Alex pressed on the pocket containing the money, his body tense. I knew what he was afraid of. Now, this money was his only hope. For my sake, he could lose his dignity and even his life.

He gave a bitter laugh, his voice hoarse. "I won't return the money. Since you want to see her, don't regret it later."

After saying that, he ignored the shouts behind him and forcefully turned the wheelchair, wheeling himself deeper into the alley.

My parents exchanged a glance, sneered, and followed him.

Mom tidied up the expensive fur coat, her face full of disdain. "I knew it was just an act. Come on, I want to see just how miserable she's become and how long she plans to keep hiding!"

The alley became narrower as the road became uneven. Mom's high heels stepped on the dirty cobblestones. With each step, she frowned even harder. This place never got sunlight, and the air was filled with a musty smell mixed with the sewer stench.

"How could anyone live here?" Mom tightly covered her mouth and nose with that white handkerchief, muffling her voice. "Naomi asked for it. Instead of staying at the family villa, she insists on suffering here instead."

I followed them and looked at the familiar alley. Yeah, this place was unbearable, but this had been Alex's home for three years. Over the years, he had given everything to find my killer, even having his leg broken.

Finally, Alex stopped in front of a rickety iron door. This was the basement, a foot and a half lower than ground level. It was damp and cold all year round.

"We're here," Alex said flatly. He laboriously bent down from his wheelchair and pulled a rusty key from under the doormat. The door opened. An even stronger musty smell wafted out, and I followed Alex into the house.

My parents took a half-step back in disgust, as if some plague lurked inside.

"Naomi! Get out!" Dad stood in the doorway, unwilling to step inside. He only shouted, "We're here. How long are you going to keep up this act?"

No one answered. Only the wind howled through the empty unit.

Alex wheeled the wheelchair and did not turn on the light, but he skillfully struck a match. The faint light flickered in the darkness, illuminating his ghastly pale face.

He lit two white candles on the table. The candlelight flickered, and the dim yellow light slowly spread, finally illuminating the less than 100-square-foot basement room and the black-and-white photograph placed on the table.

In the photograph, I had my hair in a ponytail, smiling with my eyes crinkling and two shallow dimples showing. Before the portrait lay several shriveled apples.

My parents, who had been yelling to make me come out, fell silent.

Mom's expression of disgust froze. Her eyes widened as she stared at the black-and-white photograph, her pupils contracting sharply. "What... What's the meaning of this?"

"Alex! Have you gone mad?" Dad's fury exploded. He rushed into the house in a few steps and pointed at the photo with trembling fingers. "How dare you put such a thing on display just to scam us out of our money? Where's Naomi? Tell her to come out! Don't hide and play tricks!"

He looked around while yelling, trying to find me. However, the place was small; it was so small that you could see everything at a glance.

Apart from Alex and that glaring old photo, there was no sign of any other living person.

Alex calmly watched them go nuts. The candlelight flickered in his eyes, which were just filled with gloom.

"She's not hiding." Alex raised his hand and gently stroked the cold frame of the photo. His movement was so gentle as if he were touching his lover's cheek. "She's right here. She's been waiting for you for three years."

Dad's yelling echoed in the small basement, making the flames of the two wax candles flicker wildly. "How dare you continue to pretend?"

He angrily rushed forward and swung his hand toward the table. The shriveled apples rolled to the corner, covered in dust.

I wanted to reach out and pick up the apples, but it was in vain.

"Alex, do you think we're fools?" Dad pointed at Alex's nose, almost spitting onto his face. "She was alive and kicking three years ago when she left, and now, you display a photo of her and say she's dead? Huh?"

Mom also snapped out of her daze, her initial shock turning to utter disgust. She avoided the porcelain shards on the floor. She looked like she was looking at filth. "I knew it! I knew that ingrate Naomi had no good intentions!"

She clutched her chest with a handkerchief, looking furious. "To avoid coming home and to make us feel guilty, she actually conspired with outsiders to stage a pity act! You photoshopped this photo, didn't you? Only a lowlife like you would come up with such a despicable scheme!"

I floated in the air, looking at the mess on the floor. My heart felt like it was being shattered. That was the offering Alex had saved up for days to buy for me. That was the photo he wiped clean countless times every day.

Now, my own father had swept it to the ground like trash.

Alex was calm. His expression did not even change. He simply bent over, silently picked up the apple that had rolled to the side of the wheelchair, gently wiped the dust off with his sleeve, and then placed it back on the table.

His movements were frighteningly slow.

"You don't believe me?" He looked up, his gaze falling on Dad's face that was flushed with anger before shifting to Mom's disdain-filled eyes.

"Do you believe this, then?" Alex wheeled himself out of his wheelchair and pulled a document from a drawer.

I recognized it as the autopsy report from back then. Mom picked up the document with disgust, but her expression changed drastically after opening it.