He also couldn't seem to remember the Rowan who wore a high ponytail and a white dress, agonizing over memorizing her schoolwork on the balcony, only to fall asleep in the middle of it.

Lewis said significantly, "Captain, the one who can best ignite Rowan’s will to live is probably you."

Lewis patted his shoulder, his voice hoarse: "Caleb, you must bring her back."

However, Caleb’s voice was frigid: "I'm sorry, that’s not convenient."

"Claire is still in the morgue. I have things to handle."

Caleb gripped his own fist tightly.

He gripped it until the blood was almost seeping through his skin.

He, a person she had abandoned ten years ago, how was he supposed to ignite her will to live?

Chapter 10

The nurse came in to change Rowan’s IV drip.

Turning around, she asked again: "Do you have any videos of her happy moments? From her graduation, her birthdays, or perhaps a wedding video? Things like that could stimulate her."

Caleb shook his head.

Those had been lost years ago, the very moment he decided to forget Rowan.

Caleb left the hospital and returned to the police station.

It was already the afternoon of the next day by the time he finished handling Claire’s affairs.

He and Claire’s mother buried Claire beside his brother.

Caleb also brought a bouquet of white chrysanthemums for Ezra.

He crouched before Ezra’s tombstone, a profound sense of bewilderment enveloping him.

"Brother, tell me, what should I do?"

What should he and Rowan do?

He couldn't understand it. All she had to do was send a single message.

Even if it meant financial ruin, even if it meant he had to give up everything—give up his university entrance exams, give up being a police officer—he would have rushed to her side without hesitation.

But she didn't.

In her heart, he accounted for nothing.

He felt so stupid—stupid for thinking her disappearance was an accident, stupid for thinking she had truly died.

Stupid for not giving up on searching for her for a single moment in the last ten years.

...

Caleb returned from the cemetery.

He took a shower and lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.

He got up and rummaged through the storage room.

In the storage room was a box containing a mobile phone—Rowan’s.

It was the phone she had left in Ezra’s car during the accident, which he had brought home.

She loved taking videos, so there were many in the gallery.

The phone wouldn't turn on, so Caleb found a technician to replace the battery before he could power it up.

After some thought, he took the phone to the hospital.

Mr. Lewis was away handling company business, leaving only a nurse in the ward.

Caleb played the videos, holding the phone to Rowan’s ear.

The first video was Rowan filming Ezra.

Ezra was sitting on the sofa, and Rowan was pinching his ear, saying angrily: "Ezra, I told you I can do my math homework myself! Stop messing around teaching me; I’m going to film this and tell Aunt and Uncle!"

The second video was also of Ezra.

Rowan’s face was covered in flour, and the camera then shifted to the dumplings on the table.

"Ezra, the dumplings you wrapped are so ugly. I’m filming this right now, and I am definitely not eating the ones you wrapped later!"

The third video, again of Ezra.

She was fanning herself with a notebook because of the heat, raging: "Ezra, are you a wall? You're blocking all the wind from the fan! I’m sweating; go buy me an ice cream later!"

Caleb lowered his head, listening quietly.

It seemed Rowan liked Ezra even more than he had imagined; every video she had ever filmed was of him.

The nurse beside him watched the video the whole time, sighing in wonder.

"These videos are so strange. She calls out one person’s name, but films another person’s face."

Caleb was puzzled and picked up the phone to look.

Only then did he realize that Ezra only occupied a corner of the frame in every video.

And he—Caleb—was the one who occupied almost the entire screen in every single one.

Just then, the phone automatically played the next video.

On screen, Rowan was sitting in the passenger seat of Ezra’s car, her face slightly flushed.

It was the first time he had ever seen Rowan flush with such shyness that she couldn't complete a full sentence.

The date was the day of the accident.

May 8, 2015.

She said to Ezra: "I don't seem to be someone who sticks to anything for very long, but the one thing I've stuck to for a long time... is liking you for ten years."

Chapter 11

Just then, the nurse exclaimed: "Captain, Ms. Rowan’s hand seems to have moved!"

Caleb rushed out of the ward in excitement to get the doctor.

Thus, Caleb didn't hear the end of the video.

Rowan said shyly and timidly: "Ezra, if I confess like this, wouldn't Caleb think it's cheesy if he heard it?"

"Will... will this work?"

The attending doctor arrived, shining a flashlight into her eyes.

They performed a series of checks on her physical awareness.

Finally, the doctor let out a sigh of relief.

"The patient moved her finger, which shows that this type of stimulation is effective for her."

"But it may still take some time for her to wake up."

Mr. Lewis appeared outside the door, saying excitedly: "Captain, we’ve tried every method here, but nothing worked."

"But as soon as you came, it had an effect..."

Caleb suppressed the ink-black darkness surging in the depths of his pupils and interrupted Mr. Lewis.

"What is effective for her is the person in this phone."

"I have things to do, I’m leaving."

Three o'clock in the morning.

Mr. Lewis couldn't sleep and came to the corridor to smoke.

However, when he looked down from the window, he saw Caleb still sitting on the bench downstairs, his head hanging low.

The night was cold and deep; he seemed to have merged with the darkness.

He sighed.

How could he not understand Caleb’s awkwardness and stubbornness?

Because of this, he had once lost someone who was very, very important to him.

Leaving him with a lifetime of regret.

Caleb sat on the hospital bench for the entire night.

He felt how ridiculous he was.

On the way here, he had prepared many speeches and recalled many things from the past.

He wondered which funny story to tell her—should he say how, when she was five, she took digestive pills as snacks and shared them with every kid in kindergarten?

Or should he mention when she was eight and had to have blood drawn for a check-up, then refused to let the nurse leave after it was done?

"Nurse, you haven't given back the blood you drew, you can't leave!"

Or perhaps mention when she was twelve and graduated from elementary school, when she had every classmate write in her yearbook and cried with red, puffy eyes, saying she was sad that they would be parting ways after six years?

But at the middle school entrance ceremony the next year, half of those classmates ended up in the same class as her.

He thought it was ridiculous.

It was ridiculous how, when speaking of her, those memories were still fresh in his mind.

He could even remember the details of those memories.

Even more ridiculous was that he had actually believed he could awaken her will to live.

But how could someone she hadn't thought of in ten years awaken her will to live?

Just moments ago.

Rowan had only heard her own voice confessing to Ezra, and she reacted.

How laughable.

He was truly laughable.

He had been laughable for ten years, waited for ten years—was that not enough?

The sky began to turn pale.

It was dawn.

Caleb received a call from his colleague at the police station.

"Captain, Zhang An is still throwing a tantrum, saying that if Rowan isn't dead, he’s going to stab her to death when she gets out."

Zhang An was the blonde man who had tried to murder Rowan.

Caleb rushed to the police station.

In the interrogation room, Caleb looked cold and grim, his chill threatening to pierce through anyone.

"Zhang An, what did Rowan’s father do to make you want to kill her?"

Mentioning this, Zhang An was filled with hatred: "Back then, if her father hadn't taken a bribe from the foreman, leaving my father with nowhere to ask for his wages, why would my sick father have committed suicide in despair?"

"She caused my father's death; doesn't she deserve to die?"

Looking at the man’s breezy attitude, Caleb couldn't help himself and kicked his interrogation chair.

"Zhang An, the one who caused your father's death was her father, and her father is already dead; he has already paid the price."

"You are transferring your hatred and committing intentional homicide."