At seven o'clock, the sky had already darkened, and the electric cars passing by were turning on their headlights.

She had made several calls, but no one answered. Edith had resolved in her mind that if Earl came home tonight, she wouldn’t give him an easy time. It would take at least an hour of coaxing before they could make amends.

By eight o'clock, the darkness had fully settled in, and even the vendors had closed their stalls for the night.

The dishes on the table had been reheated twice, only to cool again. The cake had collapsed slightly, and Edith carefully picked it up, placing it gently in the refrigerator.

Anxiety began to creep into her thoughts. Earl had never broken a promise to her before. He hadn’t replied to her messages, couldn’t be reached by phone, and now darkness had enveloped the house. Was something wrong? Had something happened—maybe a car accident?

Edith’s heart pounded, and with every guess, her anxiety grew. She kept calling Earl, only to be met with silence.

When Earl was unreachable, she couldn’t contact anyone close to him either. Her mind raced, and she was frantically moving about the room like a headless fly.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

It was an Fedex delivery man, holding a large, beautifully packaged box.

“Mr. Earl’s house, right? You’ve got a package. Please sign for it.”

Relief washed over Edith, and a small smile formed as she signed her name, writing “Edith” neatly on the line.

She felt a spark of excitement. It had to be her birthday gift, right? Earl hadn’t responded to her messages, so maybe this was his way of making it up—surprising her with fireworks, ribbons, balloons, and flowers.

Suppressing her joy, Edith opened the package carefully.

Inside was a set of high-end anti-aging skincare products. At twenty years old, she had officially entered adulthood, and it was time to transition her skincare to a more mature line.

Edith examined the products happily, ready to use them that night. She thought, despite her anger, that Earl’s thoughtfulness was something worth appreciating.

At the bottom of the box, however, was a branded greeting card. Edith hummed softly as she unwrapped it, exciting building.

But the moment she saw the printed words, her heart stopped.

The words were clear:

Dear Edith.

Not Edith.

This was meant for Edith.

Not for her.

Edith’s hands trembled—not from excitement, but from fury and pain.

She threw the gift box down with force. The glass bottles shattered into pieces, and the essence spilled onto the floor.

“This is your last chance, Earl,” she whispered to herself, staring at the mess. “If you come back with a cake and a gift, I might forgive you for this.”

Edith leaned back against the door, watching the clock silently tick toward midnight.

Outside, the house was silent.

At one o'clock in the morning, a loud knock echoed through the stillness.

“Edith! Open the door!”

No response came from inside.

The voice grew anxious, desperate. “Edith? Speak to me!”

Footsteps retreated—Earl must have gone to the property management office for a spare key.

A loud thud echoed as the door was opened forcefully. Edith, sitting behind the door, was flung to the ground, her body colliding with shattered skincare products.

Earl’s face was red and dry, his eyes filled with worry.

Behind Edith, a candle had long since burned out, and a table laden with cold, forgotten food sat untouched.

Anyone who saw the scene would know—this was a birthday that had been carefully prepared, but no one had cared to show up.

Edith's gaze shifted downward.

Earl stood in front of her empty-handed.

He hadn’t brought anything back.

The anger that had briefly flared in her eyes faded just as quickly.

Earl's mouth opened and closed, fumbling for words, but none came.

At that moment, everything became painfully clear.

Earl had forgotten her birthday.

Edith stood up, her emotions unraveled.

"You promised to come home early," she said, breaking free from his grasp. "I waited for you all day."

"I thought something had happened—maybe a car accident. I almost called the police."

"But then I realized," her tears finally fell, "I couldn’t even reach anyone close to you."

The tall man before her stood in silence, his expression lost and helpless.

"Edith…"

Her voice was steady, though her heart trembled.

"Earl," she said again, "you made me a person who only has you in the world."

"You can love anyone else, but you’ve taken away the possibility of me loving anyone else."

"If you can’t love me, don’t give me the hope of being with you."

"You’ve indulged me. And now, what’s the difference between me and the dogs you raise?"

"Dogs aren’t allowed to touch other people’s food, and I’m not allowed to engage with others."

"If you’re happy, you can promise to be with me forever, and when you feel like it, you can find me a new mother."

Earl was silent, struggling to respond.

"Edith, it’s not like that."

"You can call me—"

His words faltered, weak and empty.

Edith sniffled, wiping her tears.

"Where did you go last night?"

She shook her phone in his direction, a bitter smile forming on her lips.

"Look at your phone. Instagram notifications—are there at least five hundred messages from me?"

Earl hesitated, pulling out his phone. He stared at the screen, filled with her messages, and realized it had been on silent mode.

His face twisted in frustration.

Edith asked again, voice steady.

"Where did you go last night?"

Earl poked his cheek with the tip of his tongue—a habit he always resorted to when uncertain.

Edith swiftly snatched the phone from his hand.

Her facial recognition unlocked the device, revealing the messages she had sent.

Edith Baby: What a happy evening!

Edith Baby: Hahahaha, let’s go to this bar together next time. The atmosphere is amazing.

Edith Baby: Let’s ask Edith to come along. She’s an adult now. Seeing more of the world will help her avoid being easily deceived.

Earl: It’s not safe to let her go.

Edith raised an eyebrow, looking directly at him. Her gaze was sharp, cutting through hesitation.

"My birthday," she pointed toward the table behind her, where the dishes sat cold.

She lifted the injured gauze-wrapped hand and showed it to him. "I cooked this for you. You said you’d come home, even if it rained knives from the sky."

A tear slid down her cheek as she smiled bitterly.

"Your knife is to take Edith to a bar?"

With a dismissive gesture, she swiped the phone away and let it fall to the floor.

It landed on the ground, the plastic bear on the phone case cracking upon impact.

That bear had been a gift—a moment they had shared together. Edith had cherished it, proudly displaying it as a symbol of their bond. Now, it lay broken at its feet.

Now broken into two sections:

A series of questions left Earl visibly irritated.

"Edith, is it wrong for your boyfriend to want to pin something to the top?"

"I didn’t spend your birthday with you. Is it really necessary to make a scene in the middle of the night, blocking me at the door like this?!"

"Edith! You’re nineteen, not nine!"

His voice was sharp and impatient.

As soon as the words left his mouth, he noticed Edith’s face pale, and he immediately regretted his harsh tone. Still, his pride wouldn’t allow him to soften his stance.

Edith spoke quietly, as if to herself.

"When I was in high school, it was popular to pin close friends. Back then, you saw there were two other people in my pinned photos besides you, and you were furious—just because one of my male best friends was in there."

"You said no one except you should be in my pinned photos."

"And then they broke up with me, claiming I didn’t value them as friends."

"It didn’t bother me much, because you’re the most important to me."

Edith’s slender back trembled slightly.

"Now tell me, what’s wrong with having only Edith in your pinned photos?"

"Earl, are you being hypocritical?"

Earl’s eyes burned with suppressed anger.

He had drunk too much that night, and his mood and pressure reached their lowest point.

"Do whatever you want," he said with a sigh, brushing past Edith to retreat into the bedroom.

This birthday was unlike any other. It was the worst Edith had ever experienced—worse than when her father left.

Edith lay on the bed, her tears soaking into her arms as she reached for her mother’s diary.

"Edith is like a spring breeze. Her arrival comforted both me and her father… Before this, we never imagined such a possibility for happiness in life."

"She turns three today. We hope she will always be happy, a kind and bright little girl with the best things in the world and plenty of love."

"We wish so much love would support her throughout her life, even if one day we are gone. We want her to live bravely and powerfully in this world."

The breeze drifted through the window, stirring the familiar pages of the diary, soft words blurred by tears like a story lost in a nightmare.

"... Edith, don’t look back. Mom will always love you."

Mom, Edith can’t look back.

Mom, don’t be disappointed in me.

The parents who loved her more than anything in the world hoped she would grow up under the sun, but Edith felt herself sinking deeper into endless darkness.

Everyone knew the delicate, fragile flower growing in Earl’s home—cold, fragile, and moving.

Edith, who had been raised with tender care, was the first fragile snowflake of winter.

No, Earl, Edith isn’t a snowflake.

Her back was thin, as fragile as a piece of paper.

Determined, Edith began looking at houses near her school.

She decided it was time to move out—Earl would understand who truly needed whom.

After the birthday, Earl and Edith fell into a strained silence.

Coincidentally, the company had another overseas project, and Earl left with a cold expression and a suitcase in hand.

In those two weeks, Edith opened Earl’s chat countless times, watching the "typing…" indicator flash repeatedly.

Yet no message was ever sent.

Finally, Edith found a small rental near her school, packed up her things, and moved in.

When Earl found her at the rental house, he was met with the sight of another man—a young man named Bobby Burton, who was carefully setting down a box of books, sweat dripping down his face. His handsome smile caught in the sunlight, a shy, gentle expression in contrast to Earl’s stormy mood.