"Ms. Rowan, you have a letter that arrived at No. 5 Wutong Lane."

No. 5 Wutong Lane—that used to be her home.

She asked the courier to leave the letter in the mailbox at the gate, and she diverted her route to pick it up.

She hadn't returned home in all the years she had been gone.

It wasn't that she didn't want to, but that she didn't dare.

Like now, as she stood at the entrance of her old home, the memories of the past almost eroded her flesh and blood, making it difficult for her to breathe.

Seeing the stone table in the courtyard, she remembered her father teaching her math problems.

Seeing the patch of open space, she remembered her mother loving to host barbecues on weekends.

And the large locust tree in the yard.

In the past, when they snuck out to play, Caleb would always be waiting for her by the gate on his bicycle.

Every time, she would scold him: "Caleb! I lied to my mom and told her I was going to the library—you standing here waiting for me is too conspicuous!"

But Caleb would just roll his eyes and say: "Don't you know you have no sense of direction? You get lost even at the school gate; if I didn't stand here, you'd be lost forever!"

The winter wind stung her eyes, and she squeezed them shut in agony.

Yes, she had been lost for a long time now.

She couldn't find her parents, and she couldn't find the road back to the past...

Pulling herself out of the memories, Rowan opened the mailbox, but her hand didn't touch a letter.

If not for the unextinguished cigarette butt at her feet, she would have thought it was a prank.

She hung her head, not daring to step into the courtyard, and turned to walk back.

Then, she noticed snowflakes drifting down—it was actually snowing.

Amidst the goose-feather flurry, under that large locust tree, Caleb stood in a black trench coat, looking cold and distant.

The white flakes drifted down in silence, gradually blurring Rowan’s vision.

She wanted to ask Caleb why he was standing in her yard; she wanted to ask if he had seen someone take her letter.

But then she remembered what Caleb had said: "From now on, let's pretend we don't know each other."

She felt a wave of retreat...

Just then, with a "splash," a basin of dirty water was poured over Rowan’s head from above.

The gate of the neighboring courtyard was pushed open, and Caleb’s mother grabbed the basin and threw it hard at Rowan: "Rowan, you murderer! You caused my son's death, and you still have the nerve to come back!?"

"I'm going to kill you!"

Rowan pinched her palm until it hurt, standing frozen in place, letting the furious fists land heavily on her.

A towering figure stepped in front of her.

It was Caleb.

The middle-aged woman’s hair was disheveled, her eyes bloodshot, as she screamed at Caleb.

"Caleb, she is the murderer who killed your brother! Don't you still have feelings for her? Don't stop me, I want to kill her!"

"Caleb, let me kill her, I have to kill her..."

Caleb held his mother tightly, his voice strained: "Mom, Brother wouldn't want to see you like this..."

A chilling gaze swept toward Rowan: "Get out."

It felt as if a torpedo had been fired into her chest, leaving a massive hole.

Rowan lowered her head and whispered in a very, very soft voice: "I'm sorry..."

She turned and plunged into the deeper snow, her lonely shadow merging with the snowy night, each step seeming a struggle.

Chapter 5

Rowan returned to the club.

Only by keeping busy could she prevent herself from being drowned by the pain.

However, the moment she entered, she saw an unexpected visitor from her past.

Claire scanned Rowan’s appearance and walked up to her in disappointment: "Rowan, do you remember what you used to be like?"

"In that essay competition, you wrote that your dream was to become a glorious teacher for the people."

"But look at you now, making such dirty money in a place like this!?"

"Rowan, how could you be... so cruel, so cheap."

"How can you even face Ezra, who is already dead..."

The smell of alcohol on Claire was pungent, stinging Rowan’s nose.

With damp eyes, she gazed quietly back at Claire, letting out a hollow laugh: "I am living my life well; how is that not a repayment for Ezra saving my life?"

There were many times she wanted to die, but she told herself she couldn't.

Because her life was bought with Ezra's.

The moment she finished speaking, a crisp slap echoed through the room, knocking Rowan's head to the side.

"Rowan, you really make me sick."

It was at that moment that Caleb entered the club, carrying an icy chill with him.

There was still unmelted snow on his shoulders.

His gaze swept over the slap mark on Rowan’s face as if he were passing over nothing more than air.

He walked straight to Claire's side and took her hand.

His tone held a gentleness that melted the December frost: "Let's go. Let's head home."

In the brief second they brushed past each other, the chest that had been dull and heavy for years seemed to vibrate once more.

A voice in Rowan’s heart screamed frantically—perhaps if she told the truth, she might earn his forgiveness.

If she didn't say it now, after the impulse passed, she would never have the chance again.

Rowan gripped her damp palms: "Since you're already here, why not listen to a story?"

Caleb paused, his fingertips trembling slightly.

Rowan took a deep breath, and painful memories began to replay before her eyes: "Back then, after I escaped the car, it wasn't that I didn't care about Ezra..."

"I wanted to call the police, but my phone was trapped in the car. I wanted to find someone to help pull him out, but no cars were passing by. And then, I passed out..."

Rowan’s explanation came out stumbled and broken, afraid Caleb wouldn't believe her, yet terrified that saying too much would pierce his heart.

But before she could finish, Caleb interrupted: "Rowan."

Rowan felt as if her heart were about to break through her chest: "Yeah?"

Caleb’s dark pupils were like bottomless abysses: "Are you confessing to me now because you think you can get my forgiveness?"

Rowan’s heart skipped a beat, unsure how to respond.

Then she heard Caleb let out a cold laugh, speaking each word with a deliberate rhythm that nearly gutted her.

"Rowan, I, will, NEVER, forgive, you."

After Caleb left.

The nightclub was still surging with a crowd. It was New Year's Eve, and Rowan forced a smile to welcome the guests.

At the stroke of midnight, many people swarmed outside.

June, her assistant, took Rowan to the plaza and handed her a hydrogen balloon printed with "2026": "Ms. Rowan, it's almost 2026. Make a wish and let the balloon fly; it’s said to be very effective!"

The sky was filled with heavy snow, and goose-feather flakes landed on her shoulders.

Rowan suddenly remembered the year she was eighteen, when she had made the same wish—to stay with them year after year, never to be separated.

Amidst the cheers of "Happy New Year."

Countless balloons soared into the sky. Rowan loosened her grip, and her balloon instantly "popped" and shattered, the fragments drifting down.

It was as if it were mocking her for not being worthy of having a wish.

She smiled, and as she laughed, the brilliant fireworks in her vision became blurred.

June’s thoughtful comfort sounded in her ear: "Ms. Rowan, I’ve found you a new place to live. You can move in tomorrow. The Feng Shui there is even better than at The Summit, and it's perfect for finding love!"

"...Okay."

Rowan dragged her exhausted body back home.

As the elevator opened, she saw Claire standing at her door.

Rowan froze. How did she know where she lived?

Ever since she learned they were living across the hall, she had deliberately avoided their travel times and had never crossed paths with her.

Claire whispered: "Rowan, aren't you going to invite me in for a seat?"

Rowan hesitated for a few seconds before stepping forward to unlock the door.

The first thing that caught her eye was a floor-to-ceiling cabinet filled with Naruto Obito Uchiha figures.

Obito Uchiha, who ultimately chose to destroy the world to escape the pain of reality.

He was an anime character Rowan had once despised the most.

But Caleb loved him.

Chapter 6

Claire turned to look at Rowan, her eyes suddenly turning red, and she asked for no apparent reason.

"Caleb's dream was to be a criminal investigator, yet he spent so many years as a patrol officer in the tiny town of Riverside. Do you know why?"

Rowan’s breathing lightened for a second, and she shook her head in silence.