"Is it because of my dad?"I finally asked, "Did he take the fall for the White family?"

Ryan's expression changed suddenly.

"Yes, but it was your father's choice. I know it's hard to believe," Ryan said, instructing someone to bring a box down from upstairs.

I took the box and opened it with trembling hands. Inside was a handwritten letter from my father. It was his confession.

He chose this path willingly. The Smith family was already failing, with too much debt to cover. He used his life to secure a future for the Smith family. He expressed his concern for me, asked the White family to treat me well, and said he knew I liked Grayson. He hoped the White family would keep their word.

As I looked at the familiar handwriting, I thought of the happy times when the three of us were together.

But after I started middle school, my parents' relationship changed. They often argued, sometimes even breaking things at home.

In front of me, they pretended to be loving.

Their relationship had long been broken. I talked with my mom back then and knew she had someone else. I could accept their divorce.

In this era, there's no need to stay together for the sake of the children.

But my mom sneered and said I didn't understand. She couldn't be happy in this circle.

After that, my mom rarely saw me. Instead, Grayson's mom often bought me gifts and took me out.

"I respect your choice," Ryan sighed. "This matter couldn't be hidden forever. If you want to overturn the case, I can help you."

Maybe Ryan felt guilty about Emily's death. I told him I wanted to see my father.

"Alright, I'll arrange it."

I got to see my father, but he refused to revisit the old case. He said I didn't need to worry about it.

"I did it willingly. Don't come to see me anymore. Our bond ends here."

My father kept his back to me. I couldn't understand what he wanted, or how he could be so heartless.

"I don't need you to use your life to pave the way for me, Dad. I really don't. I haven't liked Grayson for a long time... I..."

I didn't want to live alone and miserable. I wanted my own family. But my family had been broken since middle school.

My father said coldly, "It wasn't for you. Don't feel guilty. I did it for myself."

I didn't know how I left that day. The glaring sunlight shone on me as I walked.

Emily was gone, and so was my little family.

My parents were estranged from me. My family was shattered.

I walked down the street like a puppet, when suddenly there was a screech of brakes. Grayson pulled me to safety.

His eyes were red, "Are you okay?"

I had nearly been hit by a car. Grayson held me tightly and said he was scared to death. He told me it was better not to go out for a while because my mental state was too unstable.

I struggled to speak, telling Grayson, "I didn't deliberately hide your mother's death from you."

Tears fell from my eyes, and Grayson froze for a moment. He gently wiped away my tears and spoke softly.

"I know, I don't blame you."

Grayson was like me. His family was also broken. But he was luckier than me. The White family hadn't gone bankrupt, and his grandfather was still alive.

"Be good, let's not talk about that," Grayson said, taking me home. He apologized, "Mila has been threatening me with this, that's why I..."

He said there was nothing between him and Mila.

That child wasn't his either. Back in school, he just wanted to see if I, the blockhead, would get jealous.

"..."

Just to see if I'd get jealous, he deliberately kept close with Mila, letting the rumors spread.

They believed Grayson and Mila were a perfect match and treated me as the third party. Some even blocked me on the rooftop after school to stand up for Mila.

They were many and physically assaulted me, even stripping me to humiliate me.

Even though I fought back later, because of Grayson's attitude, my high school years were still marked with disgrace.

"You could have told me, Grayson."

My body trembled uncontrollably, those memories were unbearable. Grayson reached out to hug me, gently stroking my back.

"I was afraid you'd despise me if you knew about Uncle Smith. Just like back then, you turned away and ignored me."

Grayson was referring to the time when rumors were rampant, and I avoided being with him.

"I've been used to you following me since we were kids. I always knew I'd marry you when I grew up. My mom..." Grayson paused, opening his mouth but not continuing.

I was very tired. I leaned on the sofa and did nothing. I fell asleep.

In my dream, I was back to my childhood. Grayson and I were neighbors, and we were close. I often sat by my window, secretly talking to Grayson through his.

He would gently tell me bedtime stories, coax me to sleep early, and buy me many little gifts.

Violet, Violet...

I was awakened by the sound of Grayson's low breathing in my ear.

I saw Grayson busy in the kitchen. He was a good cook and quickly prepared a sumptuous meal, but the smell made me want to vomit.

I missed Emily. If she were here, she would have hugged me. Emily had always been very sensible, and everyone said she was emotionally intelligent for her age.

But behind her sensibility was a father who didn't love her. She carefully tried to win Grayson's affection.

"You don't need to go to all this trouble. I won't eat, and there's no need to be kind to me. Even if there's nothing between you and Mila, it's impossible for us."

"I know I haven't treated you well, nor Emily. Give me a chance to make it right, please?"

Grayson said he just didn't know how to express his feelings. It was his first time being a father, and when he saw Emily, so small, he wanted to hold her.

He wanted to comfort Emily, but every time he reached out, his body would stiffen.

"I couldn't face Emily, and I couldn't face you."

"Ridiculous." I laughed in anger. It was clearly their fault, yet my Emily had to bear it all.

What did Emily do to deserve being born into my womb, to endure Grayson's cold violence? From the moment she was born, I knew she had congenital heart disease.

I watched over her carefully, afraid this time bomb would explode. My carefully nurtured little flower still wilted in the end.

"Grayson, you don't understand my pain, and you don't deserve Emily's goodness."

"The unopened gifts are all in Emily's little room. Grayson, if you still have a heart, accept her kindness."

I didn't really want to give them to Grayson, but I wanted him to feel guilty. How could someone like him deserve an angel like Emily?

Grayson's body stiffened. He gently coaxed me, "Eat something first. You can't keep not eating or drinking."

"I don't need you to worry about me. I won't seek death. Emily said I need to be strong. I will live on in her place."

Grayson sighed deeply and went to that room.

Grayson didn't like pink, and he made it very obvious. Emily deliberately avoided these colors when choosing wrapping boxes for him.

Every year for birthdays and holidays, Emily prepared gifts.

She had drawn a family portrait by hand, with crooked writing beside it, wishing for family peace and happiness.

There were also beaded chains she made herself, beautifully colored, custom-made for both of us for Valentine's Day. I had one too.

As Grayson looked at them, he started crying, tears streaming down his cheeks. He said he truly deserved to die.

"I'm sorry, Emily."

Emily was gone, and Grayson held onto those gifts tightly, expressing his guilt toward her.

I didn't want to see his repentance. I just wanted Grayson to live in guilt. Why should I be the only one suffering?

"I really deserve to die..."

Yes, you really do deserve it.

But what's the point of saying all these useless words now, Grayson? There are no regrets in life. Whether for you or the White family, we won't meet again in the future.

As expected, Grayson quieted down a lot after that and didn't appear in my sight anymore.

I took over an art gallery. Emily loved painting and was very talented. We had a lot of her paintings stored at home.

She once told me, "Mommy, when I grow up, I want to have an art exhibition. I want others to see the world as I see it."

She wanted to donate all the money earned from the exhibition to blind children. Emily said they couldn't experience the colors of the world and were already very unfortunate.

She loved the brilliance of this world. As I looked at her paintings, tears welled up in my eyes again. It was a pity that now even Emily couldn't see the colors of this world anymore.

There was originally some trouble with the exhibition venue. I had agreed on a time with someone, but they suddenly backed out and gave it to me.