In the pouring rain, my husband asked me to deliver his medicine, but I was too delirious with a severe cold to manage it.

My daughter took my place, only to be struck by a large truck in the storm and killed.

I rushed to the scene, and with her last breath, she handed me the well-protected medicine, urging me to give it to her father.

When I arrived at the office, I burst into the room to find a disheveled woman lying in my husband's arms.

“Mr. Ross, you're so naughty; it tickles,” she giggled.

Suppressing my rage, I threw the medicine at them. “Stanley, you lied to me! Your daughter died delivering your medicine!”

Stanley frowned and scolded me, “Aurelia, how could you be so cruel? Are you so desperate for attention that you wish our daughter were dead?”

But he didn't know our daughter was in the morgue, still worrying about her father's health with her dying breath.