Adelia Keith walked out of the City Hall like a ghost—eyes blank, steps unsteady.

It wasn't until she got into the cab that the tears she'd been holding back finally fell, silent and uncontrollable.

Four years ago, to save both families' reputations, she married Ethan Fargeat in place of her runaway sister.

At first, Ethan treated her coldly.

She never complained. She cared for him down to the smallest detail.

Little by little, Ethan lowered his guard.

He started letting her mess up his schedule and patiently listened to her lame jokes.

He even trusted her with confidential work documents.

Then Ethan got better and better to her.

He gave her a no-limit black card and took her to every Michelin restaurant.

Even when she craved peanut brittle from the Northside in the middle of the night, he'd drive across the city to get it. He'd pinch her cheeks and sigh, "I've never seen a little foodie like you."

Adelia thought she had finally warmed his heart, until Gwen came back from abroad with a terminal cancer diagnosis two months ago.

That night, their father, Jordan Keith, called a family meeting.

He said sternly, "Gwen's in late-stage cancer, has at most six months. Her biggest regret is not marrying Ethan. So step aside for now. After the wedding and she's gone, he'll still be yours."

Her stepmother, Diana Ryan, pleaded, "Gwen's your sister, just give in this once!"

Gwen sobbed. "This is my only wish before I die. Please, I'm begging you."

Adelia couldn't believe what she was hearing.

Eyes red, voice shaking, she cried out, "You pushed me into a marriage like a puppet—now you want him to marry her? What do you take me for? I won't agree to this!"

Jordan ignored her protests and locked her up, saying she'd be released once she agreed.

On the third day, she heard Ethan had smashed a mug in front of Jordan, furious.

On the 13th day, news popped up on her phone. Ethan had publicly declared, "Mrs. Fargeat can only be Adelia."

On the 28th day, Ethan froze all business with the Keith family, forcing them to give her back.

And a month later, the locked door finally opened.

Thinking about everything Ethan had done for her lately, Adelia's eyes instantly welled up. She ran straight into his arms, stumbling.

But the next second, she heard his hoarse voice. "I'm sorry, Lia.

"Your parents insisted. They even got on their knees. For the sake of both families' long relationship, I have to go through with this with Gwen.

"But don't worry, it's just a fake wedding. My wife will always be you."

In that moment, Adelia felt her heart drop straight into a void. Even breathing was painful.

After a beat, she gently touched his thinner face, forcing back her tears. "You've done enough."

At first, she watched—helplessly—as Ethan slid a diamond ring onto Gwen's finger, giving her a lavish, public wedding.

Later, he was still good to Adelia.

But he started spending more and more time with Gwen—from the occasional visit to staying out for nights on end.

When Adelia got upset, he would patiently explain, "I don't love her. I just want to be there for her, as a friend, until the end."

Adelia believed him.

But the truth slapped her hard—brutal and humiliating.

---

When the car stopped outside the Fargeat Group, Adelia had already pulled herself together.

She held the fake marriage certificate tightly in her hand.

She stepped off the elevator and ran straight into Ethan's secretary.

The secretary looked uncomfortable.

"Mrs. Fargeat, what brings you here?"

"I'm here to see Ethan."

"He's in a meeting. He can't..."

Ignoring her, Adelia marched to the office door.

Just as she reached for the handle, she heard Gwen's voice inside.

"Ethan, look at me and answer honestly." Gwen tugged at his tie with one hand, the other pressed over his heart. "Have you ever really gotten over me?"

Ethan's throat bobbed. Her touch clearly rattled him, but his voice was cold. "You're overthinking."

"Am I?" Gwen laughed softly. "You married Adelia just to wait for me to come back, didn't you? And now that I'm back, you're getting a marriage certificate with me.

"Not to mention all the things you wrote in your journal.

"You said you agreed to the marriage to force me to come back... Mmph—!"

Before she could finish, Ethan yanked her forward, gripping the back of her neck.

Every word she hadn't said was swallowed by a rough, almost violent kiss.

His eyes burned. Each word was ground out between clenched teeth. "Yes. I never let you go. So, Gwen, how do you plan to repay what you owe me?"

Outside the door, Adelia stood frozen, like she'd been dunked in ice water. She couldn't feel a thing.

She thought about how just days ago, Ethan held her tight, kissed her hair, and said, "Adelia, Gwen's in the past. Now, only you are worth my heart."

What a joke.

So-called "worth my heart" were nothing but lies.

Their marriage had been fake from the start.

Adelia slowly closed her eyes, holding back tears.

Since this was his choice...

Then she'd grant it. She'd let him be with his true love.

Chapter 2

Adelia stepped into the elevator in a daze.

By the time she snapped out of it, the elevator had already stopped at B1.

A cheerful intern approached her. "Here to see Ms. Gwen Keith's art exhibit? Please follow me."

Only then did Adelia realize—she'd forgotten to press a floor.

As if possessed, she walked into the gallery.

The intern trailed behind, still chirping, "This whole exhibit was funded by Mr. Fargeat. There's a national tour planned next."

Adelia's gaze landed on an oil painting.

It was a man's bare back. Toned muscles. A distinct scar on his lower back.

She had traced that scar a thousand times in the dark. She knew exactly who it was.

Gwen had painted Ethan over and over. Each canvas had a date in the bottom right corner—clear, sharp, and unforgiving.

June 20. Ethan stood in the kitchen, bathed in warm light.

—That was Adelia's third day being shut in. She'd gone on a hunger strike and passed out from stomach pain. Yet, he was making oatmeal for Gwen.

July 1. Slender hands folded a silk nightgown embroidered with irises. The wedding band on his finger gleamed coldly.

—Her 13th day locked up. She had slit her wrist with a razor. Blood soaked half the bedsheet. Yet, he was folding Gwen's clothes neatly, carefully.

July 15. He held an umbrella, walking down a tree-lined path. On the edge of the canvas, their fingers were interlaced.

—Her 28th day. Jordan had chained her to the bed, forcing her to give up. She burned with fever, drenched in cold sweat, curled up, and shaking. Yet, he was holding Gwen's hand, strolling in the morning light.

Each painting was like a needle stabbing into her heart.

So during that pitch-black month, he wasn't fighting for her. He was with Gwen all along.

The broken mug, the dramatic declarations, and cutting ties with the Keith family were all a cover.

Adelia clenched her fists, nails digging deep into her palms, but she felt nothing.

She couldn't take it anymore. She turned and left.

---

She scheduled the aborrtion for the next week. Then she went to the old house to pack up her mother's things.

As soon as she walked in, Jordan tossed her a plane ticket.

"Diana and I have talked. We want Gwen to stay with Ethan until she leaves.

"That flight's in ten days. Go have some fun. Clear your head."

Adelia stared at the ticket, lips pressed tight.

She knew exactly what this was—he wanted her out of the way.

Only when she left could they be alone without guilt.

"Lia, don't take it the wrong way," Diana sniffled. "We just want to make Gwen's last days peaceful..." Same tired line. Adelia had heard it too many times.

She cut in flatly, "Got it. I'll go."

Ethan? She was done with him.

This house? She didn't need it either.

Jordan was stunned. He thought she'd finally given up the fight.

He softened a bit. "We're holding a farewell party for Gwen in three days. Be there."

"Okay."

---

Back home, Adelia grabbed a cardboard box. She started packing up everything related to Ethan.

The couple mugs he gave her for his birthday.

Their first movie ticket stubs.

The photo booth strips she forced him to take.

She was nearly done when the door clicked open.

Ethan was back.

He saw the full box, and his chest tightened. He rushed forward.

"Lia, what are you doing?"

Chapter 3

Adelia kept her head down, not even lifting her eyes.

"Since Gwen's moving in, I figured I'd pack my stuff. Wouldn't want her to get upset."

Ethan grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his arms.

"You're still mad at me, aren't you?"

"No."

"Adelia, you're a terrible liar."

He tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"I've said it a hundred times. I'm just playing along with her. If I really wanted to marry her, I'd have taken her back four years ago."

Adelia stared into his eyes, then suddenly smiled.

"Ethan." Her voice was soft, but every word landed. "You know exactly who you want to marry."

Before the words even settled, his phone rang, drowning her out.

Ethan glanced at the caller ID and answered immediately.

After a few words, he just said, "Something came up at work," and left in a hurry.

Watching his back disappear, Adelia suddenly realized—it didn't matter whether she confronted him or not.

Some feelings are like expired candy.

It looks fine on the outside, but it's already gone bad.

Force it down, and all you taste is bitterness.

Not long after he left, Gwen sent her a message.

In the photo, Ethan knelt on one knee, long fingers gently cradling Gwen's ankle as he carefully tied a four-leaf clover anklet.

Adelia suddenly remembered the Christmas market years ago.

She'd dragged Ethan with her, standing in front of a stall forever picking out four-leaf clovers. When she turned around, he was three steps away, checking his watch, visibly annoyed. "You really believe in this superstitious crap?"

Just then, more texts came in.

"I casually said I wasn't feeling well, and Ethan got me the luckiest four-leaf clover."

"Has he ever done something like that for you?"

"Adelia, face it. He never loved you."

Adelia clenched her phone. The cold glow of the screen lit her face, freezing every last trace of warmth in her eyes.

She got it now.

Ethan never loved her.

And from now on, she wouldn't beg for it either.

---

He didn't come home for two days.

On the third, she finally saw him—at Gwen's farewell party.

He wore a sharp black suit, pushing a wheelchair through the crowd.

Ethan sat draped in a blanket, delicate as a dying flower.

She lifted her head just slightly, and Ethan immediately leaned in, asking what hurt.

Adelia's lips curled into a faint sneer.

He claimed it was all just an act.

But the way he looked at her was the same tender gaze from four years ago.

The party began.

Jordan stood up, voice trembling. "My daughter... she's both unlucky and blessed. Though her life was short, she had a family who loved her and a partner who never left her side..."

A large screen lit up. Photos played one by one.

Her first birthday, surrounded by doting parents.

At ten, learning piano hand-in-hand with Jordan.

At 18, group hugs at graduation.

And Adelia—just a blur in the background. Silent. Out of place. A witness to a joy that was never hers.

Then the images shifted. Now, it was Ethan by Gwen's side.

Bringing her flowers after competitions.

Sitting still as her model while she painted.

Holding her tightly on their wedding day...

From school uniforms to tailored suits—time changed everything, except the way he looked at her.

Right when the room fell into silent emotion, the screen glitched—and suddenly, blood-red words slashed across a black background.

"Gwen, bltches like you belong in heIl!

"You stole my man. Just like your mom—slvts who live off other women's leftovers!

"I hope your body gets burned to ash and your soul never finds peace!"

The room froze.

Then—chaos.

Chapter 4

Everyone silently turned to look at Adelia.

She stood frozen, confused—until a distant shriek broke the stillness.

"Gwen!"

Gwen had fainted from the curse.

Ethan's face changed. He rushed over, scooped her up, and ran toward the infirmary.

Adelia stood dazed until a sharp slap snapped her out of it.

"I raised a monster like you?!" Jordan roared, veins bulging. "Gwen's barely holding on, and you curse her on top of that?!"

Adelia stumbled back, accidentally knocking over a tower of champagne. The glasses shattered, and she collapsed onto the shards.

"It wasn't me!" she gasped through the pain.

"Shut up!" Jordan snapped. "You've always hated how we favored Gwen. Now she's dying, and you can't show a shred of sympathy?

"Someone, lock her up!"

---

Adelia was thrown into a pitch-black room.

She had feared the dark since she was a child—and she was claustrophobic.

The moment the door slammed shut, her breath caught. Darkness surged in like a tide.

She banged on the door, blood smearing the wood. "Open up! Please! Let me out!"

But outside, it was dead silent.

Her strength drained. She slid to the floor, chest heaving, vision darkening.

She didn't know how much time had passed.

Just as she was about to black out, the door creaked open. She crawled toward the light—

Splash!

A bucket of thick, foul blood poured over her.

Then another. And another...

She choked, barely breathing.

Through the haze, she saw a familiar figure at the door.

It was Ethan.

He stood at the edge of the light, watching as his men dumped blood over her—without stopping them.

Only after the final bucket, he walked over.

He knelt and gently wiped her face with a silk handkerchief. His voice was ice.

"Gwen woke up. She didn't blame you. She even begged for you—said you were just possessed, not truly cruel.

"This blood? I had it prepared. It wards off evil." He paused. "But it needs three full days to work."

A flicker of fear passed through her eyes. She grabbed his hand, trembling. "I swear, I didn't curse her. Please believe me..."

"Adelia." He peeled her fingers away, one by one, slowly and mercilessly. "You made a mistake. You get punished. Even a child knows that."

Her fingertips grew cold. Her lips parted in a desperate whisper.

"Please, don't leave me here. I'm scared of the dark..."

"What about Gwen?" His eyes were cold. "Did you think about her fears when you cursed her?"

Adelia's mind spun.

She remembered that stormy night—power out, huddled in a corner.

It was Ethan who lit candles all over the room and held her close, his warm palm on her back. "Don't be scared, Lia. I'm here."

Now, the same man was the one casting her into the darkness.

Suddenly, pain ripped through her stomach.

She clutched her belly, feeling warm liquid gush out.

Her voice cracked as she grabbed his pant leg, trembling.

"Ethan, it hurts... I think I'm having a mis-carriage. Please, take me to the hospital..."

He paused, frowning. "You're not pregnnant. How could you miscarry?"

"I am..." she gasped, nearly fainting. "I'm carrying your..."

"Enough." He didn't believe her. "I'll pick you up in three days." Then he left.

Adelia whimpered like a wounded animal, clawing at the floor—unable to hold him back.

Her fingers curled, scratched the air, and finally fell limp.

She lay in a pool of blood.

Before blacking out, a bitter smile tugged at her lips.

"Ethan...

"Now I see you for who you really are."

Chapter 5

Adelia woke up in a hospital bed.

"You're finally awake." The doctor sighed, looking at her with pity. "You had a mis-carriage and lost a lot of blood. A few minutes later, and even God couldn't have saved you."

The doctor told her a servant found her unconscious the next day while bringing her food—she barely survived.

"Your family's unbelievable. How could they treat you like this? Especially your husband—he wouldn't even answer his phone. When he gets here, I'll give him a piece of my mind."

"Doctor." Adelia cut her off, clutching the blanket. "Don't tell him about the pregnnancy."

He wouldn't believe her anyway.

And Ethan's heart was no longer hers. She didn't want anything to do with him anymore.

The doctor hesitated but eventually left, shaking his head.

Ethan never showed up during her hospital stay.

But in Gwen's Instagram posts, he was everywhere.

Day one, a close-up of mushroom soup. The caption read, "Ten years later, still my favorite taste."

Day two, a photo of a man sleeping by her bedside. The caption read, "Had another nightmare. Glad you're the first thing I see."

Adelia suddenly remembered—when she was sick, Ethan used to make her soup too.

He used to stay by her side, holding her hand when she had a fever.

Now she realized—that tenderness was never meant for her.

He was always loving someone else—through her.

On the day she was discharged, Ethan finally called.

"Something came up at work. I sent the driver to pick you up."

Adelia didn't question him, didn't scream. Just quietly said, "Okay."

As soon as the call ended, she gently touched her flat stomach.

Ethan was now just another contact waiting to be deleted.

She no longer had any expectations for him.

---

Adelia came home.

As soon as she stepped in, she saw Gwen painting freely on the living room wall.

Her wedding photo with Ethan and all the Polaroids were thrown on the floor, splattered with paint.

Seeing her, Gwen smiled. "Lia, you're back!

"This wall looked too boring, so I thought I'd redecorate. You don't mind, right?"

Adelia glanced at the mess and replied flatly, "Whatever."

This house meant nothing to her now.

And she wouldn't be the lady of it any longer.

Just then, Ethan walked out of the kitchen with a plate of sliced fruit.

Seeing Adelia heading upstairs, he blocked her way.

"Gwen's trying to ease things between you two. Is this how you respond?"

"What do you expect?" Adelia's pale face showed a trace of exhaustion. "Want me to thank her for destroying my photos?"

Gwen quickly stepped in. "Ethan, don't blame her. Lia didn't mean it..."

"If she didn't mean it, would she say such vicious things about you?" Ethan snapped, his eyes on Adelia growing colder. "Adelia, you've really let me down."

She didn't have the strength to argue. She shoved past his shoulder and went upstairs.

She'd just had surgery and was still weak.

But barely moments after lying down, the door opened.

Gwen stepped in, her gentle face now twisted with contempt.

"Hurts, doesn't it? Seeing him defend me like that?" Her lips curled. "I told you—he was only playing with you. And you actually believed it, you idiot."

Adelia turned her back and pulled the blanket over her head, ignoring her.

But Gwen wouldn't stop. She came closer, voice sharp. "Want to know what people are saying about you?

"They say you slept with your brother-in-law for four years and still ended up with nothing. Even the ho0kers at nightclubs get more than you.

"Face it, Adelia.

"Nobody wants you—not the Keith family, not Ethan. You and your mom? Just dead weight."

The moment she mentioned her mother, Adelia sat up. Her eyes were cold and sharp as a knife.

"You're this rattled... What, afraid he might've really fallen for me in these four years?"

Gwen froze, then laughed.

"Fall for you?" she sneered. "If he loved you, would I even have the chance to stand here and humiliate you?"

A moment later, the door slammed shut.

Adelia gripped the blanket, feeling a deep chill seep into her bones.

Good thing—she'd be leaving soon.

And never have to deal with those disgusting people again.

Chapter 6

The day before she left the country, Adelia visited an old mountain church surrounded by ancient trees.

Ever since the misscarriage, she'd been dreaming of a blood-soaked baby wailing at her every night.

So, she contacted a pastor to perform a ritual for peace.

But just as she arrived, she saw a tall man praying in the center of the nave.

She knew that back all too well.

"Did you hear? Mr. Fargeat's lover is terminally ill. To get her a protection charm, he hiked up the mountain, praying every step of the way...

"The last part was steep, and he nearly fell off the cliff!"

The whispers from passing strangers drifted into her ears.

Adelia froze mid-step.

His arm was wrapped in bandages, blood seeping through the gauze.

She remembered Ethan never believed in God.

He never stepped into churches and never kept any cross or Bible at home.

When his company gave him a rosary at an annual party, he tossed it to his assistant without blinking.

Even when she wanted to visit her mother's grave, all he did was stub out his cigaarette and say, "The dead are gone. Leaving flowers doesn't change a thing—it's just comfort for the living."

And now—he was kne-eling before a towering altar, head bowed low, hands tightly clasped. So humble it was almost pathetic.

Adelia's lips curled slightly. Bitterness surged in her chest.

So it wasn't that Ethan didn't believe in God after all. It was just that no one had ever mattered enough.

---

By the time Adelia left the church, dusk had fallen.

The wind in the valley was cold.

She pulled her coat tighter.

Just as she stepped onto the stone path, a shadow darted out from the trees.

The figure moved fast. Before she could scream, a hand clamped over her mouth and nose. Everything went black.

When she came to, she was slumped against a tree. A few medics were rushing toward a cliff edge with a stretcher.

"Hurry, the patient's down the cliff!"

Adelia pushed herself up, staggering.

Before she could make sense of anything, a tall figure strode up through the cold air.

"Adelia, I thought you cursed Gwen out of spite, but you really pushed her off a cliff!" Ethan's hand clamped around her throat, shoving her back against the tree. "Good thing she landed on the rocks below. If she had died, I would've buried you with her."

Adelia choked for air.

The look in his eyes said everything. And suddenly—she understood.

"I... didn't..." She forced the words out.

"Still lying?" Ethan's voice was ice. "You and Gwen were both here. Now she's at the bottom of a cliff. And you expect me to believe that's just a coincidence?"

Adelia clawed at his hand, struggling to breathe.

Just before she blacked out, his assistant came running. "Mr. Fargeat! We got her! She's alive!"

Ethan let go of her instantly and rushed to Gwen.

Adelia doubled over, coughing hard.

Through tear-blurred eyes, she saw Gwen clutching Ethan's sleeve on the stretcher, her face pale with fear. "Ethan, I'm scared..."

He gripped her hand tightly and said in a low voice, "I'm here. No one's going to hurt you."

He helped her into the ambulance with care, then turned to his assistant and said something under his breath.

A moment later, the assistant walked back toward Adelia, grabbed her wrist, and said coldly, "Forgive me, Ms. Adelia."

Then he dragged her to the edge of the cliff—and shoved her off.

The world spun. She slammed into a jagged rock, pain shooting through her bones.

High above, the assistant looked down and said, "Mr. Fargeat said you crossed the line. This is your punishment. Now you'll know what Ms. Gwen went through."

His footsteps faded, leaving her alone.

Agonizing pain racked her body. She tried to climb up again and again—each time failing.

Curled against the freezing rock, despair swallowed her whole.

She wanted to scream, to ask Ethan—Gwen nearly died. What reason would she possibly have to hurt her?

But even colder than the mountain wind was the answer she already knew that in Ethan's eyes, she would never compare to Gwen.

And he would never believe her.

---

There was no signal on the mountain. Adelia knew she couldn't wait for rescue. She forced herself up.

Her nails dug into cracks in the rock. Her palms tore open, bleeding.

She fell. She climbed. Over and over, until her body was covered in blood—and finally, she made it to the top.

The cable cars had stopped running. She stumbled down the mountain, her battered body barely staying upright.

By the time she reached home, dawn was breaking.

She cleaned her wounds as best she could and collapsed into bed.

Half-asleep, half-conscious—the door burst open.

A second later, she was yanked up and thrown onto the freezing floor.

Chapter 7

"Adelia, you nearly kiIled Gwen, and you still have the nerve to sleep?!"

Adelia struggled to lift her head. Jordan's eyes were bloodshot with rage.

Diana sobbed quietly beside him, head bowed.

"Lia..." Diana choked, tears streaming down. "Gwen doesn't have much time left. Why won't you just leave her alone? We let the farewell incident slide, but this time... are you trying to kilI her?"

Adelia gripped the bedsheet tight. She couldn't stand that fake face any longer.

She forced herself up, voice cold and firm. "I didn't curse her at the farewell, and I didn't push her off the cliff. You let Gwen frame me again and again—don't you fear karma?"

Smack!

A harsh slap landed across her face. She staggered back, blood seeping from the corner of her mouth.

"You ungrateful brrat!" Jordan shook with fury. "Your mother was the same—always blaming others. And now you..."

"Jordan, calm down," Diana said softly, patting his back. "It's my fault. I didn't raise Lia well..."

"It's not your fault!" he snapped. His eyes fixed on Adelia. "Since you're so capable, from today on, you're no longer part of the Keith family!"

With that, he stormed out with Diana.

A bolt of lightning split the sky. Rain poured down.

Adelia collapsed to the floor, curled up, buried her face in her knees, and cried in silence.

In a daze, her mother's dying words echoed in her ears.

That frail hand had gripped hers tightly, voice weak but clear. "Lia, walk your path well... I'll be watching from heaven..."

All these years, she forced herself to eat, to sleep, to live well—just to show her mother she could thrive, even without a father's love.

But now?

"Mom..." Adelia whispered, tears soaking her clothes. "You must be so disappointed in me..."

The storm outside raged on.

She clutched herself and cried herself to sleep.

---

When Adelia woke again, she was on the living room couch.

The fireplace crackled softly.

Ethan sat nearby, cigaarette between his fingers, pale sm0ke curling through the air.

"Ethan..." she croaked. Her throat burned with dryness.

He turned. The gentleness in his eyes was gone—only coldness remained.

"You're awake?"

"How did I get here?" She tried to sit up but had no strength.

He didn't answer. Just said, "I was going to pick you up yesterday. But Gwen's art exhibit caught fire. Every single painting was lost."

Her heart dropped.

She understood what he was implying. "It wasn't me," she said quickly. "I didn't set that fire. I didn't do any of this. You can investigate..."

"Adelia." He cut her off gently, but his gaze was unfamiliar. "Gwen's dream was to be a painter. Those paintings were her life. She would never destroy them herself."

Her fingers trembled. "What are you trying to say?"

"I didn't tell Jordan, or Gwen, that you started the fire," Ethan said, rising to his feet, towering over her. "But this can't go unpunished.

"Now you'll know what it feels like to lose something that matters."

Only then did she notice—he was holding the stuffed toy her mother made.

"I know this means the most to you," he said, fingers slowly tightening. The toy bent out of shape in his grip. "If I destroy it, you'll break too, won't you?"

"No!" Adelia fell off the couch, scrambling toward him.

That toy had been sewn by her mother when she was ten, even as her mother was gravely ill.

She'd stitched it herself, shaky hands barely holding the needle, and handed it to Adelia on her deathbed. "Lia, I can't stay with you anymore. If you miss me, just hold this..."

Later, Adelia secretly sewed her mother's ashes inside the toy. She held it every night, through every unbearable day.

And now Ethan wanted to destroy it?

"I told you, once Gwen's gone, things will go back to how they were," he said.

"You just wouldn't listen."

Then he tossed the toy into the burning fireplace.

"No—!" Adelia let out a scream that tore through the room and lunged forward.

Flames scorched her arms, but she didn't feel it. She dove into the fire, pulling out the charred remains of the toy.

She held it tightly, shaking, her tears splashing onto the blackened fabric.

Behind her, footsteps.

Ethan walked past without a glance and left the room.

---

Adelia cried the whole night.

At dawn, she packed her bags and walked out, the burnt toy still in her arms.

On the path to the gate, Gwen's wheelchair suddenly blocked her way.

"Move." Her voice was hoarse.

"Why so hostile, Adelia?" Gwen smiled. "Once you're gone, we probably won't meet again. After all, in Dad and Ethan's eyes, you're already a heartless witch. They'll never let you come back."

"Good," Adelia said coldly. "And since you're dying, we really won't see each other again."

Gwen suddenly burst into laughter.

"Oh, Adelia, you actually believed I was terminally ill?" She stood up from the wheelchair and walked toward her. "It was just a trick to fool Ethan. Once I announce it was a misdiagnosis, don't you think he'll be thrilled?

"Oh, and one more thing." She leaned in close. "Your marriage certificate with Ethan? Totally fake. I'm the real wife."

Gwen waited for her reaction—but got nothing.

Adelia gripped her suitcase handle, knuckles white, but her face was calm. "Well then, I wish you a happy life together."

She turned and walked off without looking back.

As she waited by the road, a black car pulled up beside her.

The window rolled down. It was Ethan. "You're leaving?"

"Yeah."

"We should both cool off for a while," he said quietly. "When you come back, let's fix this."

Adelia said nothing. She got in the cab.

As his car slowly drove off, she said silently in her heart, "Ethan, when you learn the truth, I hope you regret it."

The cab pulled away. Adelia glanced once at the house—where all her love and pain had lived.

Then she looked away. "Airport, please."

The two cars drove off in opposite directions.

Just like their lives—never to cross again.