"What nonsense are you spouting?" Mom's voice rose several octaves as she screamed at Katrina. "Does Joshua think he's some big shot now? Does he think we have to beg to see him or make appointments to meet him now?"

As she spoke, she pulled a thick wad of 100-dollar bills from her expensive Birkin bag and threw them at Katrina.

The bills were scattered all over the ground, with some getting caught on the armrest of her worn-out wheelchair and some landing on her numb, crippled leg.

"Take it," Mom said, looking down at her. "This should be enough for scum like you to live on for a while. Now stop putting on those ridiculous airs and tell him to come out and see me! Who do you think you are now? How long do you expect us to wait?"

Dad added coldly, "Tell him that this is his final chance."

I wanted to rush forward and throw the money back in their faces. I wanted to scream that I was dead. Their son had died a long time ago!

But I couldn't.

After a long while, Katrina picked up the bills from the ground, one by one, with trembling hands covered in chilblains and scars.

Seeing this, Mom's lips curled into a sarcastic smile. "That's right. People like you can only accept your fate. I told him back then that you were only in it for the money. See? I was right all along!"

I looked at Katrina in despair.

"Trina, don't pick them up… Please, don't pick them up…"

But she couldn't hear me.

She picked them up meticulously, making sure she got every single bill even if they were half-submerged in the mud.

After picking up the last one, she clutched the money tightly in her hand until it felt like her nails were digging into her flesh. Then, she glanced up at my parents, who were still looking down condescendingly at her.

"Do you really want to see him?"

The hand clutching the money trembled uncontrollably, her eyes bloodshot.

"You can only see him if you go to hell."

The sarcastic smirk on Mom's face froze at once, and Dad's face turned grim. I floated behind Katrina, watching her straight back, feeling my heart aching for her.

"Bullshit!" Mom yelled, her shock fading quickly and getting replaced by disdain. "How dare he come up with such a ridiculous and stupid lie just to avoid going home for a forced marriage and demand money from me! He's really got some nerve!"

I looked at their faces. They were so certain Katrina was lying, and I found it utterly ridiculous.

But of course, why would they ever believe me or her anyway? After all, they only remembered that they still had another son when they were desperate to find someone to replace Jayson in the forced marriage alliance.

Dad flew into a temper and kicked over Katrina's wheelchair. "Listen here, you brat! Since you refuse to tell the truth, you're going to have to suffer the consequences.

"Tell him that if he doesn't want to come back, then he's never, ever coming back again! And if he dies out there, he can forget about getting buried in the family graveyard at all!"

I floated mid-air, watching Katrina fall to the ground while still clutching the money tightly in her hands. I felt terrible for her. I desperately wanted to rush over and hug her, but my soul simply passed right through her body.

Katrina curled up on the ground, still clutching the stack of 100-dollar bills tightly in her hand. "I have the money now..." she murmured. "I have the money to hire a lawyer for Josh now..."

At that moment, my soul felt like it was being torn to shreds.

Katrina's eyes lit up with hope again. She struggled to her feet and clambered back into her wheelchair.

"I'll find the killer..."

She gripped the wheelchair's axles with difficulty, the rusty bearings creaking and scraping in her hand as she maneuvered it around.

"Stop right there!"

The roar of an engine came from behind, and the car immediately blocked Katrina's path.

Dad rolled down his window, his face as spark as thunder. "Did you think you could just take the money and leave? Hand Joshua over immediately! Otherwise, I'll call the police right now and have you arrested for fraud and extortion! I'll break your other leg too, and make sure you can never walk again!"

Katrina kept a hand strictly over her pocket in which she kept the money, her body tense.

I knew what she was afraid of. This money was her only hope now, and she was willing to forgo her dignity, even her life, just for my sake.

She chuckled bitterly and said hoarsely, "I won't return the money. You'll only regret it if you insist on seeing Joshua."

She then ignored the shouts behind her and forcefully turned her wheelchair around, wheeling herself deeper into the alley.

Mom and Dad exchanged glances with each other before following her with a cold smile on their lips.

"See? I knew that it was all just an act," Mom said, adjusting her expensive fur coat, her face full of disdain. "Come on. I'd love to see just how pathetic he's become, and how long he'll keep trying to hide from us!"

The alley narrowed, with the surface becoming more uneven and filled with potholes.

Mom's high heels clicked against the filthy cobblestones, and her brow furrowed deeper with each step.

This place never saw the sun. The air was thick with the smell of mildew mixed with the stench of the sewers nearby.

"Is this a place fit for humans to live at all?"

Mom covered her mouth and nose tightly with a handkerchief. "Joshua's such an idiot for leaving home to suffer here."

I followed them, looking at the familiar alleyway.

Yes, this indeed wasn't a place fit for humans to live. But this was Katrina's home for three years. Over the years, she had given everything up to find my killer, even having her leg broken because of that.

Finally, Katrina stopped in front of a rickety iron door.

This was the basement of a building about three feet lower than ground level, and it was perpetually cold and damp down there.

"We're here." Katrina's voice was flat.

She laboriously bent down from her wheelchair and pulled a rusty key from under the doormat. The door clicked open, and an even stronger, mustier smell wafted out.

I followed Katrina into the basement.

Mom and Dad took a step back in disgust, as if some plague was lurking inside.

"Joshua! Get out here!"

Dad stood in the doorway, unwilling to step inside. He simply shouted into the void. "Don't tell me that you're still going to act all prude and arrogant when we've already come here to get you ourselves!"

Yet, no one answered. There was only the sound of the wind howling through the empty rooms.

Karina pushed her wheelchair in and didn't turn on the lights. She struck up a match instead. The faint light flickered in the darkness, illuminating her pale face. Then, she lit two white candles on the table.

The candlelight flickered in the dark. The dim yellow light slowly spread, finally illuminating the basement that was less than 100 square feet.

It also illuminated the black-and-white photograph in the center of the room, placed on the table.

I was in the photo, looking bright, happy, and handsome, with two small dimples at the corners of my mouth.

A few white flowers were lying before the portrait.

Mom and Dad, who had still been yelling at me to come out and greet them, suddenly fell silent.

Mom's expression froze, her eyes widening as she stared intently at the black-and-white photograph. Her pupils contracted sharply.

"What… What is the meaning of all this?"