Chapter 12

Crash!

The phone suddenly slipped from his hand, shattering into pieces instantly.

Julian’s brain stopped functioning. He, who had been hailed as a genius since childhood, couldn't seem to comprehend the officer’s words.

What did they mean, Lydia had passed away?

She was clearly alive and well; why would they cancel her registration?

Wasn't she just throwing a tantrum? What did an explosion have to do with her!

Julian’s entire body began to shiver. He bent down to pick up the broken phone to ask for clarification.

But as his legs bent, they gave out, and he collapsed onto his knees.

His knees landed directly on the shards of the phone, but he didn't seem to feel the pain.

He stubbornly fumbled with the device, looking as if nothing had happened—his calm demeanor was almost eerie—as he tried to ask them to repeat what they said.

But the smashed phone was dead. No matter how many times he asked, only the sound of his own voice echoed back.

Eventually, his voice spiraled out of control, and his palms were bloodied from being stabbed by the broken glass of the screen.

But he seemed to have lost his sense of pain; only his racing heart indicated that he was far from calm.

It wasn't until his assistant knelt down and called his name that he snapped back to reality and looked at him blankly.

After staring for a while, he remembered the assistant had spoken earlier, but he couldn't remember what was said.

Julian heard his own voice sounding like it was coming from an old phonograph—distant, dry, and stuttering.

"What did you... just say? Who... is gone?"

The assistant had also heard the voice from the phone. Being questioned now made his brain go numb; his back was soaked with cold sweat.

He had only left because the wife told him to. Who could have guessed the next news of her would be her death?

The assistant instinctively felt that the wife’s accident was partially his fault, and he was too terrified to say a word.

But Julian grabbed him by the collar like a madman. "Speak! Who is gone?"

Looking into his boss’s bloodshot eyes, the assistant was nearly scared to death, his voice carrying a sob.

"It’s the wife. The wife... is gone. Earlier, she said she wanted to be alone and told me to go down first, so I came back. But I waited in the ward for so long and she never showed up, so I went up to look..."

Julian didn't speak, he just signaled with his eyes for the man to continue.

"Then there was no one on the rooftop, so I went down to search. I searched the whole hospital and... couldn't find her. Mr. Julian, it has nothing to do with me, I... ah!"

Before he could finish, he was knocked to the ground by Julian’s fist.

"What do you mean, gone? Didn't I tell you to take her back? Didn't I tell you to watch her? Didn't I tell you to call me if anything happened? Why didn't you watch her! Why didn't you tell me the second she went missing!"

Julian sat on top of him, striking the assistant’s face again and again as if he had lost his mind.

It wasn't until people came forward to pull him off that he collapsed onto the floor like a pile of mud.

There were panicked voices all around him, but he couldn't hear any of them.

He just kept telling himself: it’s all fake.

How could an explosion suddenly happen in a busy downtown area? Lydia was safely in the hospital; how could she have been in that car!

"Yes, it must be fake."

It must be the same trick from six years ago.

They drove Lydia away and then made up a lie to deceive him!

Maybe that call from the police was also someone hired to play a part.

They were doing all this to make him give up on Lydia so he would marry whoever they wanted him to marry.

With this thought, Julian’s heart gradually steadied.

He struggled to his feet and began to run forward with disorganized steps.

What if Lydia hadn't compromised this time and was already waiting for him in the ward?

When he reached the door, he pushed it open without hesitation.

"Lydia!"

But the ward was empty. It was so clean it looked as if no one had ever stayed there.

He shoved open the bathroom door and yanked back the curtains, his movements becoming more erratic with each attempt.

It wasn't until he had searched every corner of the small ward and found no trace of Lydia that he stopped.

Suddenly, there was movement behind him. A look of joy flashed in his eyes as he whipped around, only to see the doctor entering with a new patient.

Julian froze, his gaze as cold as ice at forty below.

"Doctor, this ward is occupied."

The doctor looked confused. "No, it isn't. The patient who stayed here this morning passed away in an accident. This room just became available."

As the doctor’s words fell, Julian’s heart—the one that had been lying to itself—shattered completely.

Why?

He had already convinced himself that Lydia might just be missing, not dead.

But why was everyone telling him that Lydia was dead!

At this moment, Julian felt as if his heart was being crushed by a hand. The pain was so intense he had to double over to catch his breath.

But it was useless; it felt as though someone was taking a blade to his heart and slicing it apart inch by inch.

A single tear struck the floor, followed by many more in quick succession.

"Lydia... is dead?"

Chapter 13

Julian didn’t know who he was asking, but the moment that thought surfaced, his stomach churned with a violent spasm.

He rushed into the bathroom and retched.

He didn't straighten up until he was vomiting bile.

The man in the mirror was both a stranger and hauntingly familiar; he looked like he did six years ago on the day Lydia vanished, yet far more terrifying.

Sunken eye sockets, bloodshot eyes, and a face as gray and lifeless as a vengeful spirit from hell.

As he stared, he began to laugh deliriously, a laugh that triggered a coughing fit until he spat out a mouthful of blood.

So, her phone being off wasn't a game of hard-to-get; something had truly happened.

And yet, he had maliciously speculated that she was playing new tricks.

If he had noticed something was wrong sooner, would all of this have been avoided?

If he had personally escorted her back to her ward, would she still be alive?

But there are no "ifs" in this world.

Lydia was dead, her body lost to the explosion.

Julian’s heart felt dead too. He swallowed the thick taste of blood rising in his throat over and over again.

He didn’t know how long he stayed in the bathroom, but by the time he emerged, the sky was pitch black.

His legs felt numb, as if he had fallen back into the state of a walking corpse.

With unfocused eyes, he hailed a cab to the police station.

When he got out, he nearly collapsed, saved only by the driver’s steadying hand.

Julian stood at the entrance of the station for a long time, not daring to enter.

He thought that as long as he didn't go inside, the Lydia in his world would never truly be dead.

But a police officer who was an acquaintance recognized him and pulled him through the doors.

The first words out of the officer's mouth were, "My condolences."

Julian’s heart jolted. He thought he had spent the afternoon coming to terms with it, but he realized that as long as someone mentioned her name, his heart would constrict uncontrollably.

After a routine questioning, the police took him to see the surveillance footage to confirm her identity.

Julian sat in the chair like a puppet.

The second Lydia appeared on the screen, his eyes turned red.

She still bore the wounds from being forced to kowtow, limping as she walked.

Her figure looked so small. She got into that car and never came out.

When the vehicle exploded on screen, Julian looked away.

But though he blocked his eyes, the sound still reached his ears.

The roar of the explosion felt like it went off right in Julian's heart, making it stop for a moment.

A long while later, he gasped for air like a drowning man being rescued.

The officer handed him the ID card recovered from the scene and told him to process the cancellation of her registration.

Julian stared at the card for a long time, unable to bring himself to let it be clipped.

He pressed the ID tightly into his palm and held it against his chest.

It felt as if Lydia were still leaning against him, as if she had never left.