Chapter 4

I stared at Ruth in disbelief. My brother's attitude made it clear the marks weren't from him, and they certainly weren't from me.

Before I could react, my parents blocked my view.

My mom pointed at me, heartbroken:

"You're still staring at Ruth even now? We should never have brought you back! Come with me to the police station right now and turn yourself in! Give Ruth an explanation!"

I shook off my mom's hand, not backing down at all:

"Since it's come to this, let's investigate to the end. I'm going to find that condom no matter what!"

Just as I was about to enter the room, Ruth's legs suddenly gave out, and she blurted:

"Don't go in there!"

Her shout made everyone look at her. Even my brother froze.

I pressed forward step by step:

"Why? Are you feeling guilty?"

"Or maybe..."

I looked at the marks on her chest, thoughtful:

"This whole thing was staged by you?"

The moment those words left my mouth, everyone's eyes snapped to Ruth, their gazes now questioning.

Ruth's face went ugly. Her body swayed as if about to collapse.

Just then, someone screamed:

"Blood! She's bleeding!"

Everyone looked quickly. Blood was actually flowing down Ruth's inner thigh.

No one had time to curse at me anymore. They rushed to get her to the hospital.

The doctor came out shaking his head:

"The baby couldn't be saved."

My mom fainted on the spot. My dad quickly helped her to another hospital room.

My brother heard the news as if struck by lightning. Then with red eyes, he grabbed my throat:

"Carter, why? Why would you do this to Ruth?"

I knew that even if I said I was a woman now, it wouldn't matter.

Ruth would definitely claim I killed the White family's first child, and then I'd never be able to clear my name.

I struggled free from my brother's grip. Just as I was figuring out what to say, Ruth's mother burst into the hospital with a group of reporters.

My brother tried to approach, but she ignored him completely and rushed straight to the hospital bed.

Ruth woke up then, crying her eyes out. Her mother held her heartbrokenly, then turned to the reporters with righteous fury:

"Reporter friends, my daughter was pregnant and was assaulted by Carter. Now the baby is gone! Please report this truthfully—we must get justice for my daughter!"

After speaking, she gave the reporters a meaningful look.

The reporters immediately swarmed forward, cameras and microphones thrust in my face.

Ruth's eyes were red as she spoke in a trembling voice:

"Didn't you want to find the condom earlier? Now that the reporters are here, you can all go look!"

She hadn't dared let me look before, but now she was taking the initiative.

When things are abnormal, there's definitely something suspicious.

And looking at her now, she didn't seem like someone who just had a miscarriage at all.

But it didn't matter if they really wanted to look. Before leaving, I'd confirmed that Ruth hadn't left anything in my room.

Even if there was something, the DNA couldn't possibly be mine.

Hearing this, my brother immediately led the reporters to my room. On one side was his wife, on the other his blood relative—he wanted to know the truth more than anyone.

As it turned out, the group found a recently used condom under my bed.