When my parents were on a mission abroad, they tragically died in an accident. Everyone said they had been bribed by the culprit and were traitors within the bureau.

I begged my fiancé, the police chief, to uncover the truth and clear their names. But instead, he proposed to the hostage he had rescued and held a grand wedding of the century.

Driven by cyberbullying, I went up to the rooftop, intending to prove my innocence with my death.

At the critical moment, my fiancé’s older brother, a forensic expert, appeared and held me protectively in his arms.

He resolved all the public backlash for me and swore to clear my parents’ names.

I accepted his proposal and entrusted him with full authority over the murder case. But five years passed and there were still no leads.

Then, on the day I found out I was pregnant, I accidentally overheard a conversation between him and a colleague.

"Martin, back then Jessie's parents clearly had fatal wounds on their bodies. They didn't die from falling. Why did you stop investigating? Don't forget, you're a forensic expert. Your duty is to speak for the dead and uncover the truth! Can you really live with yourself after this?"

"Rachel was the only one at the crime scene and her fingerprints were found on the dagger. Why did you agree to let your brother marry her? You clearly knew Rachel wasn't a hostage!"

"Enough! I told you, Rachel is innocent. She took the knife to protect herself. She had nothing to do with Jessie's parents' deaths. I believe her."

In that instant, all the blood in my body turned cold.

It turned out that my parents' deaths were never an unsolved case. And my husband, the man I saw as my salvation, had been hiding the truth for her, for five whole years.

This marriage was no longer worth holding on to.

——

"You’re insane! It’s one thing to save Rachel, but why did you let her stay in the house for five years? You made Jessie live under the same roof as the murderer of her parents, day and night. Did you ever think about how cruel that is to her? If she ever finds out, you're finished!"

Martin's expression turned cold in an instant and he slammed the table as he stood up.

"I told you, Rachel is not the murderer! She was just a hostage used by the real killer. What’s wrong with her being at the crime scene? The case is closed. Don’t bring it up again. I’ll do anything as long as Rachel is happy. As for Jessie... she’ll never find out. With me around, Rachel will always be safe."

His colleague’s face was filled with disappointment and anger. "You’ve completely lost your mind! You’re the most talented forensic expert we have and you solved countless cases at such a young age. How can you fall for Rachel’s lies? A hostage? What kind of hostage wears gold and jewels under the killer’s watch? You’ve let love blind you to the truth. You’ve even forgotten who you are! You fall in love with a murderer and you’re bound to face a bitter end!"

Fury surged in Martin’s eyes. He slammed his hand down and flipped the table.

"Enough! I said Rachel isn’t the killer! I don’t need you lecturing me on how to perform an autopsy! Don’t bring this up again. Worst case, if the truth comes out, I’ll go to jail in Rachel’s place."

"You’re hopeless! Do whatever you want. I just hope you won’t regret it."

At that moment, all the blood in my body ran cold.

Footsteps approached quickly and I fled in a panic back to my room, covering my mouth with all my strength just to stop myself from sobbing out loud.

Five years ago, my parents were sent abroad on a mission and tragically died in an accident.

Mark claimed he was afraid the shock would be too much for me to handle, so he refused to let me see them one last time.

Everyone said my parents had betrayed the organization and were killed by the culprit to silence them.

The online abuse crushed me, driving me to the brink of a mental breakdown.

At one point, I even wanted to prove their innocence with my own death.

The moment I stepped onto the rooftop, ready to jump— it was Martin who saved me.

He held me tightly in his arms, shielding me from the world.

He said he was a forensic expert, someone who could prove my parents’ innocence.

I believed and saw him as my only salvation in a world full of darkness.

Even after five years passed with no new leads in the case, I still believed he was doing his best.

I even felt sorry for how much he had sacrificed.

But in the end, it was all a lie.

The love was fake. The affection was fake.

Only the pain and lies were real.

As tears brimmed in my eyes, Martin appeared before me, his eyes instantly reddening with worry.

"Why are you squatting on the ground? Are you feeling unwell? Let me take you to the hospital."

I stopped his hand as he tried to help me up, staggered to my feet and barely managed to steady myself.

"Martin, is there still no lead in my parents’ case?"

He froze for two seconds, then replied without hesitation, "I’m sorry. I’ve been pursuing it this whole time, but… there’s still no new lead. Don’t worry, I won’t give up. I promised you an answer. You just need to wait for me."

He added, "Look at you, you’ve grown so thin from all this stress. Stop thinking about these things, okay? It hurts me to see you like this."

He pulled me into his arms, gently patting my back over and over, trying to comfort me.

But I didn’t miss the flicker of panic that flashed through his eyes. In that moment, the last bit of hope inside me completely shattered.

I couldn’t help but curl my lips into a bitter smile. ‘Martin… you’ve lied to me so cruelly these past five years.’

Just like always, I brought him a glass of warm milk to help him sleep. But this time, I had added sleeping pills to it.

Martin didn’t suspect a thing. He drank it all in one gulp.

Soon, he fell into a deep sleep.

I turned around and walked out, heading straight for the door he never allowed me to enter; his study.

The next second, I froze in place.

The walls of the study were covered with autopsy photos.

In the center were the bodies of my parents.

Their eyes were wide open, blood tears spilling from their hollow eyes.

They died unwillingly, unable to rest in peace.

They had fallen from the 28th floor and their bodies were beyond recognition.

But even so, I could still make out the fatal wounds on their chests. It was the clear mark of a dagger piercing through their hearts.

The killer’s strike had been swift, precise and ruthless. No ordinary hostage could have done that.

The flaws in the autopsy were marked by Martin, each one highlighted in red pen, line by line.

The case files were pinned to the wall, ten full pages, all marked with Rachel’s name. Her identity, her presence at the crime scene, the lone fingerprint on the dagger—everything pointed to her. The evidence was laid out plainly, undeniable.

But on the paper, Martin had neatly written two bold characters: "Cold Case."

How laughable.

I took photos of all the evidence on the wall, too afraid to look any longer.

I turned and walked toward the direction of the safe.

I had seen Rachel’s hostage information five years ago. At the time, I had already grown suspicious, so I had written down her details.

After inputting her birthday, the safe door immediately unlocked.

What greeted my eyes was an album dedicated to Rachel. As I flipped through the pages, I finally understood. Rachel had known Martin and Mark for over ten years.

Thousands of photos documented their happy past.

The three of them were always together, with Rachel always protected between the two brothers. Even her wedding photos were carefully kept in the album.

But in those photos, there were three people.

I gave a self-deprecating smile and didn’t continue looking. I took out my phone and bought a flight ticket for three days later, to leave the country.

I also applied to cancel all my domestic identification documents.

This place, filled with lies and betrayal, no longer had a reason for me to stay.

I didn’t want to stay there for even a minute longer.

I hadn’t slept all night. Memories kept flashing through my mind.

As dawn broke, Martin woke up as usual, preparing breakfast for me.

His tone was a little puzzled. “Last night, I didn’t sleep well. I feel weak all over this morning, not sure why.”

I ate my sandwich and simply smiled at his words. “Maybe you’re just too tired from the case. Martin, about my parents’ case… maybe we should just let it go. It’s been five years already. I don’t want you to keep exhausting yourself. Maybe it’s time to give up.”

I saw the flicker of surprise in his eyes and he visibly relaxed.

But he still forced a comforting expression, trying to act like he cared. “Jessy, don’t worry. I will keep my promise and finish what I’ve started. I won’t get tired of doing things for you. Thank you for understanding, honey.”

Just as he was about to kiss me, a wave of nausea hit me.

I rushed to the bathroom, vomiting uncontrollably.

As if sensing something, Martin hurried after me, his eyes filled with excitement. “Jessy, are… you pregnant?”

I froze for a moment.

Martin was overjoyed, lifting me up and spinning around in place. “Great, great! I’m going to be a father! We’re going to have our own child!”

“If my parents knew about this, they’d be so happy. It’s been a while since we’ve visited them. How about we go home in the next couple of days and share this good news with them? We should also let them know. I’ll buy some gifts and come pick you up.”

Before I could say anything, he was already on his phone, selecting maternity and baby products to order.

I keenly noticed that there were quite a few similar items in the cart. They were all placed at the bottom, looking like they’d been prepared for quite a while.

With me expecting, it seemed like Martin had naturally gone ahead and placed the order.

But he had bought everything in pairs.

After paying, he finally remembered that I was still standing beside him.

His expression darkened slightly. After a long pause, he reluctantly spoke, "Going back home, we’re bound to run into Rachel. It wouldn’t be right to go empty-handed. How about I buy a small gift in your name to give her? Sweetheart, it’s been five years. Rachel is also a victim. Please don’t blame her for taking Mark away. We’re so happy now and it’s time to let go of the past..."

I splashed some cold water on my face and responded casually.

"Okay, you’re right. Rachel was just a hostage. Five years have passed without any new leads, which is enough to prove her innocence. Let’s do it your way and I’ll apologize to her."

For the past five years, I’d been tormented by the cause of my parents’ death. I could never bring myself to be kind to Rachel during the family dinners. For that reason, Martin often argued with his family. He even bought a new house outside to protect me. I once thought this was his way of showing love for me. Now, I understood that it was just to avoid embarrassing his beloved Rachel.

He would stop at nothing to protect her.

This five-year-long deception needed to come to an end.

The moment he left, I followed suit. I went straight to the law firm to print out a divorce agreement. While there, I also inquired about the case from five years ago.

The lawyer said that the only evidence I had were photos and it would be almost impossible to reopen the case. Plus, with the public opinion from back then, no one would believe the daughter of a traitor.

I walked down the street, lost in thought. When I came to my senses, I realized I was already standing in front of Martin’s workplace.

As I entered, his colleagues excitedly gathered together, gossiping.

"Was that just now Martin's wife—the guy from the forensics department? She’s so beautiful, though she looks a bit familiar... Oh, wasn’t she the hostage in that international case five years ago?”