The crowd started gossiping about it again. So said the house they lived in was unlucky. Others claid Mrs. Young herself was the greatest misfortune; otherwise, why would three out of four family mbers die in such a short ti, leaving only her unscathed?
So boldly speculated that she would be next.
Everyone couldn’t help but find the whole affair bizarrely tragic.
Mrs. Young sat on the sofa, completely devastated. Carol Young’s body had been taken to the hospital morgue, to be cremated in three days.
Everyone who needed to leave had left, and the house was now cold and empty.
She sat there alone, the lively scenes of the past still swirling before her eyes.
This ti, the blow she suffered was imnse.
’This house... I can’t stay here anymore.’
She left and walked to the neighborhood’s 24-hour convenience store, where she bought a six-pack of beer.
When she got to the register, she reached into her pocket for money and her hand closed around a bank card wrapped in a piece of white paper.
She clutched it tightly, not daring to open it, but she already knew what it was.
Mrs. Young paid, quickly carried the beer to a bench, and sat down. Under the light of a streetlamp, she unfolded the paper.
It only took a few seconds to read the last few words written on it.
Mrs. Young instantly lost control and wailed.
Her sobs were frantic and painful.
At that mont, she was filled with genuine regret.
Mrs. Young sat there and cried all night. When the first light of dawn broke, her hair had turned white overnight.
The bank card in her palm was no longer sothing she desired. Holding it, she only felt its imnse weight, pressing down on her until she could barely breathe.
’I wish ti could turn back so our family could still be together.’
’Now I’m all alone. How can I go on living?’
’It’s true what they say: you reap what you sow.’
’Absolutely true.’
’I don’t bla anyone but myself.’
Mrs. Young stood up and looked to the east. The night was over, and the sun was rising as usual. It was a brand new day.
’I don’t have the courage to die, but I’ve decided to leave this place forever.’
’I’ll go back to the countryside and take care of my parents-in-law.’
’Hopefully, this can be my atonent.’
「Three days later」
Mrs. Young buried Carol Young’s ashes.
She looked at the three tombstones in a row—her closest family.
’They’re all gone.’
She sobbed, unable to speak.
Afterwards, she dragged her luggage onto a train heading to her parents-in-law’s ho in the mountains. It was a remote place she had only visited once when she got married.
Her mother-in-law was a simple country woman who had asked her to co back countless tis, but she never had. She never imagined she would now be willingly going there to live out the rest of her days.
’Let the apartnt be. It was our ho once. Even if I never co back, it will still be their ho.’
The train slowly started to move, and just like that, Mrs. Young was gone.
She would spend the rest of her life atoning for her sins, serving the two elders of the Young Family in sincere repentance.
’I hope that when I die, I’ll have even a shred of dignity to face my husband and two daughters.’
As for Marlon Marshall, she had thought everything through clearly three nights ago.
’He’s a plague. Untouchable. One touch and your family is destroyed. If I had known earlier, I never would have... ’
’But you can’t buy hindsight.’
’The rest of my life can only be spent in solitary repentance.’
「April 17th. Today was the day of Nora Ainsworth’s treatnt.」
Quentin Grant was up at the crack of dawn. He had nervously questioned Walsh several tis, and only after being assured that there were no dangers did he feel slightly more at ease.
Once again, he found himself waiting outside an operating room.
Compared to his previous anxiety and fear, Quentin Grant was much calr now. ’The inevitable will happen, won’t it?’
An hour later, the door opened.
Walsh ca out and gave Quentin Grant an "OK" sign.
But Quentin’s mood didn’t lighten.
"Go on in and see her."
Quentin Grant asked tentatively, "Can I go in to see her now?"
"Absolutely."
Quentin Grant pushed the door open and walked in.
Nora Ainsworth had not woken up.
After she was wheeled into her room, Quentin Grant stayed by her side.
He held her hand tightly, raising it to his lips for a gentle kiss.
Quentin Grant’s mind was a tangled ss.
’When a certain truth has to be revealed, can I really choose not to tell her?’
’But if I don’t tell her now, and she finds out later, won’t she be even angrier that I lied to her?’
After thinking it over and over, he finally decided. So things were unavoidable. When she woke up, he would tell her everything, down to the last detail.
Because before the one you love, everything should be laid bare.
There was no need for reservations. He knew that only the most painful truths were a sign of true loyalty, even if both of them were already covered in scars.
Chloe Marshall was 124 days pregnant. Her belly, at just over four months, hadn’t grown much larger. Today, she had a strong craving for tomatoes, but there were no tomatoes to be found in this place. So, Silly had risked going outside to pick so sour wild fruits for her.
Anything to satisfy her craving.
Chloe Marshall had never craved sour things as she did now.
She finished them all in just a few bites.
When she was done, she even licked her fingers. Silly watched her and said, "Wife, you’ve had it rough. In the future, I’ll buy you lots and lots of things, so much you can’t even finish it all."
Chloe Marshall was getting sleepy. "Okay. We’ve been in here for so long. When can we finally leave? The sll in here is awful."
"A few more months."
Hearing this, Chloe Marshall said, "Then we might as well just wait until after the baby is born."
"That’s exactly what I was thinking."
Chloe Marshall sat up again. "Can I ask you for sothing, Silly?"
"What?"
"When we get out of here, can you take off my handcuffs and leg chains?"
Silly smiled faintly. "So you can leave , right?"
Chloe Marshall’s breath caught. "I promised your nanny I wouldn’t leave you."
’At least, not right now.’
"I don’t believe you," he said—four cold words. "Won are all liars. When it’s ti for us to leave, I’ll take off the ones on your hands. But I won’t touch the ones on your feet."
Hearing this, Chloe Marshall still nodded. It was better than having none of them removed.
"What if soone tries to kill in the future? Won’t I be an easy target?"
His eyes darkened. "As long as I’m here, I won’t let anyone hurt you. You will be by my side at all tis."
Chloe Marshall clearly didn’t believe him. "You’re like a clay idol crossing a river—you can’t even save yourself."
Silly didn’t explain. Instead, he said, "Go to sleep. When you wake up, I’ll take you out for a walk tonight. Staying in here all day isn’t good for the baby either."
Chloe Marshall’s eyes lit up. "Really? Can I?"
"It should be fine. We just have to be careful."
Chloe Marshall nodded and lay down. Though she had been overco with sleepiness just monts before, she now found herself wide awake.
She desperately wanted out of this place. The air quality was terrible; almost every breath was foul. The thought of going outside to breathe fresh air made it impossible for her to sleep.
’I hope it gets dark soon,’ she thought. ’Then I can go out.’
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