Before my crazy grandmother died, she gave me three walnuts.

According to her last wish, I cracked open the first walnut on my twenty-fifth birthday.

Inside the walnut was a slip of paper.

'Go to the skybridge and grovel at the first beggar you meet' was the instruction written on it.

When I looked at the note, I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment. Still, I did as told. To my surprise, the beggar turned out to be an undercover cop.

Only later did I learn that I had long been targeted by human traffickers, and the bow had saved my life.

As for the second walnut, my grandmother told me to crack it open before I got married.

When I put on my wedding dress, ready to marry the policeman who saved me, I happily opened it.

This time, there was a crumpled old photograph inside.

In the photo, my fiancé was smiling as he strangled another bride.

The Beginning

In the photo, Evan, whom I had loved for three years, had a bright yet cruel smile plastered on his face. His hands were clamped tightly around the neck of the bride. The bride's wedding dress was exactly the same as the one I was wearing now.

In that split second, my mind went blank.

The walnut shell in my hand slipped to the floor with a crisp crack.

At that very moment, the dressing room door swung open. Sunny, who was my bridesmaid and my best friend, called out in excitement, "Lena, it's time! Evan is already waiting for you outside. Come on!"

I looked at her, then at myself in the mirror, draped in pure white. Then, my stomach churned violently.

That photo was like a key, unlocking the memories I had buried deep.

Before my grandmother passed away, she had held my hand tightly, her eyes filled with a strange, unwavering clarity.

"Lena, I'm old now, so I can't protect you anymore. You have three deadly trials in your life, each more dangerous than the last. Every one of them could kill you. These three walnuts are the chances I traded half my life for.

"Remember to open each one only at the moment I told you."

I didn't have my parents beside me when growing up. It was my grandmother who raised me by picking up trash.

People in the village called her a lunatic, but I knew she was the only person in the world who truly loved me. So, I carved her warning into my bones.

On my twenty-fifth birthday, I cracked open the first walnut.

'Go to the skybridge and grovel at the first beggar you meet.'

The words were absurd and humiliating, but I went anyway.

The beggar beneath the bridge was filthy. When I groveled at him for the third time, he suddenly lunged toward me and pinned me underneath him.

And that very moment saved my life.

Behind me, an iron hook shot out from the window of a runaway van speeding past.

In the next second, countless officers rushed in from all directions. Then, the beggar pulled out his badge and shouted, "Freeze! Police!"

He was Evan Cole.

It was a criminal gang masquerading as recruiters, specializing in abducting female college students, and I had been their next target for months.

Had Evan not thrown himself over me, I would have been hooked into that van and disappeared without a trace.

At the trial, I appeared as the key witness.

The ringleader was sentenced to death. His wife glared at me with hatred.

Then, she shrieked, her voice sharp and piercing.

"Lena Hart! I'll remember you! You destroyed my family! My son and I will never let you go! You'll never have peace for the rest of your life!"

Her curses coiled around me like a cold, damp serpent for three whole years.

…

On the other hand, Evan was promoted from an officer straight into the city's major crimes unit. His future was bright and limitless.

He became my hero. My light.

Naturally, we ended up together.

However, the photo had now shattered every bit of happiness I had ever imagined.

I stripped off my wedding dress with trembling hands and changed into my clothes. Then, I slipped out through the back door of the dressing room and fled in disgrace.

I didn't dare to question him or make a peep.

The smile in that photograph was too real. Real enough to terrify me.

I ran from the city and erased all traces of myself.

However, I didn't lose hope. After all, Grandma had left me with one last walnut.

As long as I had it, I believed I could survive.

…

I met Shane in a small city in the south.

He was the curator of a renowned local art museum. He was five years older than me, and was a gentle and elegant man.

He fell for me at first sight and pursued me with fierce persistence.

The first time I visited his home, I felt the vast distance between our worlds.

He lived in a standalone villa halfway up the mountain. Every painting on the wall was worth a fortune. His family, especially his graceful, aristocratic sister, looked down on me with contempt.

The Final Walnut

"Shane, you're good at everything. However, your heart is too soft since you love bringing pitiful animals back home."

I felt ashamed when I heard her words. So, I suggested that we break up.

However, a dog darted out onto the road out of nowhere when Shane chased after me, causing him to swerve the car and end up rolling down the mountainside.

I was a sobbing mess outside the ER.

The anesthesia hadn't worn off when he was finally wheeled out. Yet, he clung to my hand with all his strength, murmuring my name over and over, "Lena… Don't go… What's the point of me living if you are not here?"

My resolve faltered when I heard him.

His family stopped opposing us as well.

…

Under his meticulous care, I slowly walked out of the shadows of my past.

For the first time, I felt a sense of peace and happiness I had never known. I even felt that maybe this was the life Grandma had hoped for me all along.

I hesitated for a long time before deciding whether to open the final walnut.

…

On our first anniversary, Shane booked the most expensive restaurant in the city and proposed to me.

As I watched him go on one knee, diamond ring in hand, eyes full of love, I felt like I was the happiest woman in the world.

So, I said yes.

When I was giddy with happiness, I finally gathered the courage to crack open the last walnut.

I had imagined countless possibilities—perhaps a blessing, or a message telling me all my trials were over.

However, it was none of those.

Inside was only a slip of paper, the handwriting messy, as if written using one's last breath. 'Shatter every mirror in your house!'

I froze on the spot, confused as to what it was supposed to mean.

Our home was basically a miniature art gallery. Shane loved modern art with mirrored elements. There were at least a dozen mirrors scattered throughout the house, each worth a fortune, bought from auctions around the world.

Yet, I was supposed to smash them?

For the first time, Grandma's instructions felt absurd to me.

Just then, his call came through, his gentle voice flowing from the speaker.

"Lena, are you asleep? I just arrived in another city. There's an urgent art exchange event, and I might need about four days before I can come back.

"I forgot to tell you that I had prepared a gift for you for our anniversary. It's behind the dressing mirror in our bedroom. Go take a look."

My heart was a mess after I hung up.

Grandma's warning and Shane's gentleness crashed violently against each other.

I walked to the giant floor-length dressing mirror. In it, my reflection looked pale, frightened.

These three years, Shane had cared for me so thoroughly that I had grown dependent on him. My last relationship had been full of betrayal and terror.

It was Shane who pulled me out of the dark and gave me a home. So, how could I destroy the thing he cherished most because of a senseless warning?

Soon, messages from him came in again.

'Did you find it? Do you like it?'

'Lena, why aren't you replying?'

'Are you still upset that I had to leave suddenly? I'm sorry, it's my fault. I'll come back as soon as I finish here.'

'Believe me, Lena. No one in this world loves you more than I do.'

Shame consumed me as I continued to read those messages.

'How could I even think of doubting him?' I thought.

Then, I took a deep breath and threw the walnut and the note into the trash. I decided to forget the whole thing.

However, I saw a dark silhouette standing right behind me in the mirror from the corner of my eye as I turned. I whipped around but saw nothing.

Still, that barely-there moment was enough to make me break out in cold sweat.

'Was it just a hallucination?' My heart thumped wildly as I looked at the mirror again.

In it, my reflection had a twisted and eerie grin on its face. Its lips forming three silent words—"Smash. It. Now."

A scream tore out of me as I collapsed to the floor. 'No! This isn't an illusion! Grandma never gets things wrong!'

I scrambled to my feet, grabbed a nearby chair, and hurled it at the dressing mirror with every ounce of strength in my body.

The glass shattered instantly, and its shards scattered across the floor.

Behind the mirror, there was no gift.

It was a one-way mirror.

Behind it was a sealed room no larger than five square meters. Inside, there was a man tied to a chair. His mouth was stuffed with cloth, while his body was covered in blood. He had long stopped breathing.

His eyes were wide open, staring straight in my direction, frozen in pure, unfiltered terror.

Her Last Warning

My legs buckled, and I collapsed on the floor.

My stomach twisted violently, and I threw up until everything went black around the edges.

I crawled out of the bedroom and somehow managed to call the police, fingers trembling so hard I could barely hold my phone.

Terror squeezed my chest until I could barely form a sentence.

"H-Hello... 911? Someone's been killed... There's a dead body... in my house..."

The operator kept me calm, asked for my address, and stayed on the line.

Sirens grew louder, rushing toward my house.

Local officers arrived first.

One look inside that hidden room turned their faces white.

They sealed the scene instantly and called it up the chain.

…

Minutes later, a team of detectives in black uniforms filed in—all sharp eyes and tight jaws.

Leading them was the man I spent three years running from. My waking nightmare—Evan Cole.

He stopped cold when he saw me, just for a split second. Then, his expression clicked back to businesslike and unreadable.

"Lena Hart?"

I nodded, my lips trembling too hard to speak.

Of all the ways I imagined we might cross paths again, this was never one of them. Terrifying. Wrong. Cruel, almost.

I ran out on our wedding three years ago.

I wouldn't blame him if he hated me.

A female officer stepped up, draped a coat over me, and handed me a cup of warm water. "It's okay. We're here now. You're safe."

Not long after, Sunny Lane came running in—Shane's "best friend" and my closest friend in the city.

She threw her arms around me, sobbing.

"Lena! Oh my god, are you okay? I was scared out of my mind! What happened in here?"

"I couldn't reach Shane either. He loves you so much... How could something like this happen in your home?"

I leaned into her, still shaking uncontrollably.

Sunny was the only person I trusted here. She taught yoga, radiated warmth, and lit up every room she walked into.

She held me together when I was at my lowest.

She was the one who kept insisting Shane was good for me.

I clutched her hand like it was the only solid thing left in my world. "Sunny... I'm so scared..."

Evan's gaze swept over us, landing on me with a cool detachment that felt like a slap. "Lena Hart, you need to come back to the station with us to make a full statement."

"She's the victim! You can't just drag her in!" Sunny snapped, stepping in front of me.

"It's procedure." He didn't flinch.

They put me in the patrol car, but Sunny insisted on coming with me.

…

They put me in an interrogation room once we got to the precinct.

Evan questioned me himself. "Start from the beginning. The hidden room. The body. All of it."

I told him everything—the old walnut from Grandma, the mirror, and the impossible things I saw.

The officer taking notes froze, staring at me as if I were delusional.

Evan sat quietly for a long moment, fingers tapping the table. "So, you believe your 'grandmother' somehow guided you to all this?"

"I know it sounds insane, but it happened. Every word of it!" I blurted.

He didn't argue.

He just shifted gears.

"Where exactly is Shane Miller?"

"He said he went out of town for a conference."

"What conference? Where?"

I shook my head.

That was the moment I realized that I knew nothing about his schedule at all.

The questioning came to a halt.

They moved me to a small lounge.

Sunny came in with food, her eyes swollen from crying. "Lena, don't panic. I already called an amazing lawyer. Besides, I finally got in contact with Shane—he's rushing back. He said he'll fix everything."

She popped open the container. It was from my favorite mom-and-pop place.

She pressed the fork into my hand. "You haven't eaten all day. Just try."

I forced myself to pick them up.

…

Across the room, Evan's phone buzzed.

He checked his phone, and his expression dropped in an instant.

Slowly, he lifted his eyes and locked onto Sunny. That stare cut like a blade.

The next second, my phone buzzed.

The screen glowed, revealing his message. 'Trafficking boss' son. Gender reassignment in Solhara Isles last year. New name: Sunny Lane.'