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My life revolved around two jobs, every penny for Lily, my daughter' s critical heart surgery. $50,000 was a fortune for our "struggling" family, a sum my wife, Sarah, supposedly understood. Then, delivering to a gala one rainy night, I saw her. Sarah, my wife, shimmering in designer finery, bidding millions for a diamond necklace. "CEO Sarah Thompson is so generous!" the auctioneer boomed, shattering my world. My "struggling" wife was a millionaire, lavishing gifts on her ex-husband' s child while ours faced death. Her ex, Kevin, engineered my firing; Sarah, oblivious, simply dismissed the "incompetent delivery guy." She continued her cruel charade, denying Lily a simple cake, then abandoning her for Kevin's daughter. Lily's fragile heart worsened, and we were even ejected from the mall, Sarah silent. How could she live such a calculating lie for five years, faking poverty and neglecting her own child? Why sacrifice Lily' s survival for millions spent on another' s? The raw betrayal left my little girl whispering: "Daddy, did Mommy ever love us?" I walked away, taking only Lily and our broken trust. Sarah's desperate pleas were hollow, but Lily' s raw cry, "Mommy, I hate you," forced my decision. I' d take her money, not for me, but to save my daughter, transforming her deceptive wealth into Lily's only hope.