"Joanne insisted on sending it. She is delicate and willful; if I don't send it, she'll make a scene. You don't have to come."

It was Joanne who wanted to send it. He didn't want to make her unhappy, so he came. It had nothing to do with me.

"Understood," I said.

He stood for a few seconds, showing no intention of leaving, but he said nothing.

"Anything else?" I asked.

"No." He turned, opened the door, and walked out.

The door closed.

I was alone in the office again. I picked up the bright red invitation, opened it, and looked at the two names printed side by side.

Mr. Liam & Ms. Joanne.

Date: April 8th. Location: Linwood Grand Hotel.

I stared at that address. Linwood.

In the city where we once promised to go to the civil affairs bureau, he is going to marry someone else.

My phone vibrated. It was from Su Wanqing.

"Clara, sister is waiting for you in Linwood. If you don't come, I'll come find you."

I didn't reply.

I put the invitation in the drawer, placing it together with that photo from five years ago.

One was the past, one was the future. Two pieces of paper folded together, tucked away in the deepest corner.

Everyone is heading toward the place I loathe most, trying to drag me back with them.

Chapter 6

On the day I handed in my resignation letter, the director looked at me for a long time.

"Have you thought it through?" he asked.

"Yes." I didn't hesitate.

He didn't ask again.

The invitation and the photo were still in my desk drawer; I packed them into my bag and threw everything else away.

Walking out of the hospital gate, I looked back. I came alone three years ago, and I am leaving alone three years later.

The wind was strong, so I didn't linger.

On the plane back to Linwood, I found my seat by the window.

A man was sitting next to me, reading a newspaper.

I put my bag away, sat down, and fastened my seatbelt.

My peripheral vision swept over the person next to me, and my fingers paused.

Liam.

He put down the newspaper and looked at me. "Why are you here? Following me?"

I suddenly felt like laughing. "Back to Linwood. Business trip."

He stiffened for a moment. I greeted him like an old friend, asking, "Where's Joanne?"

He said, "She went back early to prepare. She's worried and wants to handle everything herself."

When he mentioned her, his tone was flat, but within that flatness was something—not coldness, but habit.

He had already grown accustomed to her presence in his life.

The plane took off. The ground outside the window grew more distant; houses turned into matchboxes, and roads into thin threads.

I stared out the window, not daring to look at him. He was sitting right beside me, close enough to touch.

Five years ago, at times like this, he would grip my hand tightly, like he was coaxing a child.

He would say, "You're afraid of heights and get scared on planes; holding me, you won't be afraid."

I was indeed afraid of heights, but I was fine in the cabin. I never exposed him, and every time, I let him hold my hand.

Now, he wouldn't do that.

His hands were resting on his legs, his fingers slender, with no ring.

In my distraction, he spoke first: "Are you going to the wedding?"

I remembered his stinging words and smiled. "You said I don't have to."

He frowned, pressing further, "I'm asking if you will go."

I turned my head and looked at him.

His profile was illuminated by the light outside the window; his jawline was sharp, different from before.

When he used to smile, that area would soften. He hadn't smiled at me in a long time.

I didn't know why he was asking.

He hates me. He should hate me.

He has Joanne—a Joanne who wants to handle everything herself, a Joanne who wouldn't stand him up at the civil affairs bureau.

Then why ask if I'm going? What does he want an old acquaintance to do? Watch him be happy? Or does he want to see me regret it?

Then let's fulfill his wish and let him think I regret it.

Let him think I am there to watch his happiness, let him think I finally learned to cherish what I had but it was too late.

That way he can finally turn the page, gouge the name Clara out of his heart, and go live his life cleanly.

"I will," I said.

Liam looked at me; that gaze was deep, a ripple passing through it for a second.

I didn't understand it, but a mocking smile crossed his lips, as if he had realized something.

He probably thought my "business trip" was an excuse, and that I had come specifically for him.

I didn't explain and closed my eyes, saying nothing more.

When the plane landed in Linwood, I took my luggage and walked out.

Liam walked in front, and I followed behind. We reached the exit, and our paths diverged.

But after walking a few steps, I looked back at his retreating figure.

He was wearing a dark gray coat, dragging his suitcase with one hand and keeping the other in his pocket as he walked toward the parking lot.

His gait hadn't changed—not fast, not slow, his back straight.

I used to walk on his right; he would switch the heavy things to his left hand, leaving his right hand free to hold mine.

Now his right hand is in his pocket. No one needs him to hold their hand anymore.

I turned and walked in the other direction.

Su Wanqing's matter hadn't been resolved yet.

I took a taxi back to the old house and knocked on the door.

Su Wanqing opened it.

Five years later, she had lost a lot of weight and looked older.

The moment she saw me, she smiled—a smile filled with malice, as if I would never escape her grasp.

I didn't call her sister; I just walked straight in.

The room was dark, smelling of cigarette smoke.

She leaned against the door, watching me. "My dear sister, you're finally back. Not a day went by that I didn't think of you."

I only felt a sickening, sticky sensation crawling through my bones.

I turned to look at her. "Don't call me sister. I don't have a sister like you."

Her smile changed; she instinctively fished for a cigarette from the entryway table.

She took a drag, exhaling the smoke with a trace of hatred.

"Don't wear that expression. If it weren't for you, my marriage wouldn't have been ruined."

"I took care of you for so many years, yet you wouldn't even have a child for your brother-in-law, and you even called the police."

"I'm telling you, your brother-in-law is getting out soon. We can let bygones be bygones, as long as you this time..."

Before she could finish, I interrupted her directly.

"I can't have children anymore. That massive hemorrhage damaged my uterus; I can never be pregnant again."

Her fingers paused.

I remained calm. "I came just to tell you that I have another copy of evidence regarding Zhou Cheng's other crimes."

"The day he gets out, I will hand it to the police. The statute of limitations is twenty years, which will send him back in."

For scum like this, I will let him think there is hope in life, and then destroy him all over again.

The cigarette slipped from Su Wanqing’s fingers and fell to the floor.

"You—" Her voice was trembling.

"As for me, I'm going abroad. You will never find me again."

I leaned in closer to her. "But you can't leave. You have a criminal record."

Chapter 7

Her face was hideous, no longer showing any trace of the sister I once knew.

She seemed to want to pounce on me and choke me to death.

The sound of sirens came from downstairs, and she reflexively looked for a place to hide.

I was the one who called the police.

I didn't look at her again and turned to leave.

"You destroyed my life, and I destroyed yours; we’re even."

Su Wanqing wouldn't chase after me.

She feared the police; that was a fear carved into her bones.

A patrol car was parked downstairs, and two officers were smoking and chatting by the roadside.

I had made the call before entering, reporting a noise complaint in the building; that was enough to keep her panicked for a while.

Walking out of the alley, the wind was strong, blowing into my collar, cold enough to make me shiver.

I didn't take a taxi but kept walking along the road. After a while, I found myself standing in front of the civil affairs bureau.

The doors were tightly shut; it was past office hours.