When Celia saw the items on the floor, her heart skipped a beat.

She had hidden them so carefully—how had Lucas found them?

For a moment, panic flickered across her face. It took her a moment to collect herself before she stammered, “Tomorrow is the anniversary of my parents’ passing. I bought these as a way to honor their memory.”

Hearing her response, Lucas hesitated, the odd tension in his chest easing slightly. After a moment, he said, “I’ll go with you to visit them tomorrow.”

“There’s no need, Uncle,” she replied quickly, shaking her head. “You should focus on spending time with Yvonne and handling work. I’ve caused you enough trouble in the past. I won’t be a burden to you anymore.”

Lucas had been prepared for her to accept his offer with gratitude, but her unexpected refusal left him stunned. Shock flickered in his eyes as Celia turned and left without giving him a chance to respond.

Once back in her room, she silently tore another page from the calendar, shredding the piece into tiny fragments and tossing them into the trash.

Only four days left.

As Lucas watched her retreating figure, her words echoed in his mind. Before he could stop himself, he murmured, “You were never a burden to me, Celia.”

His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, and by the time he spoke, Celia was already in her room, unable to hear his words.

On the fourth day of her countdown, Celia visited her parents’ grave alone. She walked to their headstone, gently placing a bouquet of flowers in front of it. Her gaze lingered on their photographs engraved on the stone—familiar, gentle smiles that seemed frozen in time.

Sitting down between the two graves, she let herself imagine she was once again nestled between them, just as she had been as a child.

“Mom, Dad,” she began softly, “I don’t know if you’ve already reincarnated by now. Please don’t be angry at me for being selfish—trading my soul for seven days just to settle things.

“For so long, I envied others for having parents who loved them, but not anymore. I had Uncle Lucas. He cared for me, protected me, and gave me all the love in the world. And I—I fell in love with him, despite everything.

“But now, I see that my existence has only ever been a burden to him. He’ll have a new family someday, and I’ll always be the outsider. From the beginning to the end, I am destined to be alone.

“Life here... it’s not so good. I’ve decided that I won’t come back in my next life. I don’t regret my choice, but it’s a little sad. I never got to experience what it’s like to truly be loved before I died.”

Celia stayed at the cemetery, talking to her parents for a long time. When she finally finished, she didn’t leave immediately. Instead, she found the cemetery’s caretaker.

After some discussion, Celia made arrangements to purchase a burial plot beside her parents’ graves. This way, she thought, when the time came, she’d have a place to belong, one close to them.

After leaving the cemetery, Celia sold off her parents’ inheritance and every gift Lucas had ever given her, converting it all into a significant sum of money.

This money, she decided, would go back to Lucas as repayment for the ten years he had spent raising her.

Celia transferred all the funds into a single bank card and returned to the villa late that evening. Lucas wasn’t home, which worked perfectly for her plan.

Quietly, she slipped into his study, hiding the card in one of the desk drawers. Just as she was about to leave, her gaze fell on the disarray in the room—likely left behind from his rush to finish work.

With a sigh, she decided to tidy up the space. She carefully organized the scattered documents, but as she worked, her hand accidentally tugged open one of the drawers.

She was about to close it again when something inside caught her eye, freezing her in place.

Inside the drawer was a thick stack of letters. Love letters.

Celia’s breath hitched as she stared at them in disbelief. Without thinking, she reached out and picked them up, a mix of curiosity and astonishment flooding her mind.

Could Lucas have written these?

Lucas... writing love letters?

To whom?

Questions swirled chaotically in her head, tangling her thoughts. Lost in her confusion, she didn’t hear the sound of footsteps until it was too late.

Lucas had returned and now stood at the doorway. His sharp eyes immediately landed on the letters in her hands, and his expression shifted dramatically.

“What are you doing going through my things?” he demanded, his voice cold and laced with a rare tremor of panic.

Hearing Lucas’ sharp question, Celia snapped back to reality.

Noticing the love letters still in her hands, she quickly placed them back into the drawer and mumbled an explanation. “I was just trying to tidy up for you…”

But her attempt to explain didn’t soften his mood.

Instead, his tone grew colder. “Did you look at the contents?”

Celia froze, surprised that this was what he cared about most. Seeing his expression darken further, she quickly shook her head. “No, I didn’t read them.”

Her answer seemed to ease his tension slightly, but when he spoke again, his voice was still edged with irritation.

“Leave. And don’t touch my things again without my permission.”

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,” she murmured, lowering her head. Without another word, she turned and left the study.

Back in her room, Celia lay on her bed, but her mind kept drifting back to the letters she had seen in the study.

She couldn’t recall ever hearing about Lucas being interested in someone. As far as she could remember, there had never been another woman in his life apart from herself and Yvonne.

So, who were those letters for?

Could they have been for her?

The thought sent her mind spiraling until exhaustion finally pulled her into sleep.

When she woke again, it was the middle of the night. A faint sound from the next room stirred her, and she realized Yvonne had returned.

Instantly alert, Celia moved closer to her door. The proximity allowed her to hear their conversation clearly, especially since they hadn’t shut their door.

Yvonne’s voice came first, brimming with delight. “I was only gone for two days, and you wrote me so many love letters?”

Her excitement was palpable, and it was quickly followed by Lucas’ response, warm and indulgent. His voice carried the same gentle tone he used to reserve for Celia in the past, back before she confessed her feelings to him.

“What? You don’t like them?”

Yvonne laughed softly, planting a kiss on his cheek. “I love them. You’ll have to write me one every day from now on.”

As Yvonne’s final, teasing words fell, the sound of muffled intimacy drifted from the next room, followed by the soft click of a closing door.

Celia quickly stepped away from her own door, retreating back to her bed. Lying down, she shut her eyes, but her face had turned pale.

For a brief moment, she couldn’t help but find herself both pathetic and laughable.

“Celia Quinn, what are you even thinking?” she whispered bitterly.

When she had seen Lucas’ panicked expression earlier, an absurd thought had flashed through her mind—that maybe, just maybe, those love letters were written for her.

But now, after hearing his conversation with Yvonne, she knew just how ridiculous that idea had been.

By the time the countdown reached three days, it was Yvonne’s birthday.

Lucas spared no expense, throwing an extravagant party in her honor. The guest list was long, filled with prominent figures, because this celebration wasn’t just about Yvonne’s birthday.

During the evening, Lucas made another major announcement:

In the near future, he and Yvonne would be hosting their engagement party.

As the crowd swarmed forward with congratulations, Celia stood frozen for a moment, stunned. Did he truly care for Yvonne this much?

In just three short months, he had already decided to marry her.

She let out a bitter laugh, glancing down at the gift in her hands. What she had originally planned as a parting gift for Lucas had, unexpectedly, turned into a congratulatory present for his engagement.

As the line of well-wishers thinned, Celia finally stepped forward, holding the small package out to him. She had resolved long ago to wish him happiness, no matter who he chose to be with.

But now, standing here, forcing those words out felt far more painful than she had imagined.

“Uncle,” she began, her voice low and strained, “congratulations on your engagement... I hope you’ll have a long and happy life together.”

Lucas accepted the gift from her, his expression unreadable.

“You can save your congratulations for the engagement party.”

Engagement party?

But she wouldn’t live to see that day.

Celia lowered her head, silent and unresponsive. She neither explained nor argued, merely handed over the gift before walking away. Finding a quiet corner, she sat down alone.

Lucas didn’t pay much attention as she left. He remained by Yvonne’s side, leading her through the crowd with a gentle smile. He patiently introduced her to every guest offering their congratulations, his demeanor full of warmth and affection.

Before long, after greeting everyone, Lucas and Yvonne disappeared from the crowd altogether.

Celia lingered for a while longer before standing and quietly slipping out of the banquet hall.

She had always disliked these crowded, noisy gatherings. In the past, Lucas would notice her discomfort and quietly lead her away halfway through. Now, that habit hadn’t changed but the person he chose to leave with had.

The area outside the hall was spacious, and Celia recalled there being a garden pavilion nearby. She decided to take a walk there, seeking a moment of solitude.

However, as she approached, she realized the pavilion wasn’t empty.

Drawing closer, she saw Lucas and Yvonne there, speaking softly.

“Lucas,” Yvonne’s voice carried a playful, almost childlike tone. “When we get married, I want my own garden pavilion. Can I have one?”

Her words were met with Lucas’s indulgent chuckle. “Why wait until after we’re married? I’ll have it ready for you now.”

“Really?” Yvonne’s eyes sparkled with delight, her cheeks flushing pink as she leaned in to kiss his cheek.

But Lucas turned his head at the last moment, and her kiss landed unexpectedly on his lips.

The accidental gesture deepened the flush on Yvonne’s face, and she pulled back in a flustered attempt to recover. Before she could retreat, Lucas wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close to deepen the kiss.

From a distance, Celia stood frozen, watching the scene unfold.

Perhaps it was because she was already dead, or perhaps it was because she had steeled herself to wish them happiness.

But no matter how prepared she thought she was, the sight still struck something deep within her.

As Celia watched the scene unfold, the pain she had anticipated didn’t come.

Instead, an unfamiliar sense of calm settled over her.

She didn’t disturb them. Turning away, she left quietly.

She wandered aimlessly through the property, eventually finding herself near the swimming pool.

Celia stood still, gazing blankly at the crystal-clear water, lost in thought.

She didn’t know how much time had passed before a familiar voice broke through her reverie.

“Watching all this must really hurt, doesn’t it?”

She turned to find Yvonne standing behind her.

Celia frowned slightly, confused by her words.

“Lucas told me everything,” Yvonne continued, her tone laced with feigned understanding. “He told me about your... feelings for him. Honestly, I get it. You’re just a young girl, and Lucas is so incredible. It’s normal to have a little crush.”

Her words seemed understanding, but the malice in her eyes betrayed her true feelings. “But it’s also not normal, is it? After all, what kind of child falls for their own uncle?”

Celia hadn’t expected Lucas to share her feelings so openly with Yvonne.

A wave of shame and bitterness washed over her. She didn’t need him to reciprocate her feelings. She had even resolved to bless their future together.

But why did he have to trample on her dignity like this?

She remained silent, refusing to respond, but Yvonne wasn’t done.

Her voice took on a hint of smugness as she added, “Lucas doesn’t like you. Honestly, I don’t have the patience to keep up this whole family charade with you either. Soon, I’ll be marrying into the Shaw family, and I don’t want a clingy child lingering between us.

“If you’re willing to leave, I can give you some money. You’re an adult now. It’s time you learned to be independent.”

Celia’s face turned pale at her words. After a long pause, she finally replied in a hoarse voice, “Don’t worry. I’ll be gone in three days.”

Her concession didn’t soften Yvonne’s attitude.

Instead, it only emboldened her to push further.

“Why wait three days? Why not leave now?”

For a moment, Celia was at a loss for words. How could she explain that three days wasn’t the timeline for leaving the Shaw family—it was the time she had left in this world?