Claire continued: "Two years ago, because of his outstanding work, the city's Criminal Investigation Division invited him to be a technical advisor. But he refused. Do you know why?"

Rowan pinched her palms, the unbelievable answer hovering in her throat.

It wasn't until Claire took out an old, yellowed four-leaf clover pendant and placed it in her palm.

Claire’s voice was hoarse: "It’s the coming-of-age gift you gave to Caleb."

In an instant, a flood of self-reproach and guilt nearly drowned Rowan.

"Every year on April 13th, Caleb would stand under that locust tree at the entrance of Wutong Lane for an entire day, waiting for someone."

April 13th was Rowan’s birthday.

Rowan’s chest felt heavy, as if stuffed with wet cotton.

He hated her so much, so why wait for her?

Rowan looked at Claire, the pain in her eyes threatening to overflow.

"Aren't you and Caleb getting married? Why are you telling me all this?"

In Claire’s eyes, bitterness rippled.

She smiled silently, looking out at the flying snow, as if she were mourning something through the storm.

She said: "Yeah, we are getting married."

"That’s all in the past, so talking about it doesn't seem to matter anymore."

She suddenly asked: "Rowan, didn't you like Caleb a lot back then? Knowing we're getting married, aren't you even a little sad?"

The night sky was starless.

Rowan’s lonely voice echoed in the empty house.

"Not sad. If you are happy, then I—and Ezra—will be happy for you."

"I wish you and Caleb happiness."

Suddenly hearing Ezra’s name, Claire froze for a moment, then laughed through her tears.

"Mm, I will be happy."

Rowan answered in her heart: And I will disappear from your lives forever.

The next day was moving day for Rowan.

She had waited a long time for the moving company, but instead, Caleb arrived.

She didn't have many belongings, just five or six cardboard boxes, which the moving company had already packed.

Just as Rowan was directing the men to move the boxes out, Caleb burst in, his body radiating hostility.

He snatched the box Rowan was holding, filled with the Obito Uchiha figures, and smashed it hard against the floor!

"Rowan, what did you say to Claire? After she left your place yesterday, she took sleeping pills and died in front of my brother's grave!"

Boom. Rowan felt as if a thunderbolt had struck the top of her head.

Everything around her went silent instantly; she couldn't hear anything clearly.

So, the mysterious message Claire had sent after leaving her house last night had been a final farewell!

Ten years later, she still hadn't let go of Ezra and had sacrificed her life for him!

[In the past, I used Caleb to take revenge on you, but now I’m going to pursue my own happiness.]

She had thought Claire meant she had finally let go.

Rowan realized too late, her heart feeling as though it were being torn apart, her legs going weak.

The hatred in Caleb’s eyes was like an ice-tempered blade.

Caleb’s colleague, who had arrived a step behind, stepped between them and issued a summons: "Rowan, you were the last person to see Claire alive. Please come back to the station with us to assist with the investigation."

At the police station, the interrogation room light was glaringly white.

Ignoring his colleagues' advice, Caleb insisted on interrogating Rowan himself.

He sat opposite Rowan, his eyes bloodshot, his stubble having grown out overnight.

"What did you say to Claire last night, and what happened?"

Rowan hung her head, silent, saying nothing.

After a long silence.

Caleb slammed a video onto the table in front of Rowan—a recording of Claire walking out of Rowan’s home, distraught and sobbing, clutching her arms.

He let out a low roar, like a lion that wanted to tear its prey to pieces.

"Rowan, did you think your silence would save you?"

"Tell me, why did Claire become so dead inside after leaving your place?"

"She had lived well for the past ten years, so why, after seeing you, did she go and die? What on earth did you say to her!?"

"If you don't explain this clearly, I’m telling you, you are suspected of inducing someone to commit suicide!"

Caleb pounded on the table: "That is equivalent to intentional homicide!"

Chapter 7

Rowan finally looked up. Her grayish-white eyes were dull and lifeless, her voice raspy to a terrifying degree.

She said, "Caleb, if I plead guilty and go to prison, to atone for what happened to Claire and Ezra, would everyone feel a little better..."

For these ten years, over three thousand days and nights, she had been trapped in pain. Every moment of being alive had been a torment.

Caleb’s fists clenched suddenly.

"Rowan, what I want is the truth and the facts!"

Rowan, right in front of him, had eyes as dead and still as a stagnant pool. Her heart felt numb and pained.

How could she tell him? Could she tell him that she hadn't known Claire hadn't been able to let go of Ezra for all these years?

Could she tell him that she shouldn't have mentioned Ezra while wishing Claire happiness last night?

Just then, there was a knock on the interrogation room door.

"Captain, we have a new development. We found a suicide note from your fiancée. It is highly likely she took her own life."

Caleb took the thin sheet of paper, his hands trembling. It felt heavy as a thousand pounds.

He glared at Rowan with hatred, then croaked at his colleague, "Do not let her go until she is cleared of suspicion. Take her to the detention room first."

With that, he left the interrogation room without looking back.

In the silent conference room, Caleb slowly unfolded Claire's suicide note.

[Caleb, seeing this letter is like seeing me.

All these years, I have been living on the hatred I felt for Rowan.

Even though I was certain she wouldn't have abandoned Ezra to save herself, even though I knew her pain was no less than ours.

But I still hated her. I hated that Ezra loved her so much he was willing to trade his life to save her.

Until yesterday, I saw Ezra's diary.

Only then did I learn that the person Ezra loved was me—it had always been me.

I am going to find Ezra now. Let me take all that hatred away with me. If you can, you should try to start over with Rowan.]

Caleb’s breathing hurt so much it stopped.

Start over? How was he supposed to start over with the woman who had abandoned the car to save herself and caused his brother's death?

Suddenly, a low, magnetic voice sounded at the door.

"Captain, I am the President of the Riverside Chamber of Commerce. Can we talk?"

Caleb frowned as he looked over; the hatred in his eyes surged even more intensely.

This was an elegant middle-aged man, old enough to be Rowan's father.

Last time, it was this man who had resolved Rowan's predicament without even showing his face.

"Captain, nice to meet you."

"Let me introduce myself. I am a close friend of Rowan’s mother, Mr. Lewis."

It wasn't the kind of relationship he had imagined?

Caleb left the man’s hand hanging awkwardly in the air: "What is it?"

Lewis didn't commit, simply retracting his hand: "If it’s convenient, I would like to see Rowan. My legal team will arrive shortly."

"She is currently in detention. No one will do anything to her. If she is innocent, we will naturally let her go."

The man paused for a moment before taking out a bottle of medicine and handing it over.

Caleb took the bottle and saw the label—Fluoxetine Hydrochloride capsules—and his heart skipped a beat.

This was the most potent medication for depression, prescribed only to those with suicidal tendencies.

Rowan had severe depression!?

Impossible. She had clearly appeared so indifferent and carefree; it was as if the events of that year hadn't left a single shadow on her heart.

Catching the disdain in Caleb’s eyes, the man said meaningfully, "There were underlying reasons for what happened back then. Rowan is innocent."

Caleb’s expression darkened further.

What underlying reasons could someone like Rowan, who would stop at nothing to evade responsibility, possibly have?

"Back then, her father committed a crime and jumped off a building. Her mother’s business was ruined, and she followed him to the grave. Rowan was forcibly put on a plane by her mother, who smashed her phone. She had four broken ribs, and there was a constant risk of intracranial hemorrhage."

"No one knows how devastating the blow was when she landed in a foreign country to find both her parents dead and her savior gone. All these years, she has worked under the table, starving, living a life no easier than yours."

There were no mirrors in the conference room, so Caleb couldn't see how pale his own face had become.