Rebirth In Divorce My New Mr. Perfect (by Summer Knowles) novel Chapter 434

Lucy swayed unsteadily but remained silent.

In contrast, Mrs. Chancer had completely lost her composure. She shot up from her seat, her voice sharp with desperation. “This was Lucy’s doing from the very beginning! I was only persuading her to turn herself in!”

Charlotte, too, broke down, crying hysterically. “Yes! It was her! It had nothing to do with me! I wasn’t involved!”

The chaotic scene unfolded before the entire courtroom.

In the end, Charlotte was sentenced to two years in prison. However, since she was pregnant, she would be placed under house arrest until she gave birth.

She nearly collapsed upon hearing the verdict, but she knew this was already the best outcome she could hope for. Once the baby was born, she could apply for a reduced sentence.

Mrs. Chancer’s glare was ice-cold as she fixed her eyes on Sarah. Her perfect plan had unraveled before her very eyes.

Lucy, on the other hand, had never expected things to end this way. Once again, she was sent back to the psychiatric hospital.

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At the hospital, Zachary had been lying in his hospital bed for five days now. Steven arrived with packed food, placing it on the table beside him.

Zachary frowned. “You again?”

Steven nearly jumped in frustration. “Who else would it be? What’s going on with you and Miss Sanders? Why is she ignoring you?”

Zachary shook his head, confused. Truthfully, even he didn’t know.

The only explanation he could think of was that Sarah must have overheard his conversation with Vivian that day.

He had tried calling her, but she had blocked his number. And with his injured leg, there was no way for him to go find her himself.

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At the same time, Sarah sat in her office, meeting with a student.

She let her words settle before continuing, “Death is irreversible. If you make an impulsive decision without considering the consequences, how can you be certain that relief is what awaits you? How do you know you won’t regret it the moment it’s too late?”

Sarah knew the student had probably heard similar reasoning before. But she said it anyway.

After a brief pause, she reached into her drawer and pulled out a piece of paper. “This is a table with seventy-two boxes. Each box represents one hour. If you had only three days left to live—without sleep—what would you want to do in that time? Write it down.”

The student unfolded the paper, staring at the blank grid in front of her. A pen sat in her hand, motionless.

Seventy-two hours.

If this truly were the last three days of her life, wouldn’t she want to do something meaningful?

But what was meaningful?

If she were about to die, in that final moment, what would she wish she had done?