"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.