Thanks to the timely rescue, I survived—but not without consequence.

The smoke had filled my lungs, and I slipped into unconsciousness.

Out of guilt, Nathan sent me to the hospital and stayed at my bedside all night.

He even had the doctor prepare a herbal decoction to help my recovery.

“Drink some of this,” he said softly, gently blowing on the bowl to cool it. “It’ll soothe your throat.”

He brought it to my lips with practiced care.

I stared into the dark, bitter liquid and spoke hoarsely, my voice laced with irony.

“Nathan… you know I hate medicine the most.”

I hadn’t forgotten.

After my miscarriage, I drank countless bowls of this same bitterness, visiting specialists, enduring treatments—hoping to repair my body so we could have another child.

You hated the smell of those herbs.

Said it clung to everything.

You preferred the scent of Madeline’s apartment—light, floral, like the perfume she wore.

The contrast had cut me open then, and the memory still bled now.

I lifted my gaze, searching his face, trying to see if any remorse lived behind those eyes.

His expression tensed. He looked away, then quickly set down the bowl.

“…Drink it if you want. I have something to do.”

And he left.

Moments later, Madeline entered, wearing her usual victorious smile.

“This little test went better than I expected,” she purred. “Seven years, and that’s all it took for Nathan to walk away from you.”

We had already agreed to meet that night for the exchange.

Under the silver moon, at the cliff by the sea, I arrived first.

She stood waiting, the sea breeze teasing her hair, her silhouette like a ghost in the fog.

“I brought it,” she said, holding up a small wooden box. “Where’s the divorce agreement?”

I took the signed papers from my bag—mine and Nathan’s signatures clear on the page—and handed them to her.

Her eyes scanned every word, her expression lit with triumph.

“You actually got him to sign? You really are full of surprises,” she smirked. “Don’t worry—I won’t tell him.”

“I want the dagger,” I said coldly, ignoring her smugness and reaching out.

But instead of handing it over, she clutched the box tighter and took a few quick steps toward the cliff’s edge.

Her voice turned airy, distant.

“Eva… do you know something?”

She looked at me with strange clarity, almost manic.

“I regret it.”

Then—with no warning—she raised her arm and hurled the box into the air with all her strength.

“NO!”

I lunged forward, eyes wide with horror, heart pounding.

The wooden box spun once before vanishing into the black waves below.

Gone.

The last thread of hope for my father—snuffed out by the sea.

My world tilted.

Blinded by rage, I screamed and ran toward her, fueled by anguish and fury.

“Madeline! I’ll kill you!”

But before I could reach her, a force crashed into me from the side.

I hit the ground hard—my body screaming in pain, the impact jarring every bone.

Nathan.

He’d appeared from the shadows and tackled me with full force.

I lay gasping on the cold earth, unable to move, as he ran to shield Madeline.

She clung to him like a terrified dove, trembling in his arms.

“Eva!” he roared, eyes blazing with fury. “You lunatic! Madeline said you were dangerous—and she was right!”

His voice turned cold, final.

“I was going to testify for your father. But after what you just did? Forget it. I won’t be attending the trial. You made your bed—now lie in it.”

He wrapped his arms around Madeline and led her away.

He didn’t even look back.

“Nathan! No!” I screamed, dragging myself across the ground.

But my broken leg gave out again, and I collapsed.

I clawed at the earth, sobbing, helpless.

Despair crashed over me like the waves below the cliff—cold, relentless, drowning me.

Then, my phone vibrated violently in my pocket.

With shaking fingers, I answered.

“Ms. Eva?!” It was Lawyer Carter. His voice was tight with urgency. “Where are you?! The court just moved your father’s final verdict—it's scheduled for tomorrow morning at nine! We’re out of time! Do you have the evidence?!”

The phone slipped from my hands and landed on the dirt.

Tears blurred my vision.

Gone. Everything… was gone.

There was no dagger. No testimony. No time.

And no one left who would save him.

My father's face floated into my mind—tired, worn, but always smiling.

“Eva… Don’t worry about me. Live well.”

But how could I?

How could I live, knowing he would die for a crime he didn’t commit?

There was no hope left.

A black SUV screeched to a halt in front of me.

The door flew open, and a tall man in black jumped out. His voice cut through the fog of despair.

“Eva!”

It was Lucas Grant.

He rushed to my side and helped me up, his eyes full of worry and urgency.

Lucas—once a poor student my father had sponsored—was now one of the most respected private detectives in the industry. I had told him in advance about my plan with Madeline, hoping for a sliver of backup in case things went wrong.

Only when I heard his voice did I begin to feel human again.

I grabbed his sleeve, my body shaking as sobs broke free from my chest.

“Lucas… it’s over… it’s all over. She threw it away—the dagger—into the sea!”

His eyes widened in disbelief.

“She threw it?!”

His voice trembled with fury. He had never liked Nathan—called him an ingrate, a traitor—but out of respect for me, he had always kept silent. Now, his restraint cracked.

I was crying so hard I could barely breathe. My vision swam, and I gagged from the force of my sobs.

Lucas' face was drawn with concern, sweat forming at his brow. Suddenly, he stiffened—then turned and sprinted toward the cliff’s edge.

A moment later, he whirled around, eyes lit with fierce determination.

“Eva, there’s still hope!” he said. “I’ve been to this coast before. The water below is shallow and rocky. If it didn’t drift far, we can find it!”

His words pierced the fog of despair clouding my mind. I looked at him, my eyes still red, but now burning with a flicker of hope.

He grabbed my hand, holding it tight. “There’s still time! Let’s go—we’ll search together. I know a safe path down.”

I nodded with everything I had left in me. “Okay!”

Lucas called his team. Soon, professionals with equipment arrived, setting up detectors and gear along the cliffside. Within minutes, they had calculated the probable landing point of the box.

My heart pounded. I rushed toward the shoreline, ready to jump in—but Lucas stopped me.

“Eva, your leg—don’t forget, it’s still not healed. You can’t risk it. I’ll go down. I promise, I’ll bring it back.”

It was only then I realized how numb my leg had gone—I hadn’t even noticed how much I was leaning on him the whole way down.

So I stood on the shore, gripping my arms tightly as I watched them descend into the water.

Each minute felt like an hour. The sea tossed them like toys, but they didn’t stop searching.

I clasped my hands and pressed them to my chest, silently begging—Please, please…

Finally, just as dawn broke and the horizon began to glow, Lucas emerged from the waves, soaked but smiling.

“Eva! I found it!”

He lifted his right arm, and there it was—the wooden box, dripping but intact, held high in the golden morning light.

Tears spilled freely down my cheeks.

Hope was not lost.

We had no time to spare.

We rushed back to the car, heading straight for the courthouse.

The trial was at nine. At best, we could make it by eight.

But as we neared the city center, the car suddenly stopped.

“What’s going on?” I asked, heart racing.

Lucas jumped out to check.

When he returned, his expression was grim.

“All major roads ahead are under temporary traffic control. Apparently… Blake Corporation reserved the area for some big celebration.”

What?

I opened my phone—and almost smashed it in rage.

Madeline’s social media was flooded with photos: she and Nathan kissing against a sunrise backdrop. In the background, I recognized the very area that was now blocking our path.

“Today, Nathan took me to watch the most beautiful sunrise. He even reserved the whole area to celebrate the 1,825th day since we met. He said he had a big surprise waiting! Stay tuned, everyone~”

I nearly screamed.

Nathan. Madeline.

They had blocked the only road to the courthouse—for their anniversary.

Furious, I called him.

He answered lazily, like he had just woken up.

“Hello?”

“Nathan!” I yelled, trembling. “Today is my father’s final verdict! Why did you block the road?!”

There was a pause. Then he scoffed.

“What are you talking about? The verdict isn’t for another three days. Don’t try to guilt-trip me.”

“You knew it was rescheduled!”

“I don’t know anything about that. Besides, Madeline was scared yesterday because of you. I had to cheer her up.”

His tone turned cold.

“Apologize to her. Right now. Or don’t even think about me testifying to reduce your father’s sentence.”

His words hit me like a hammer to the chest.

Rage surged through me, and I felt a sudden, crushing tightness as if my heart had clenched into a fist.

“Nathan!” I screamed into the phone. “I don’t have time to fight with you! Get out of the way—I need to see my father!”

But Nathan merely sighed, his tone filled with disdain.

“It seems you still don’t understand your mistake. Calm down. Think it over and apologize properly.”

Click.

He hung up.

I dialed again. And again.

But each time, his phone went straight to voicemail. He had shut me out completely.

Lucas, who had been checking his GPS beside me, suddenly shouted, “There’s a shortcut! I know another way—hold on!”

He spun the wheel sharply, taking a turn into a narrow alleyway.

I clutched my phone with white knuckles, every second ticking by like a countdown to disaster. My chest heaved, lungs tight with panic. We had less than half an hour.

At 8:30 sharp, we finally arrived. The car screeched to a halt just a few hundred meters from the back entrance of the courthouse—too narrow for the vehicle to pass through.

Lucas didn’t hesitate. “Get out and run! Now!”

I grabbed my crutches, flung the car door open, and stumbled forward.

My leg throbbed painfully with every step. But I didn’t stop.

I couldn’t.

I had to make it.

At last, I saw him—Lawyer Carter—standing at the courthouse entrance. His figure was tense, unmoving.

“Evidence!” I shouted hoarsely as I ran toward him. “Lawyer Carter! This is the evidence! Give it to the judge now!”

I shoved the wooden box into his hands, breathless, eyes wild with urgency.

But then... something felt off.

He didn’t move.

His hands didn’t even rise to catch the box.

It slipped through his fingers and hit the ground with a dull thud.

“What are you doing?!” I snapped, panicked, grabbing it off the ground. “This is everything we’ve worked for!”

Lawyer Carter's face was pale, his eyes filled with sorrow.

“Ms. Eva...” he said quietly. “There’s been news from the prison. Your father…”

My heart stopped.

He hesitated, then said it.

“…he committed suicide this morning. He hit his head against the wall.”

Everything around me slowed.

I stared at him, the world ringing in my ears.

“What… what did you say?” I whispered.

“No,” I shook my head. “My father raised me alone. He’s faced worse. He would never… He wouldn’t give up now! You’re lying!”

I turned to run inside. “I want to see him! Let me see him!”

But Lawyer Carter blocked my path. “Please… accept my condolences.”

His hands trembled as he pulled out his phone. “This is from the prison’s surveillance this morning.”

He played the footage.

On the screen, I saw my father adjusting his prison uniform, smoothing the collar.

He turned to face the camera and opened his mouth. There was no sound, but I could read the words clearly.

“Daughter… I don’t want to be your burden. From here on, walk your road without me.”

Tears blurred the image. My legs gave out.

I fell to my knees, clutching the phone to my chest.

“No…”

I replayed the footage over and over, forcing myself to watch the moment he stepped back... and slammed his head into the wall.

Again. And again.

Until everything went black.

---

When I woke up, the hospital room was quiet.

Lucas sat beside me, eyes swollen, face drawn with grief. He had clearly been crying.

I didn’t say anything for a long time.

Then, calmly, I spoke the first words since regaining consciousness.

“I want to leave, Lucas. I don’t want to stay in this city anymore.”

He nodded immediately. “I’ll go wherever you go, Eva.”

His unwavering voice gave me strength.

Without another word, I began packing.

When I collected my father’s ashes, my heart was numb. I didn’t cry anymore. There was nothing left to grieve.

At the airport, I canceled my phone service. Then, without hesitation, I dropped my phone into a trash bin.

From this moment on, Nathan and I were over.

Forever.

---

That same morning, Nathan woke up beside Madeline, tangled in bedsheets and perfumed comfort.

His phone buzzed.

He picked it up lazily and glanced at the calendar notification.

Today: Mr. Shaw’s final court hearing.

He rubbed his forehead and sighed.

Although he had ignored Eva these past two days, he hadn’t meant anything serious by it. He assumed she’d cool off, and he’d swoop in like always—just in time to play the hero.

So, casually, he sent a message:

“Are you calm now? I’ll come pick you up. Don’t worry, everything is arranged. Your father’s sentence will definitely be reduced.”

Message failed to send.

Frowning, he tried again.

No response.

He called. The line didn’t even ring.

A strange unease began to creep in.

He got out of bed despite Madeline’s sleepy protests and rushed to Eva’s old apartment—their former home, their wedding house.

He hadn’t stepped foot here in a long time.

“Eva!” he called, pushing the door open. “What the hell are you doing? Are you still mad at me? I already told you I’d take care of everything!”

He stepped inside—and froze.

The place was empty. Quiet. Dust floated in the sunlight like ash.

No sign of life.

His chest tightened.

Maybe she went to the courthouse early?

He dialed the lawyer.

“Everything’s ready, right?” Nathan asked, his tone brisk. “Just make sure the judge grants a reduced sentence.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line.

Then the lawyer spoke, voice low and hesitant.

“…Mr. Blake. You haven’t heard?”

Nathan’s brow furrowed. “Heard what?”

Another beat of silence.

“Mr. Shaw… is gone. He took his own life early this morning.”