Two weeks later, I underwent a second reconstructive surgery on my right hand.
The doctor told me most of its function could be restored.
But if I wanted to return to the operating room, I would need a long course of rehabilitation.
I asked how long it would take.
He said it could be a year, or even longer.
I nodded.
"Then I'll begin rehabilitation."
On the day I was discharged, Ethan requested to see me.
His lawyer said he was willing to sign the divorce agreement.
He was willing to transfer every property and all of his savings into my name.
He was willing to publicly admit to falsifying documents, unlawfully confining me, and causing me harm.
He had only one request—see me in person.
At first, I didn't want to go.
But in the end, I did.
Not to forgive him.
There were simp
