Lincoln Group.

Father, James Lincoln, would tell everyone, My daughter Wendy Lincoln is the pride of the Lincoln family.

I wore tailored professional clothes, came and went from upscale office buildings, surrounded by flattering colleagues.

Ben Jones was still my boyfriend then. When I worked late into the night, he would wait for me downstairs with hot coffee.

"Wendy," he held my hand gently, his eyes soft, "Once I become successful, we'll get married."

I once thought this kind of happiness would last forever.

Until that sudden scandal.

The company's core project data was leaked, and all the evidence pointed to me.

I was taken to the interrogation room, facing cold bright lights and sharp questions, unable to defend myself.

My father stormed into my apartment, slamming a stack of newspapers in my face: "Wendy Lincoln! You truly disappoint me!"

The headline in the newspaper was glaring"Lincoln Group Heiress Caught Embezzling."

I tried to explain, but no one was willing to believe me.

Ben Jones stood in front of me, his eyes cold, just like earlier today at Cloud Manor: "Wendy, I never expected you to be so shameless."

His turning back as he walked away became the last straw that broke me.

Not long after, I had a persistent low fever that wouldn't go away. I went to the hospital for tests and was diagnosed with late-stage stomach cancer.

The side effects of chemotherapy made me vomit uncontrollably, and clumps of my hair kept falling out.

I hid in the rental room, afraid to face anyone, like a wounded beast trapped in a cage.

Mother couldn't bear to worry about me and came to see me in the rain.

She grabbed my hand, crying, and said, "Wendy, no matter what happens, I believe in you. Will you come home with me?"

I shook my head, choking back tears: "Mom, I can't go back. I would only bring shame to the Lincoln family."

During our argument, Mother slipped as she stepped back and tumbled down the stairs.

"Mom!" I screamed, rushing over, but only felt her cold hand.

The doctor said mother had a cerebral hemorrhage, and the rescue was unsuccessful.

I held my mother's body, crying uncontrollably, my consciousness fading.

That was when I realized Vivian Lincoln wasn't some distant relative's daughter, but my father's illegitimate child.

She and her mother had engineered that scandal, taking everything from me and causing my mother's death.

The tricycle stopped at the gate of the old villa; the rusted iron gate was tightly shut.

I wiped the tears from my eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open to go inside.

After collecting my mother's belongings, I got a new order from the flower shopto deliver a money tree to the Clubhouse.

The Clubhouse was luxuriously decorated, crystal chandeliers casting dazzling light that sharply contrasted with my clothes, faded from too many washes.

I carefully pushed the money tree across the polished marble floor.

Turning the corner, I saw James Lincoln.

He sat at a card table, surrounded by a few well-dressed older men, holding chips and laughing heartily.

My steps froze, and my heart clenched tightly.

James Lincoln also saw me, and the smile on his face instantly disappeared, replaced by a deep look of disgust.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was low but loud enough to draw everyone's attention.

I lowered my head and said softly, "I'm here to deliver flowers."

"Deliver flowers?" He sneered, deliberately raising his voice, "The daughter of the Lincoln family has actually stooped to delivering flowers?"

The old men nearby whispered among themselves, their eyes full of curiosity and mockery.

"Mr. Lincoln, is this your daughter?" Someone asked with a laugh.

James Lincoln waved his hand, as if dismissing something filthy: "Don't talk nonsense. I don't have a daughter like that."

He looked at me coldly: "Wendy, you've long ceased to be a part of the Lincoln family. You're a waste. Don't embarrass me here."

Those words cut into my heart like a sharp blade.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging painfully into my palms; the pain kept me grounded.

I said nothing and shed no tears, silently pushing the money tree as I turned away.

Stepping out of the Clubhouse, the cold wind hit me, and tears finally slipped down my face.

My phone suddenly rang, displaying an unknown number. I hesitated for a moment, then answered.

"Sister," Vivian Lincoln's voice came through the phone, tinged with false concern, "Dad had a stroke and is in the hospital. Can you come see him?"

I sneered, tears streaming down my cheeks, "When he kicked me out of the house back then, did he ever think he'd end up like this?"

"Sister, no matter what, he is still our father." Vivian's voice was choked with tears, "I'm pregnant now, I can't get upset. If you don't come, what if I lose the baby because of the stress?"

Just as I was about to hang up, Ben Jones's voice suddenly rang out: "Wendy, you'd better be sensible and come visit right away."

"What if I don't go?" I asked coldly.

"If you dare cause Vivian to lose the baby," Ben Jones's voice was full of threat, "I will never let you off."

I hung up the phone and stuffed it into my pocket.

I didn't notice when the rain started falling, soaking my clothes and hat.

I pushed the tricycle, walking slowly in the rain, my heart completely still.

Their threats and hypocrisy could no longer hurt me in the slightest.

I just want to live well, for my mother and for myself.

In the end, I still went to the hospital.

Not because of Ben Jones's threats, but because I wanted to see one last time the father who once gave me warmth.

In the ward, James Lincoln lay on the hospital bed, his face pale; when he saw me enter, his eyes were filled with anger.

He struggled to sit up but was stopped by Vivian.

Vivian sat on the edge of the bed, gently stroking her slightly rounded belly, looking at me with a triumphant gaze: "Sister, it's good that you came. Seeing you will cheer Dad up."

Ben Jones stood aside, arms crossed, coldly looking at me: "Wendy Lincoln, you'd better behave and not piss Vivian off here."

Watching them echo each other like that, I suddenly found it ridiculous.

"Behave?" I sneered coldly, my gaze sweeping over Vivian, "When you and your mother schemed against me, stole everything from me, and caused my mother's death, did you ever think about me?"

Vivian's face instantly went pale, her eyes flickering. "Sister, what are you talking about? I don't understand."

"You don't understand?" I took a step forward, my voice rising a little.

"That data leak you stole my USB flash drive and handed it over to the competitor! Your mother brought forged evidence to my father, leaving me accused!"

"Nonsense!" Vivian screamed. "You're the one who betrayed the company and now you're trying to frame me!"

Ben Jones shoved me roughly aside, his eyes fierce. "Wendy, don't slander her here! Vivian is not that kind of person!"